MAGNETIC NORTH – EXHIBITION DIGITORIAL

Intro

Magnetic North An Exhibition imagining Canada in painting 1910–1940 UNTIL 29 AUGUST 2021

Lawren Harris, Mount Lefroy, 1930

Magnificent outdoor adventures, remote cabins in the woods and the magic of the Northern Lights against white glaciers are just a few of the romantic notions globally associated with “Canada”. We suddenly find ourselves longing for an idyllic life as a lone adventurer of the kind we see in films and literature.

These romantic ideas are by no means an invention of our time: In the early 20th century Canadian artists travelled from the cities out into nature. They were on the hunt for a new pictorial language to shape the cultural identity for a still burgeoning nation, which had to gain self-governance in 1867 with the confederation of four provinces. In visual terms, these paintings and sketches embody the dream of an untouched world. They depict the idyll of an awesome landscape and at the time hovered beyond the reality of modern city life and the expanding industrial utilization of nature. Not least, this landscape was home to the Indigenous population.

Lawren Harris, Lake and Mountains, 1928

Moder­nism as na­tional art: the Group of Seven

In May 1920, the artists and friends Lawren Harris, J.E.H. MacDonald, A.Y. Jackson, Frank Johnston, Arthur Lismer, Franklin Carmichael and A.J. Casson officially founded the “Group of Seven” association. They had already shared several excursions for some years – setting out to explore the countryside to the north of Ontario, which they had captured in atmospheric paintings. The Group of Seven, along with other artists from their circles such as Emily Carr, Tom Thomson and Mary E. Wrinch, shared not only a preference for landscape painting but also the goal of establishing a uniquely Canadian tradition in painting. Unlike the European avant-garde, they thus wanted to make an original contribution to Modernism, which was developing internationally. Alongside their artistic ideas, they shared the desire to express a sense of belonging to the still far from independent nation of Canada and ideally to invoke it in the observer. Art was to be a tool for dissemination, formation and consolidation.

"The thought of today cannot be expressed by the language of yesterday."

Group of Seven, 1922

Against wind and weather

With the goal of capturing the characteristic natural features of the country in an authentic fashion, the Canadian Modernist artists sought to devise a new pictorial vocabulary.

The outline of a tree standing alone appears on the shore of a windswept lake against a somber, cloudy sky, its roots clinging to the granite rocks. This subject was much used in Canadian painting of the 1910s and 1920s and became an important symbol.

The motif of the individual tree draws from a long European tradition, and in Canada it became the epitome of the national spirit: The solitary tree represented the raw, indomitable mentality of the Canadian settlers and stood for strength and tenacity as well as endurance in an inhospitable environment.

“The West Wind” is one of the last large oil on canvas paintings by Tom Thomson. The pine that juts out of the cliff appears to stand firm, grown tall despite adverse conditions, leaning into the wind, refusing to be broken. Not infrequently, Thomson himself was compared to this tree. His premature death – the artist’s body was found in Canoe Lake in 1917 – spawned something of a legend. To his contemporaries, Thomson embodied a new type of artist: bold, self-reliant and deeply connected to the nature of the country. The fact that the nature with which the artist surrounded himself was far from untouched was largely disregarded.

Tom Thomson, The West Wind, Winter 1916/17

The artist Tom Thom­son

Tom Thomson, a passionate nature-lover, dedicated his painting career to the forests of Ontario. From 1913 he was a frequent visitor to Algonquin Park, 300 km north of Toronto. Here, he not only painted but also worked as a fire ranger and a guide. He also introduced his artist friends – Lawren Harris, A. Y. Jackson, Arthur Lismer and J. E. H. MacDonald – to Algonquin Park. Thomson almost always set up his studio in the open air, for which he used a wooden paintbox that served as an easel and palette at the same time. The handy size of the box enabled the artist to transport it on excursions in his backpack or in a canoe.

Tom Thomson at Tea Lake Dam, Algonquin Provincial Park, 1916

CANADIAN FORESTS

CANA­DIAN FO­RESTS

Tom Thomson, Black Spruce and Maple, autumn 1915

The region of Algoma in the northern part of Ontario stretched to the northern bank of Lake Superior and Lake Huron, and was rich in primeval forest and mineral deposits. Its rivers, lakes and forests offered ample inspiration for art.

The works by the Group of Seven clearly demonstrate their enthusiasm for bold colors and simplified forms. On the hunt for new forms of expression in a relationship with the countryside, the artists created a pictorial language that proved to be very influential for the further development of Canada’s Modernist painting tradition. They wanted to capture the beauty, grandeur and picturesque nature of the country and to establish a specifically Canadian school of landscape painting.

At the same time, they placed themselves in the service of the young nation with the aim of strengthening it through the creation of a shared identity. The result was depictions of nature that to many were the very epitome of Canada, yet the search for a visual representation of the country was, at the same time, a process of exclusion. The paintings and sketches by the Group of Seven construct a wilderness that was often no such thing, since the supposedly uninhabited landscape was and remains the homeland of many Indigenous peoples.

