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UNSANCTIONED: Showcasing Indigenous resilience through art

Toronto Indigenous Harm Reduction blends activism and creativity to raise awareness for ongoing injustices

An Indigenous woman wearing a baseball cap, skull earrings and a beige t-shirt stands before Indigenous artworks under a pink neon sign reading “It’s a great day to be Indigenous.”
(Tristan Forde/CanCulture Magazine)
Brianna Olson-Pitawanakwat, a founding member of Toronto Indigenous Harm Reduction.

By Sorousheh Salman

Toronto Indigenous Harm Reduction (TIHR), a non-profit organization created by Indigenous and First Nations activists, hosted their art exhibition, “UNSANCTIONED,” during Nuit Blanche this year on Oct. 4.

“Tonight is a mixture of everything. It’s the gallery space being open to the public,” said Brianna Olson-Pitawanakwat, a founding member of TIHR. 

The counter-event showcased art pieces from the organization’s permanent collection and the local community at the Native Arts Society. 

“Our permanent collection has art from people who have done art through our program, people who we’ve met along the way and it’s all [through] a lens of harm reduction, land defence and social justice,” said Olson-Pitawanakwat. 

“UNSANCTIONED” was a night of unapologetically platforming resistance. According to Olson-Pitawanakwat, the exhibition aims to shed light on the ongoing attacks on harm reduction in the city through a series of bills. 

Some of these bills include: the closure of safe consumption sites under Bill 223, “Safer Streets, Stronger Communities Act” and the criminalization of people living in encampments or using substances under Bill 6, “Safer Municipalities Act.” There is also an attack on Indigenous people’s sovereignty resulting from Bill 5, “Protect Ontario by Unleashing our Economy Act,” that enables Ontario’s municipalities to expand their infrastructure without having Indigenous voices involved.

The exhibition’s main highlight was their photo collection, covering their Indigenous-led Winter Night Outreach program. According to the collection’s photojournalist, Joshua Best, the exhibition is a display of how TIHR engages with unhoused people in Toronto every winter.

Black serif text on a white wall next to framed photographs reads a short poem describing a brutally cold night in the city for unhoused people.
(Tristan Forde/CanCulture Magazine)

“During the brutally cold nights, [TIHR] ensures they have what they need to get through the night,” he said.

“We call it Indigenous-led Winter Night Outreach, because we are Indigenous people who are doing this work in our community and nobody’s asked us to do it. We’re doing it because we see a need and it’s important,” said Olson-Pitawanakwat.

A framed image of a man in a blanket, covered in snow in front of the CF Eaton Centre.
(Tristan Forde/CanCulture Magazine)

Best spoke about a particular image, where a man succumbed to the snow. He said it captures the essence of the intense environment unhoused people are dealing with. 

“It’s a guy. You wouldn’t even know it was a human being. His blankets and everything is covered in snow and he’s right behind the Toronto Eaton Centre. The entire scene is just white and you could just see the outline of a blanket and you wouldn’t think that was a human being — but that’s a human being. And it’s the type of person that you do outreach for,” he said. 

According to the City of Toronto, approximately 86 per cent of people were turned away or dismissed as “unmatched” for shelters due to a lack of available beds as of September 2025.

Olson-Pitawanakwat emphasized the vast majority of unhoused people are senior citizens. “I’ve seen awful situations for a really long time, but I think one of the things that struck me is that you see the same people every year and they are all seniors,” she explained.

During the winter, Best recalled seeing people in -30 °C weather on the streets with no shoes on. 

“That’s the big thing about Toronto Indigenous Harm Reduction. There is no judgment. You ask people what they need and if they can facilitate that, they give that to them with no judgment.” 

For Best, the exhibit was not so much about the photography as it was about the intention to support unhoused individuals. 

“The reality of living on the street, especially during Toronto’s winters, shows the level of direct compassion that people have and the way others receive it. Sometimes we walk up and the person will say, ‘Thank God you guys are here,’” he explains. 

When offered coats and jackets, Best saw instantaneous relief on people’s faces, explaining the immediacy the cold demands. He said many fear not making it through the night.

Displayed on a gallery wall is a large painting of a cop car engulfed in flames with dollar bills flying out of it and “Land Back” graffiti’d at the front of it. Smaller artworks are framed nearby.
(Tristan Forde/CanCulture Magazine)
Mixed media piece “Land Back” by Kizmet.

Kizmet, artist of the mixed media piece “Land Back” revealed the portrait is a critique of Canadian police institutions. It addresses how the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) often act as enforcers for corporate interests, aiding in the exploitation of resources, including Indigenous land, oil and minerals. 

