The contemporary notion of technology is commonly of electronics, mechanics, science. Technology nowadays is considered first and foremost to be efficient, digital, infallible. “Tech” is modern not archaic, big not diminutive, masculine not feminine, binary not polyadic, and ultimately, a colonial utility for capital’s production and accumulation.

But various civilisations have various understandings of what constitutes a technology. The ancient Trypillian culture of present-day Western Ukraine, for instance, decorated eggs with wax and dyes in complex symbolic imagery. Similarly, North American Indigenous knowledge keepers wove and carved technological wisdom into embroidery and artifacts given freely down through generations. For these non-Christian traditions, technology is neither synonymous nor equivalent with commodity.

“It’s interesting,” says the Anishinaabe-French multidisciplinary artist Caroline Monnet, “to use technology to create a space where a spirit can exist.”

Monnet gives an artist talk on 26 August 2026 around her most recent film, called Pidikwe, as part of MUTEK Montreal’s discourse forum. Yet, she is a curious choice for a festival that centres on high technology, given that Monnet’s practice is explicitly low-tech — at least in terms of current definitions.

Monnet does not operate in the world of augmented reality or Artificial Intelligence. As a filmmaker, she embraces analogue celluloid. Combinations of synthetic and organic materials characterize her visual art. Nonetheless, Monnet succeeds in transforming those comparatively traditional media into a poetic form of futurity. “Using technology to evoke spirits is different from what we might expect,” she tells me.

At only 41, Caroline Monnet has attained admirable accolades in both the cinematic and contemporary art scenes. She has been nominated twice at the Canadian Screen Awards; she is a recipient of the prestigious Prix Pierre-Ayot; in 2023, she was named Compagne des arts et des lettres du Québec; and she is a finalist in this year’s Sobey’s Arts Award, for which she was also shortlisted in 2020.

Her works have been exhibited at the Musée d’art contemporain and the National Gallery of Canada, and she was the subject of a solo show entitled Ninga Mìnèh, meaning “promise” in Anishinaabemowin, at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts in 2021. The title was apt, given Monnet’s prodigious potential and her wide array of achievements.

“Every medium is a way to grow my practice as an artist and as a person. I like to branch out into areas I haven’t explored before. But I think the themes and curiosity and the messages I want to convey remain the same,” Monnet explains. “It’s the same artist behind all the artworks.”

Through assorted media, Monnet’s work is always rooted in bringing awareness and education around Indigenous lived realities. But it is not solely of interest or importance to First Nations, Inuit, or Métis audiences. “I’m hoping to touch people of all backgrounds on a more universal level,” says Monnet. “We all share a common space, which is the earth. We all have a common responsibility for generations to come. These are universal concepts that I’m trying to bring into the work. It’s about creating an emotional space for people to live their own experience.”

Hailing originally from the Outaouais region of Quebec, Monnet is the daughter of a French father and an Anishinaabe mother. She came of age in a small village in Brittany where she first had an emotional encounter with cinema.

“When I was 12 years old, I saw Kanehsatake: 270 Years of Resistance by Alanis Obomsawin,” Monnet recalls, “and that was kind of when it clicked in my mind. Alanis was there to present the film. I saw Indigenous people for the first time onscreen. And I also realized the power of media for education and empowerment.”

She initially resolved to pursue journalism, “to pick up a camera and tell stories,” she says, working for a short time at Radio-Canada and other T.V. production companies. But Monnet realized that she was drawn more to experimental filmmaking, creating video installations, and later, visual arts.

“One experience leads to another experience. It’s a snowball effect,” Monnet observes, “it’s not planned. I didn’t have a grandiose idea of what I wanted to do in life. It happened through exploration and experimentation — and opportunities. You’ve got to trust the process.”

Every artist has their own unique path, and Monnet’s quickly exposed an exploration of habitat, territory, and the impact that we as human beings have upon our environment. She frequently incorporates construction materials into her works to demonstrate how the economic wealth of western societies is made through the exploitation of natural resources.

“There are habitats in the land that we occupy, the homes that we live in,” says Monnet. “But also, there are habitats that are around us that we don’t really see, or that we’ve lost our capacities to see and have gratitude for.”

These habitats will be the subject of a new exhibition at Galerie Blouin | Division, opening 10 September. “It’s a big show,” she tells me. “I’ve been working very hard on that show all summer.”

Monnet currently employs eight interns in her studio who work as we speak to complete the exhibition on schedule. “That’s not something to take for granted,” she says. “As an artist, to be able to have a studio, to have a team working with me, these are real things that make a huge difference.” And although Montreal has endured jumps in cost of living and the evaporation of affordable ateliers, Monnet praises Mooniyang as her beloved home base.

“It’s big enough to have the qualities of a major city, but also small enough to feel like a village. I wouldn’t be able to live in a city like New York,” she admits. “Even though it’s very exhilarating, and there is access to so much culture there, on a daily basis, you need to sustain as an artist. You need to focus, and sleep, and rest. You have to be in a place where what is surrounding the practice is healthy and welcoming. I think Montreal is a pretty special place.”

Though Monnet sees an alarming trend emerging everywhere with the advent of A.I. One of technology’s most revealing features is that it always reflects the culture from which it emerged. And there is no denying that Artificial Intelligence is a product of an accelerationist and hyper-capitalist ethos.

Monnet frets for future generations. “To think that maybe A.I. is going to be the end of us because we’ll have no drinking water in a couple of years, for me, that’s the really scary part,” she says. “There’s a real lack of responsibility and it frustrates me. And from a creative standpoint, also. It will never be able to replace us, really. But it’s just taking away from the creativity of artists. I think it’s used in a very bad way. It’s kind of worrisome that people are not thinking for themselves as much anymore. Art is about fighting ignorance.”

Still, of all the arcane technologies that demand our attention and innovation today, spirituality may be the most urgent. “I do believe that I’m able to bring spirituality and spirit into the work,” Monnet claims.

“I think that the spirit is coming from human interaction and energy. In the studio I always tell my assistants that I want good thoughts to travel through their hands — from mind to hands. That’s something that I value very much for myself when I’m weaving or working on something with my hands. We have such a responsibility when we put artwork into the world. For people to see them and live with them in their homes, it has to be filled with good intentions.”

Monnet pauses momentarily.

“Maybe,” she adds, “machines don’t have the intention part.”◼︎

Caroline Monnet speaks at MUTEK Forum on 26 August 2026. Her forthcoming solo exhibition runs 10 September – 6 November at Galerie Blouin | Division, 2020 Rue William.

_{Cover image: Caroline Monnet photographed by Eva Maude.}