"The great purpose of landscape is to make us feel at home in our own country."

A. Y. Jackson
Arthur Lismer, Sunlight in a Wood, 1930

The painting was developed based on a sketch in crayon, which Lismer had produced at McGregor Bay in Ontario. Here, the conifer forest and the diversity of the forest floor become the subject: Ferns and lichen in the foreground of the image form a lively patchwork of colors and patterns. The roots of the fallen tree in the middle of the image provide a habitat for new growth and thus point towards the natural cycle of growth and decay. At the same time, rich color tones and boldly executed brushstrokes imply that this may not be the rendering of a real landscape, but rather an appreciation of color and form.

Lawren Harris, Beaver Pond, 1921

A close-up view of the bank: dead tree trunks standing in the water, and a background of impenetrable woodland. The painting shows Birch Lake in Algoma, which is labelled “Beaver Pond” here. Harris was particularly interested in how beavers, “nature’s architects”, define the landscape with the dams they construct themselves, yet here we see neither people nor animals. The depiction, with its reduced formal idiom, the two-dimensional application of color and intense light, appears timeless and at the same time spiritually charged. For Harris, art was an expression of mental stimulation and the Canadian countryside as its spiritual source.

Tom Thomson, Northern River, 1914–15

The dark, narrow spruce trees with their entwined branches frame the foreground of the picture and reveal the view of a river. The riverbank formations so typical of northern Ontario are made to stand out against the low horizon. With its predominantly peaceful atmosphere, this transition point between land and water conveys the impression of retreat and seclusion. These kinds of marshy areas were often shallow and therefore only accessible with non-motorized, lightweight boats. One can well imagine Thomson paddling his canoe along rivers fringed by forest in order to reach this spot.

Franklin Carmichael, Autumn Hillside, 1920

With lively colors and an overwhelmingly optimistic mood, Carmichael explores the decorative aspects of landscape painting. The structure of the painting is similar to a stage set: The darkened foreground with large rocks and majestic spruce trees contrasts with the frieze of dainty, sun-dappled trees in the background. The painting celebrates the Ontario forest in all its glory. At the same time, there is a notable spiritual presence in this sublime landscape. As with Harris, for Carmichael to the Canadian landscape was a source of spirituality.

A.Y. Jackson, Lake Superior Country, 1924

Here, Jackson focuses on the formations of the terrain in northern Ontario with their basalt ridges formed by prehistoric lava flows. The landscape is strongly stylized and the color palette exaggerated. Arranged rhythmically, the layers of stone are staggered on a slope in purple, pink-violet, vermilion and burnt ochre. Behind the lush vegetation in the foreground, we see a series of young, green and gold American larches, growing where just a few years earlier broad strips of land had been burned. The dark, almost skeleton-like spruces in the background could also indicate the consequences of a fire.

Arthur Lismer, Sunlight in a Wood, 1930

The painting was developed based on a sketch in crayon, which Lismer had produced at McGregor Bay in Ontario. Here, the conifer forest and the diversity of the forest floor become the subject: Ferns and lichen in the foreground of the image form a lively patchwork of colors and patterns. The roots of the fallen tree in the middle of the image provide a habitat for new growth and thus point towards the natural cycle of growth and decay. At the same time, rich color tones and boldly executed brushstrokes imply that this may not be the rendering of a real landscape, but rather an appreciation of color and form.

Lawren Harris, Beaver Pond, 1921

A close-up view of the bank: dead tree trunks standing in the water, and a background of impenetrable woodland. The painting shows Birch Lake in Algoma, which is labelled “Beaver Pond” here. Harris was particularly interested in how beavers, “nature’s architects”, define the landscape with the dams they construct themselves, yet here we see neither people nor animals. The depiction, with its reduced formal idiom, the two-dimensional application of color and intense light, appears timeless and at the same time spiritually charged. For Harris, art was an expression of mental stimulation and the Canadian countryside as its spiritual source.

Tom Thomson, Northern River, 1914–15

The dark, narrow spruce trees with their entwined branches frame the foreground of the picture and reveal the view of a river. The riverbank formations so typical of northern Ontario are made to stand out against the low horizon. With its predominantly peaceful atmosphere, this transition point between land and water conveys the impression of retreat and seclusion. These kinds of marshy areas were often shallow and therefore only accessible with non-motorized, lightweight boats. One can well imagine Thomson paddling his canoe along rivers fringed by forest in order to reach this spot.

Franklin Carmichael, Autumn Hillside, 1920

With lively colors and an overwhelmingly optimistic mood, Carmichael explores the decorative aspects of landscape painting. The structure of the painting is similar to a stage set: The darkened foreground with large rocks and majestic spruce trees contrasts with the frieze of dainty, sun-dappled trees in the background. The painting celebrates the Ontario forest in all its glory. At the same time, there is a notable spiritual presence in this sublime landscape. As with Harris, for Carmichael to the Canadian landscape was a source of spirituality.

