In archival KYUK video of the 1996 Cama'i Dance Festival, four young and smiley 20-somethings settle on stage. In the pixelated Bethel Regional High School gym, Aassanaaq "Ossie" Kairaiuak, Karina Moeller and brothers Phillip and Qacung Blanchett are clad in qaspeqs. They are the newly-formed group Pamyua.
Today, Qacung Blanchett remembers the moment vividly.
“We started singing Cauyaqa Nauwa, and when we hit a note,” Blanchett paused and sang, remembering the exact tone. “This was something that we weren't expecting ... everybody stood up onto their feet and started clapping and cheering.”
The group was nervous to perform in front of family, breaking traditional style. To them, that applause signaled acceptance.
“It is the most memorable moment I've ever had in 32 years of performing,” Blanchett said. “All of us were just not expecting that.”
He said it was a defining moment for the fledgling group. They had just begun experimenting bridging elements of soul with traditional Yup’ik songs. And they had just started working with vocalist Karina Moeller.
“I was blown away,” Moeller said. “I mean, I think, of course, because I know that traditionally, you don't harmonize the songs. So, of course, there was nervousness about how especially Elders would take it, and they loved it.”
Moeller is originally from Greenland, where drumming was forbidden under colonial rule.
“So we lost our drum dances in the west coast where I am from,” Moller said. “So I was so deeply moved to see this, how strong the drum dancing, how it survived here.”
In the years since Pamyua’s Cama’i debut, the band’s career has unfolded: five full albums, four singles and EPs, and performances across the globe.
Today, the group is renowned for bringing traditional sounds from Western Alaska into the music mainstream. And back home on the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta, Pamyua is a household name.
The group has composed music for TV shows and is featured in the Library of Congress music archive.
And as their musical vision and careers fanned out before them, so have their families. They’re parents and new grandparents now. The band’s 30-year anniversary of its first Cama’i performance felt like a moment to bring everyone together.
“It was important for us to mark this moment with our family, so we brought all our kids that could be here,” Blanchett said. “Not all of our kids could be here, but we brought our family as much as possible.”
Blanchett said the band didn’t really celebrate their 15th anniversary, or recently, their 30th. He said Cama’i recognizing the group’s debut at the celebration of music and Native culture has been a chance to take a beat and look back and say, "Wow, it’s been quite a run."
On stage, the band members yuraqed with their kids beside them. Band member Assanaaq “Ossie” Kairaiuak led a pantomined canoe seal hunting expedition with family on board. The kids helped paddle the boat and attempted to harpoon imaginary seals that always seemed to get away.
Phillip Blanchett remembers documenting his first Cama’i festivals with a camera. He said he was awed and enamored watching the dancers.
“After these decades have gone by and seeing young people who are looking at Cama’i from those eyes, it just brings so much joy and to see that culture continuing in that way,” Blanchett said.
Blanchett said in many ways, he still feels himself a student of yuraq and the Yup’ik language. He said it’s inspiring and encouraging to be back on the Y-K Delta, continuing to learn and be energized by community and tradition.
For other members, it’s a brand new experience. Keyboardist and percussionist Kristoffer Jul Reenberg began working with the group shortly after the 1996 Cama’i. This is his first time at the festival.
“It feels like coming to the origin of the epicenter of where, what we've been doing for all these years,” Jul Reenberg said. “So it's a great honor.”
On the final night of the 2026 festival, Pamyua was the closing act. Thirty years ago, the then-four-member group held the spotlight alone as they introduced their music to the broader Y-K Delta community. But on this night, the stage was full of company, like New York percussionist C.J. Joseph, who joined for a few songs. Singer Martin Paul also joined, addressing the crowd as Pamyua prepared to wind down their set.
“I just want to say Pamyua, when I was a kid like these ones here, I really looked up to this band,” Paul said.
As the group sang, the stage filled behind them with family and audience members of all ages. Their hands shifted between the familiar yuraq gestures to a dance they knew by heart.
