Viewing the photos of a water-submerged Saddledome and Stampede grounds over the last weeks has had to strike a chord in every Calgarian, regardless of their regular sentiments toward cowboys and mini doughnuts. In hearing that come ‘hell or high water’ the show will go on the city was given strength, through a festival some of us are quick to scoff at as being the prominent hick event of each year.

In Kent Monkman’s current instalment at the Glenbow Museum, The Big Four, we are offered another reason to cease slandering the Stampede and to, instead, shout with louder voices accolades for the once-deemed campy event. It appears that since its inception, 101 years ago, the Stampede was inspiring hope for another group of marginalized Albertans.

Following a traveling show that visited the Glenbow in 2010, Monkman was asked by the museum to return with an exclusive work. This prompted a visit back to Calgary in 2012, during which Monkman attended his first Stampede, the centennial.

What struck the artist most was the century-strong Aboriginal presence he found there. Winnipeg-born, and of Cree background, Monkman says he had never been to a rodeo or western event where such a presence was so identifiable and that, had it been, what a difference it would have made to his people.

His inquiries into the 100 year-running event, and more specifically the Native presence within it, led him to an appalling finding.

In order to have these Aboriginal participants in attendance the Stampede organizers - beginning with the founding four, or Big Four as they have become known - needed to seek government allowance. Every Aboriginal individual needed a pass to leave their reserve for even just one day. Aboriginals were essentially living in a permanent state of incarceration.

"I don’t think a lot of people think Native reserves were places where people were imprisoned," Monkman says. "That legacy of incarceration has been part of the native experience over the last 100 years."

"The Stampede liberated these people – even if it was just for a week."

The rodeo and fair gave Aboriginal peoples a place to be visible - a place where their culture could be honoured and skills could be rewarded, though with a lessened prize payout.

And so with a mix of praise for the Stampede and a desire to illustrate the economic disparity between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal participants over the last century – both in Calgary and throughout the entire country – Monkman went to work at creating the exhibit now on view.

He began with four broken down vehicles; four to represent the number of founders that brought the original Stampede to fruition.

"Rez cars were looked down on as pieces of junk but were still important to mobility," Monkman describes. "Even though they were junky, they were still important."

Each car acts as a museum display case; a vessel of representation for the items it holds within, many of which were curated from the Glenbow collection itself.

Monkman calls the piece, ‘a reflection of the Stampede through a First Nations lens’ and names renowned First Nations activist Leonard Peltier as an inspiration.

Politics are never a theme the artist shies away from in his many projects.

"I don’t think about it deliberately; I just think it’s part of being an Aboriginal artist," he says. "A lot of the issues that are important to me have to do with politics and nature."

"If you really start thinking about it, there’s no other way of approaching it."

His work reflects what it means to him to be First Nations.

"A lot of my work comes through my own experience and that’s why I think it has that political edge to it."

Though he began as a painter his preferred media have extended to the platforms of video and installation, as well as to drag performance and satire. In Miss Chief Eagle Testickle, Monkman has created an alter ego that allows him a voice in which to construct ‘a narrative on Aboriginal sexuality’.

"Miss Chief evolved because I wanted to create a character that could live in the 19th century in the two spirit tradition," he explains. "Then, as I developed her, I found that there was a lot more to her than that."

The artist has continued to work with the character in different mediums exploring different themes and says he hasn’t run out of ideas for her yet.

Whether painting or putting on bold performance, Monkman’s works are always colourful and never stale. He can, through a well-crafted, fun piece, speak to serious issues, such as white domination or Biblical texts. One may see a drag queen emerge from an unassuming, unadulterated, ethereal landscape, a pair of beaded, sky-high heels cast in boudoir quarters, or a masculine sculpture of Lot’s wife. Always visually intriguing, always thought provoking, it’s no wonder the artist has broken out internationally, with a strong representation in Berlin.

"Funny and politically incisive, his injection of some Cher-like glamour into the heart of America’s butch psyche is like throwing a Versace wedge into an auto-repair shop," Jessica Lack for the Guardian said of his "Exhibition Preview".

The artist works primarily from his studio in Toronto but travels frequently to Europe and around Canada, with exhibits literally dotting the globe.

He is currently working on several commission pieces, an upcoming exhibit in Denver, a performance piece, as well as a project slated to open in Montreal in the new year.

Asked if The Big Four will have opportunity to travel, Monkman was uncertain but says he would love if it could be so. Logistics will be a complication, as several of the pieces featured in the installation belong to the Glenbow.

"There’s a possibility it could be re-imagined in different versions somewhere else," he says. "We’ll see."