A.Y. Jackson, Lake Superior Country, 1924

Here, Jackson focuses on the formations of the terrain in northern Ontario with their basalt ridges formed by prehistoric lava flows. The landscape is strongly stylized and the color palette exaggerated. Arranged rhythmically, the layers of stone are staggered on a slope in purple, pink-violet, vermilion and burnt ochre. Behind the lush vegetation in the foreground, we see a series of young, green and gold American larches, growing where just a few years earlier broad strips of land had been burned. The dark, almost skeleton-like spruces in the background could also indicate the consequences of a fire.

Arthur Lismer, Sunlight in a Wood, 1930

The painting was developed based on a sketch in crayon, which Lismer had produced at McGregor Bay in Ontario. Here, the conifer forest and the diversity of the forest floor become the subject: Ferns and lichen in the foreground of the image form a lively patchwork of colors and patterns. The roots of the fallen tree in the middle of the image provide a habitat for new growth and thus point towards the natural cycle of growth and decay. At the same time, rich color tones and boldly executed brushstrokes imply that this may not be the rendering of a real landscape, but rather an appreciation of color and form.

Lawren Harris, Beaver Pond, 1921

A close-up view of the bank: dead tree trunks standing in the water, and a background of impenetrable woodland. The painting shows Birch Lake in Algoma, which is labelled “Beaver Pond” here. Harris was particularly interested in how beavers, “nature’s architects”, define the landscape with the dams they construct themselves, yet here we see neither people nor animals. The depiction, with its reduced formal idiom, the two-dimensional application of color and intense light, appears timeless and at the same time spiritually charged. For Harris, art was an expression of mental stimulation and the Canadian countryside as its spiritual source.

Tom Thomson, Northern River, 1914–15

The dark, narrow spruce trees with their entwined branches frame the foreground of the picture and reveal the view of a river. The riverbank formations so typical of northern Ontario are made to stand out against the low horizon. With its predominantly peaceful atmosphere, this transition point between land and water conveys the impression of retreat and seclusion. These kinds of marshy areas were often shallow and therefore only accessible with non-motorized, lightweight boats. One can well imagine Thomson paddling his canoe along rivers fringed by forest in order to reach this spot.

Franklin Carmichael, Autumn Hillside, 1920

With lively colors and an overwhelmingly optimistic mood, Carmichael explores the decorative aspects of landscape painting. The structure of the painting is similar to a stage set: The darkened foreground with large rocks and majestic spruce trees contrasts with the frieze of dainty, sun-dappled trees in the background. The painting celebrates the Ontario forest in all its glory. At the same time, there is a notable spiritual presence in this sublime landscape. As with Harris, for Carmichael to the Canadian landscape was a source of spirituality.

A.Y. Jackson, Lake Superior Country, 1924

Here, Jackson focuses on the formations of the terrain in northern Ontario with their basalt ridges formed by prehistoric lava flows. The landscape is strongly stylized and the color palette exaggerated. Arranged rhythmically, the layers of stone are staggered on a slope in purple, pink-violet, vermilion and burnt ochre. Behind the lush vegetation in the foreground, we see a series of young, green and gold American larches, growing where just a few years earlier broad strips of land had been burned. The dark, almost skeleton-like spruces in the background could also indicate the consequences of a fire.

Arthur Lismer, Sunlight in a Wood, 1930

The painting was developed based on a sketch in crayon, which Lismer had produced at McGregor Bay in Ontario. Here, the conifer forest and the diversity of the forest floor become the subject: Ferns and lichen in the foreground of the image form a lively patchwork of colors and patterns. The roots of the fallen tree in the middle of the image provide a habitat for new growth and thus point towards the natural cycle of growth and decay. At the same time, rich color tones and boldly executed brushstrokes imply that this may not be the rendering of a real landscape, but rather an appreciation of color and form.

Lawren Harris, Beaver Pond, 1921

A close-up view of the bank: dead tree trunks standing in the water, and a background of impenetrable woodland. The painting shows Birch Lake in Algoma, which is labelled “Beaver Pond” here. Harris was particularly interested in how beavers, “nature’s architects”, define the landscape with the dams they construct themselves, yet here we see neither people nor animals. The depiction, with its reduced formal idiom, the two-dimensional application of color and intense light, appears timeless and at the same time spiritually charged. For Harris, art was an expression of mental stimulation and the Canadian countryside as its spiritual source.

Tom Thomson, Northern River, 1914–15

The dark, narrow spruce trees with their entwined branches frame the foreground of the picture and reveal the view of a river. The riverbank formations so typical of northern Ontario are made to stand out against the low horizon. With its predominantly peaceful atmosphere, this transition point between land and water conveys the impression of retreat and seclusion. These kinds of marshy areas were often shallow and therefore only accessible with non-motorized, lightweight boats. One can well imagine Thomson paddling his canoe along rivers fringed by forest in order to reach this spot.

