Puvirnituq, Quebec, Nunavuk
Deep in the Canadian Arctic, far beyond the reach of highways, lies Puvirnituq — a small Inuit community in Nunavik on the Povungnituk River, just before it meets Hudson Bay. With a population of around 1,700 people, this remote northern village is one of the most isolated places in Quebec, Canada.
But what makes Puvirnituq unforgettable is its name. In Inuktitut, Puvirnituq translates to “place where there is a smell of rotten meat.”
This striking name comes from ancient stories passed down through generations. Some believe it refers to a tragedy when a herd of caribou drowned in the river, their bodies later washing ashore and decomposing near the settlement. Others say it recalls a deadly epidemic, when too many people died at once and there were not enough survivors to bury them. Both stories highlight the raw survival struggles of Inuit culture in the far North.
Creating Music in Nunavik
In October, I spent a month in Puvirnituq, completely surrounded by tundra and silence. With no road access and minimal distractions, it felt like being on the edge of the world.
This unique setting became the birthplace of one of my tracks. Composing in the Canadian Arctic was unlike any other creative experience. The vast landscapes, the cold winds, and the quiet resilience of the Inuit community shaped my sound in ways I couldn’t have imagined.
It was here that I truly understood the power of music inspired by nature.
Connecting the Arctic to Japan Through Photography
While working on this project, I chose to pair my music with visuals from a good friend living in Japan. His passion is urban exploration photography (urbex) — capturing abandoned places in Japan, forgotten towns, and decaying buildings overtaken by time.
Strangely enough, his photos mirror the feelings I had in Nunavik travel — isolation, beauty, and the haunting presence of history. Both the abandoned cities of Japan and the frozen tundra of northern Quebec tell silent stories about resilience, memory, and survival.
You can dive into his incredible work here:
Final Thoughts
Puvirnituq may carry a name that shocks at first, but to me, it represents resilience, inspiration, and the beauty of the forgotten. My month in this remote Inuit village not only gave me new music but also connected me to the shared atmosphere of Inuit culture and urbex exploration from the other side of the planet.
Sometimes the harshest, most remote places — whether the tundra of Nunavik or the ruins of Japan — can spark the deepest creativity.