“If you can’t go out and burn a police car in real life, you can do it through art,” he said.

Kizmet shared how “Land Back’s” usage of different media came to be. “There was a time many years ago when I put down every single other kind of painting utensil. I just tried to do spray painting and master spray painting and I did that for about 10 years.”

“Land Back” is part of his collection with 20 other paintings, which are not limited to just the spray painting medium. 

Kizmet’s art is a culmination of intentional meanings and his journey in reconnecting with his Peruvian-Indigenous heritage. Growing up disconnected from his roots, witnessing and experiencing covert anti-Indigenous racism, he explained he was only able to understand some of those childhood experiences later in life. 

“I started hanging out with other Natives… a lot of things started clicking for me. It kind of gave me the want to go reconnect with my roots and spend time with my family and learn from them,” said Kizmet. 

His fearlessness in tackling themes of resistance in his art stems from his beginnings with graffiti in his teenage years.

“If you painted over somebody, they might try and come and stab you,” he said. 

This early exposure to extreme rejection shaped his resilience, making threats and backlash against his art manageable.

“If you can’t go out and burn a police car in real life, you can do it through art.”

According to Kizmet, some art institutions, venues and people will not touch his artwork, regardless of whether or not they are opposed to its creation. “They’re just afraid of ‘controversy’ or what they see as a ‘controversial thing,’ which is Native people being a Native.”

He said Indigenous art can be held to an unfair standard and matched with reductive stereotypes. 

“Real Native art is art made by Indigenous people. It doesn’t matter what you make,” said Olson-Pitawanakwat. “UNSANCTIONED” challenges these stereotypes against Indigenous people by opening its platform to a range of artistic mediums.

“We have a lot to share and we have a lot to lead and we have a lot to do in our community and we just want to share that with people,” said Olson-Pitawanakwat.

More of “UNSANCTIONED” by Tristan Forde:

  • Two traditional red regalias are displayed on a clear screen by hangers. A sign that reads "harm reduction saves Indigenous lives on Indigenous land" is plastered on the screen, while dream catchers and bunches of dried sage hang from the structure.
  • A gallery room filled with people observing various portraits and photo collections on walls. One person in the room wears a mask and some people are chatting with one another.
  • On a gallery wall is two framed photos of Indigenous outreach workers assisting unhoused folks on snowy streets. Next to it, black serif text on the wall reads "As Indigenous people of this territory, we saw a need that existed in our community and are doing our best to meet that need."
  • A framed photo on a gallery wall of three people painting on canvases while they're in front of the exterior of a concrete building. One of them sits on a window ledge, another sits on a concrete floor and another one kneels in grass.
  • Various Indigenous art prints are for sale on a white table. The prints consist of a pregnant person in the cycle of water, a circular tapestry, eagles and a tipi
  • A black and orange print with feathers, hands, a heart and geometric design. The text on it says "Every child matters" and "We believe you."
  • A closeup of a painting containing red handprints. On a black portion of the painting, faint text reads "In these lands we are not experiencing the primitive infancy of capitalism but its vicious senility."
  • An assortment of colourful Indigenous paintings, art and prints arranged to make a crowded gallery wall display.
  • A large painted banner of red crosses, poppies and orange feathers that says "harm reduction saves lives" is posted on a floor-to-ceiling storefront window.
  • A crowded room full of people looking at framed artworks and displays on walls. Many of them are wearing keffiyehs and have their backs turned to the camera.
  • The poster for the event "Unsanctioned" on a wooden tabletop with four button pins arranged on its corners. The pins contain messages that say "every child matters," "I carry naloxone," and "Native Arts Society."
  • Two Indigenous people stand side-by-side, posing for a photo in front of a large painting of a cop car in flames. One person is wearing all-black and a top hat with a keffiyeh around the neck. The other person is wearing a baseball cap, beige t-shirt and olive green skirt.
  • A variety of stickers and patches conveying symbols and themes of Indigeniety, queerness and Palestinian solidarity.
  • A large cloth banner hanging on a rack. Painted on it in black is arabic text, silhouettes of doves, a keffiyeh and a message that reads "Long Live Palestine."
  • An artwork of a graffiti'd and vandalized cybertruck engulfed in flames, with a jerry can on the ground next to it.
  • On a wooden table is a small lined notebook containing messages written in red and black Sharpie on both pages. The message on the first page reads "Thank you so much! Free Palestine! Solidarity forever, from Turtle Island to Palestine!" The message on the second page reads "Yer love and commitment to community is admirable! Land back! Liberation for all!"