Franklin Carmichael, Autumn Hillside, 1920

With lively colors and an overwhelmingly optimistic mood, Carmichael explores the decorative aspects of landscape painting. The structure of the painting is similar to a stage set: The darkened foreground with large rocks and majestic spruce trees contrasts with the frieze of dainty, sun-dappled trees in the background. The painting celebrates the Ontario forest in all its glory. At the same time, there is a notable spiritual presence in this sublime landscape. As with Harris, for Carmichael to the Canadian landscape was a source of spirituality.

A.Y. Jackson, Lake Superior Country, 1924

Here, Jackson focuses on the formations of the terrain in northern Ontario with their basalt ridges formed by prehistoric lava flows. The landscape is strongly stylized and the color palette exaggerated. Arranged rhythmically, the layers of stone are staggered on a slope in purple, pink-violet, vermilion and burnt ochre. Behind the lush vegetation in the foreground, we see a series of young, green and gold American larches, growing where just a few years earlier broad strips of land had been burned. The dark, almost skeleton-like spruces in the background could also indicate the consequences of a fire.

The painting was developed based on a sketch in crayon, which Lismer had produced at McGregor Bay in Ontario. Here, the conifer forest and the diversity of the forest floor become the subject: Ferns and lichen in the foreground of the image form a lively patchwork of colors and patterns. The roots of the fallen tree in the middle of the image provide a habitat for new growth and thus point towards the natural cycle of growth and decay. At the same time, rich color tones and boldly executed brushstrokes imply that this may not be the rendering of a real landscape, but rather an appreciation of color and form.

The attrac­tion of the Wilder­ness

The works by the Group of Seven are testimony to a profound connection with the nature of Canada. What is it about the wilderness that, then as now, is so appealing to us as people? The simplest definition of the term “wilderness” is oriented towards human beings as the measure of all things. From this perspective, it is primarily viewed as the opposite of civilization. An unsettled environment. Impassable vegetation. In European culture, “wilderness” these days is generally esteemed to be an asset worth protecting and striving for. That wasn’t always the case, however. Only with the influence of industrialization did the wilderness, hitherto considered ominous and dangerous, become a place of retreat or longing. This is also reflected in the romantic painting of the 19th century, which aimed to bring expression to the sublimity of nature. Wilderness as a counterpoint to civilization – reflections of this idea can also be found in the remote and atmospheric depictions of landscapes by the Group of Seven. Indigenous people of Canada do not make this distinction. Their notion of the land runs contrary to what is essentially a European idea of the landscape. They see it as that which gives them life and with which they are inextricably linked.

"Land and territory are everything. Language, culture, and identity are connected to those core concepts. People need to realize that not all First Nations are the same. We vary from one nation to the next; the diversity of our respective territories influences all aspects of our lifestyles and cultures. And land is at the root of all our relations."

Caroline Monnet

FIRST NATIONS

FIRST NA­TIONS

Lisa Jackson, How a People Live (video excerpt), 2013

Of course, what is now Canada was inhabited long before the arrival of the white settlers. Today, around one million Indigenous people live in over 630 Indigenous communities, as well as in urban centers across the land.

For millennia, Indigenous people lived and thrived across the lands known today as “Canada.” They lived in harmony with the land and developed rich, independent societies. Painter Emily Carr, born and raised in Victoria, British Columbia, was fascinated by the Indigenous cultures on the Northwest Coast, so different from her British heritage. She travelled up the coast all the way to Alaska, visited Indigenous villages and painted them, focusing especially on their totems.

Emily Carr, Heina Q.C.I., 1928

The Indi­an Act – restric­tive legis­la­tion

On April 12, 1876, the Canadian Parliament passed the so-called “Indian Act”, legislation that aimed to regulate the life and living of the Indigenous population in line with the expectations of the settlers, and which massively controlled and legislated on all aspects of their existence: laws, ceremony, healthcare, education and familial structures. In addition to this, it regulated the use of land by the Indigenous population and severely reduced their mobility and self-determination by means of forced resettlement in reserves. The law enabled the white settlers to regulate 'Status' in a First Nation band. The tragic consequences of this amounted to discrimination of Indigenous culture, the repression of cultural practices, and the separation of families. Children were taken from their parents and sent to live with foster parents or in boarding schools far away from their families, where they would be re-educated under state or church supervision in line with Western culture. During the course of the 20th century, more and more changes were made to the Indian Act. It was only in 1951, that the ban on the potlatch ceremony was lifted. The law exists even to this day and the impact of resulting trauma for Indigenous communities is still felt today.

The year 1914 saw the release of the silent film “In the Land of the Headhunters” as a project by white American photographer and filmmaker Edward Curtis with advice from George Hunt, who was of Tlingit and English heritage from Kwakwaka'wakw territory. The cast of the film consisted exclusively of Indigenous actors, and as part of the fictional plot, cultural rituals and customs of the Kwakwaka’wakw community that were banned at the time were performed and filmed. Since the film was a white man’s project and therefore follows a stereotyping screenplay, it is considered controversial. The offensive original title was later changed to “In the Land of the War Canoes”.

Edward S. Curtis, In the Land of the War Canoes, 1914 (trailer excerpt)

Cana­da – An in­sight into an event­ful his­tory

The history of what is now the second largest country in the world differs from that of its southern neighbor, the USA, despite common roots. Turtle Island (North America) has been home to thousands of Indigenous nations for millennia prior to the arrival of the Europeans. Each have complex and sacred origin stories, speaking to their deep connection with the land, waters and sky. Around 1000, Vikings were the first Europeans to reach the eastern shores of the continent. The French, followed by the English, arrived around 1500, and began the process of settlement and then colonizing these territories. The European invasion became a massive threat to Indigenous peoples – through numerous wars and imported diseases. The compulsive and violent European expansion was immense. The treaties between the British Crown and Indigenous nations eventually led to the forced relocation of the Indigenous people to reservations. In 1776 the USA won independence from British Empire. While the myth of the founding of this country still shapes American politics today, the territory of present-day Canada remained British colonies, until they united to form the self-governing Dominion of Canada, with Quebec maintaining its strong francophone identity. Politically, economically and culturally, however, British influence remains a dominant cultural power. It was only in 1982, that Canada patriated its constitution through the Constitutional Act, however the British Crown continues to be the legal head of state. Since the 1950s, numerous Indigenous nations have brought legal cases against the Canadian government to reassert their sovereignty and inherent rights.

Between recog­ni­tion and approp­riation

The history of Indigenous peoples in the land that now makes up Canada was told overwhelmingly through the colonial lens – and that’s often still the case today, although it’s now changing. These days, Indigenous people are depicted in film and media in a more complex way. The impressive works of many Indigenous filmmakers, as well as artists such as Caroline Monnet, are being recognized both in and outside Canada. The photographer, curator, and cultural theorist Jeff Thomas, puts historic Indigenous footage into a new context. Based on interviews and historical material, Anishinaabe filmmaker Lisa Jackson created the documentation „How a People Live“, commissioned by Gwa’sala-‘Nakwaxda’xw First Nation. It vividly recounts the history of this community, along with the traumas associated with resettlement and its consequences.

Around 1900, British anthropologist and scientist Charles F. Newcombe travelled around Haida Gwaii and photographed Ba’as. Before its destruction, the small port settlement named by settlers Blunden Harbour was home to a Kwakwaka’wakw fishing community. In 1964, the community was forcibly resettled. Emily Carr never actually visited Ba’as herself. Instead, she produced one of her best-known works based on Newcombe’s photograph. In contrast to the photograph, she avoided depicting people and signs of modernity, focusing instead on the wooden totem poles. This way, and thanks to the mysteriously vivid depiction of the place, the representation becomes timeless.

Emily Carr, Blunden Harbour, ca. 1930

Documen­tation of Indi­genous culture

Many of the older documents about Indigenous communities – photographs, postcards, descriptions – were drafted and composed by whites. This makes for notable ambivalence: Even if the intention of this documentation is often to preserve something for posterity or in case of destruction, as well as to make Indigenous culture accessible and understandable, this approach is still determined by the limited perspectives of outsiders. What’s more, it often led to constructed stereotypes that became consolidated in the perceptions of white people and overlooked modernizing elements, for example, in Indigenous peoples’ everyday lives. Certain cliched notions such as the “noble savage” also play a role. With these “documents”, there is therefore always also some doubt as to whether they actually express any understanding of Indigenous culture, or whether they use it consciously or subconsciously as a surface for projection. Today, Indigenous people are reclaiming material, which was produced by whites for a white audience.

Robert Gardner, Blunden Harbour, 1951 (film still)

"At the dawn of the twentieth century, it was widely believed that the 'Indian race' was going to vanish because the death rate had overtaken the birth rate. […] But we are still here. We did not vanish."

Jeff Thomas, 2020

The film collage of Caroline Monnet is a montage from the holdings of the archive of the National Film Board. For the initiative “Souvenirs,” the organization invited Monnet and other Indigenous filmmakers to address questions of identity and representation using existing material, to portray it anew from their specific perspective.

Caroline Monnet, Mobilize, 2015 (excerpt)

INTO THE WILD

Into the Wild

J.E.H. MacDonald, Falls, Montral River, 1920

The artist “getting back to nature” was an image that the representatives of Canadian Modernism were happy to claim as their own. Linked to this were notions of bravado, discovery and the pioneering spirit in supposedly uninhabited nature. Nevertheless, the artists of the Group of Seven only rarely entered virgin territory in the truest sense.

In most cases, painting in nature meant producing small-format (oil) sketches, capturing the mood and color of the landscape. The aim of these drafts is both artistic experimentation with the subject before the artist’s eyes and the rendering of an immediate impression. Both the photograph and F.H. Varley’s “Mountain Sketching” create an impression of sketching in the great outdoors. However, the large-format oil paintings were produced later in the studio based on these studies.

F.H. Varley, Mountain Sketching, ca.1928 Franklin Carmichael at Grace Lake, Killarney Provincial Park, Ontario, 1935

When the Canadian artists travelled into the dense forests in northern Ontario, their starting point was the well-developed rail network of the Algoma Central Railway. They would use a converted decommissioned goods boxcar as base station and accommodation, which they were able to hook up to and decouple from trains along the line as required. From there, they would head out on foot, in boats across rivers and lakes. Sometimes the artists spent the night in tents. Emily Carr travelled through British Columbia. During her later years, she often lived outdoors in a trailed she called “Elephant”.

Unknown photographer, F. H. Varley in Lynn Valley, British Colombia, 1937

"The box car is very cosy and one can soon get dried out."

A.Y. Jackson, 1919

MacDonald’s “The Beaver Dam” developed based on a study the artist had produced on a trip to the Algoma region to the north of the Great Lakes. The image heralds the superiority of nature over man, although both objects are typically Canadian symbols – the beaver as the national animal responsible for building the dam and the canoe as the main means of transportation of the First Nations. European settlers appropriated the canoe both as a means of transportation and as a symbol. Encroaching industrialization and its consequences for nature led to a sharp decline and endangerment of the beaver population.

J.E.H. MacDonald, The Beaver Dam, 1919

NATURE’S TREASURE TROVE

NATURE’S TREA­SURE TROVE

Caroline Monnet, Transatlantic, 2018 (video excerpt)

Canada is one of the world’s most forested countries. For Canadian industry, the endless forests represented an immeasurable economic resource.

In the 1920s and 1930s, large swathes of Canada had long been in use for forestry. Logging was continually on the rise and paper and cellulose production was booming. Many works by artists surrounding the Group of Seven celebrate the beauty of Canada’s nature, yet there are also sketches and paintings that focus on its utilization and exploitation: For example, a series of works by Tom Thomson features dams or log flumes for transportation of the felled timber as subjects.

Log driving in the spring: Raftsmen guide the felled tree trunks through an opening in the dam downriver to the sawmill. The figures appear minutely small in comparison to the mighty river and the huge, drifting logs, which appear to be pushing towards us. The hilltop in the background, which has been felled bare, points to the extent and consequences of the logging. During his time working as a fire ranger at Algonquin Park, Tom Thomson spent some time in logging camps and got to know the logging industry as well as he did the forests of the region.

The sketch by Thomson reflects the tremendous energy and dynamic of a river landscape. It is one of the few studies that the artist later developed into a large-format painting.

Tom Thomson, Log Jam: Sketch for “The Drive”, Autumn 1916

Eco­no­mic prog­ress and colo­nial ideo­logy

Canada’s economic progress was based on the exploitation of resources. From the settler perspective, this required appropriation of land and expulsion of Indigenous communities from their settlements. As the former British colonies confederated to the self-governed state of Canada in 1867, these expulsions increased. In 1876 the Federal Government passed the restrictive “Indian Act” and began negotiating treaties for resettlement of Indigenous inhabitants. The land was de facto cleared to allow for further exploitation of its raw materials. Given the increasing industrial utilization of the environment, efforts to preserve endangered landscapes also increased. Hence, 1885 saw the establishment of Canada’s first national park at Banff in the Rocky Mountains, and in 1893 Algonquin Park was founded to the north of Lake Ontario. On the one hand, the establishment of national parks ended unregulated logging, but on the other it also led to the displacement of Indigenous communities and to limitations or termination of their rights to hunt and fish.

Emily Carr came into contact with the Group of Seven in 1927. The group’s pictorial approaches and relationship to nature inspired the artist, and from this time onwards Carr maintained a close friendship with Lawren Harris. Like Harris, Carr saw the Canadian landscape as a source of spirituality, and from around 1930 she dedicated herself exclusively to depictions of nature. In trees and forests, Carr says, she saw strength, truth, and the very essence of life. Here, in her attempt to capture the spirit of nature, she tended more and more towards abstraction.

  • Emily Carr, Trees in the Sky, 1939

    Slender, fragile pines stretch towards the sky. Between them are countless tree stumps. This landscape shows what remains after logging or a fire, yet the image is not dominated by despair or helplessness. Thanks to the bold, dynamic brushstrokes in the foreground and the longer, wave-like strokes of the background, the entire landscape seems to be in motion – ready for renewal and regeneration.

  • Emily Carr, Reforestation, 1936

    Here, the focus is on reforestation of a deforested or burned area of woodland, with four young spruce trees hinting at new growth. Compared to “Trees in the Sky”, here nature seems even more dynamic: The vegetation in the foreground is like a green sea whose waves are gently rising and falling. Even the swirling spiral in the sky appears to nurture the cycle of life and points towards a spiritual presence.

"It’s a horrible sight to see a tree felled."

Emily Carr

The industry film “Big Timber” commissioned by the Canadian government in 1935 focuses on the topic of logging. It describes the entire process from the fall of the majestic Douglas fir and the cutting of the timber to its export across the Pacific Ocean. In the typical style of the 1930s, the film continually propagates progress through the exploitation of the forest resources and celebrates the achievements and productivity of Canadian forestry, which is now able to supply the world with “one of civilization’s most elementary goods”.

Canadian Government Motion Picture Bureau, Big Timber, 1935 (film excerpt)

Mi­ning

At the beginning of the 20th century, mining became a symbol of industrial modernity in Canada, instigating the shift from an agricultural to an industrial nation.

Mining supplied the country with iron ore, copper, nickel, gold and silver and was supposed to guarantee prosperity for Canadian society. Mineral resources were also important export goods, but at the same time their exploitation was linked to profiteering, conflicts and environmental destruction.

Carmichael, Harris and the artist Yvonne McKague Housser, who was later invited to join the Group of Seven exhibitions, undertook journeys to the mining towns of northern Ontario. Here, they gathered impressions and pondered the role of art in the dichotomy between the myth of the wilderness and the country’s increasing industrialization.

Lawren Harris, Miners’ Houses, Glace Bay, ca. 1925

Narrow and uniform miners’ houses stand aligned like a stage set on a landscape of bare hills. Harris visited the small coal-mining town of Glace Bay in Nova Scotia in April 1925 during the period of a long and bitter strike. In the strikes of 1920 and 1925 the miners opposed wage reductions undertaken by the British Empire Steel Corporation (BESCO). This represented a turning point in Canadian employer-employee relations and forced the government to consider a more conciliatory labor policy. Harris chooses not to address these events directly, but rather to create a bleak scene that appears to have little in common with the all-pervading belief in progress.

Lawren Harris, Ontario Hill Town, 1926

Similarly, as with “Miners’ Houses, Glace Bay”, this dramatic scenery with its stark contrasts and plummeting lines is reminiscent of stage sets from early Expressionist films. Harris began his career in 1908 with street scenes depicting the poorer districts of Toronto. In these subjects, he found another source of social interest, yet his strongly stylized depictions are also not really intended to present a realistic rendering of miners’ living conditions. Rather, he was interested in expressing a specific mood and atmosphere of the place.

Yvonne McKague Housser, Silver Mine, Cobalt, 1930

Here, McKague Housser captures the industrial landscape of Cobalt. When the artist produced this painting in 1930, the mining operations there were already coming to a halt. Silver had been found in the area in 1903 and within a few years it had developed into the world’s most extensively mined area for silver and cobalt. The global economic crisis of 1929 dragged the industry into decline and Cobalt became a ghost town.

Franklin Carmichael, A Northern Silver Mine, 1930

Through his work in the advertising agency Grip Limited and later with print graphics company Sampson-Matthews Limited, Carmichael played a significant role in the dissemination of images focusing on Canada’s industrialization. The silver mines in the mining regions of northern Ontario are depicted here with clear lines, while mining towers and processing plants appear silent and deserted. The wide view and crystalline forms create an image of a landscape which is both merged with, and cut deeply by the mine.

Franklin Carmichael, The Nickel Belt, 1928

The Sudbury Basin, not far from Lake Huron, and the surrounding area developed billions of years ago as the result of an asteroid strike. This area was particularly rich in metal deposits, and as a result major companies settled here by 1900 in order to extract copper and nickel. Here, Carmichael selects an elevated observational standpoint, from which we can see over the rounded hill and into the distance. Incursions into the landscape are evident only in a few details, yet they still succeed in striking a bleak tone. A large plume of smoke rises from a chimney, though the industrial site itself remains hidden.

Lawren Harris, Miners’ Houses, Glace Bay, ca. 1925

Narrow and uniform miners’ houses stand aligned like a stage set on a landscape of bare hills. Harris visited the small coal-mining town of Glace Bay in Nova Scotia in April 1925 during the period of a long and bitter strike. In the strikes of 1920 and 1925 the miners opposed wage reductions undertaken by the British Empire Steel Corporation (BESCO). This represented a turning point in Canadian employer-employee relations and forced the government to consider a more conciliatory labor policy. Harris chooses not to address these events directly, but rather to create a bleak scene that appears to have little in common with the all-pervading belief in progress.

Lawren Harris, Ontario Hill Town, 1926

Similarly, as with “Miners’ Houses, Glace Bay”, this dramatic scenery with its stark contrasts and plummeting lines is reminiscent of stage sets from early Expressionist films. Harris began his career in 1908 with street scenes depicting the poorer districts of Toronto. In these subjects, he found another source of social interest, yet his strongly stylized depictions are also not really intended to present a realistic rendering of miners’ living conditions. Rather, he was interested in expressing a specific mood and atmosphere of the place.

Yvonne McKague Housser, Silver Mine, Cobalt, 1930

Here, McKague Housser captures the industrial landscape of Cobalt. When the artist produced this painting in 1930, the mining operations there were already coming to a halt. Silver had been found in the area in 1903 and within a few years it had developed into the world’s most extensively mined area for silver and cobalt. The global economic crisis of 1929 dragged the industry into decline and Cobalt became a ghost town.

Franklin Carmichael, A Northern Silver Mine, 1930

Through his work in the advertising agency Grip Limited and later with print graphics company Sampson-Matthews Limited, Carmichael played a significant role in the dissemination of images focusing on Canada’s industrialization. The silver mines in the mining regions of northern Ontario are depicted here with clear lines, while mining towers and processing plants appear silent and deserted. The wide view and crystalline forms create an image of a landscape which is both merged with, and cut deeply by the mine.

Franklin Carmichael, The Nickel Belt, 1928

The Sudbury Basin, not far from Lake Huron, and the surrounding area developed billions of years ago as the result of an asteroid strike. This area was particularly rich in metal deposits, and as a result major companies settled here by 1900 in order to extract copper and nickel. Here, Carmichael selects an elevated observational standpoint, from which we can see over the rounded hill and into the distance. Incursions into the landscape are evident only in a few details, yet they still succeed in striking a bleak tone. A large plume of smoke rises from a chimney, though the industrial site itself remains hidden.

Lawren Harris, Miners’ Houses, Glace Bay, ca. 1925

Narrow and uniform miners’ houses stand aligned like a stage set on a landscape of bare hills. Harris visited the small coal-mining town of Glace Bay in Nova Scotia in April 1925 during the period of a long and bitter strike. In the strikes of 1920 and 1925 the miners opposed wage reductions undertaken by the British Empire Steel Corporation (BESCO). This represented a turning point in Canadian employer-employee relations and forced the government to consider a more conciliatory labor policy. Harris chooses not to address these events directly, but rather to create a bleak scene that appears to have little in common with the all-pervading belief in progress.

Lawren Harris, Ontario Hill Town, 1926

Similarly, as with “Miners’ Houses, Glace Bay”, this dramatic scenery with its stark contrasts and plummeting lines is reminiscent of stage sets from early Expressionist films. Harris began his career in 1908 with street scenes depicting the poorer districts of Toronto. In these subjects, he found another source of social interest, yet his strongly stylized depictions are also not really intended to present a realistic rendering of miners’ living conditions. Rather, he was interested in expressing a specific mood and atmosphere of the place.

Yvonne McKague Housser, Silver Mine, Cobalt, 1930

Here, McKague Housser captures the industrial landscape of Cobalt. When the artist produced this painting in 1930, the mining operations there were already coming to a halt. Silver had been found in the area in 1903 and within a few years it had developed into the world’s most extensively mined area for silver and cobalt. The global economic crisis of 1929 dragged the industry into decline and Cobalt became a ghost town.

Franklin Carmichael, A Northern Silver Mine, 1930

Through his work in the advertising agency Grip Limited and later with print graphics company Sampson-Matthews Limited, Carmichael played a significant role in the dissemination of images focusing on Canada’s industrialization. The silver mines in the mining regions of northern Ontario are depicted here with clear lines, while mining towers and processing plants appear silent and deserted. The wide view and crystalline forms create an image of a landscape which is both merged with, and cut deeply by the mine.

Franklin Carmichael, The Nickel Belt, 1928

The Sudbury Basin, not far from Lake Huron, and the surrounding area developed billions of years ago as the result of an asteroid strike. This area was particularly rich in metal deposits, and as a result major companies settled here by 1900 in order to extract copper and nickel. Here, Carmichael selects an elevated observational standpoint, from which we can see over the rounded hill and into the distance. Incursions into the landscape are evident only in a few details, yet they still succeed in striking a bleak tone. A large plume of smoke rises from a chimney, though the industrial site itself remains hidden.

Lawren Harris, Miners’ Houses, Glace Bay, ca. 1925

Narrow and uniform miners’ houses stand aligned like a stage set on a landscape of bare hills. Harris visited the small coal-mining town of Glace Bay in Nova Scotia in April 1925 during the period of a long and bitter strike. In the strikes of 1920 and 1925 the miners opposed wage reductions undertaken by the British Empire Steel Corporation (BESCO). This represented a turning point in Canadian employer-employee relations and forced the government to consider a more conciliatory labor policy. Harris chooses not to address these events directly, but rather to create a bleak scene that appears to have little in common with the all-pervading belief in progress.

Lawren Harris, Ontario Hill Town, 1926

Similarly, as with “Miners’ Houses, Glace Bay”, this dramatic scenery with its stark contrasts and plummeting lines is reminiscent of stage sets from early Expressionist films. Harris began his career in 1908 with street scenes depicting the poorer districts of Toronto. In these subjects, he found another source of social interest, yet his strongly stylized depictions are also not really intended to present a realistic rendering of miners’ living conditions. Rather, he was interested in expressing a specific mood and atmosphere of the place.

Yvonne McKague Housser, Silver Mine, Cobalt, 1930

Here, McKague Housser captures the industrial landscape of Cobalt. When the artist produced this painting in 1930, the mining operations there were already coming to a halt. Silver had been found in the area in 1903 and within a few years it had developed into the world’s most extensively mined area for silver and cobalt. The global economic crisis of 1929 dragged the industry into decline and Cobalt became a ghost town.

Franklin Carmichael, A Northern Silver Mine, 1930

Through his work in the advertising agency Grip Limited and later with print graphics company Sampson-Matthews Limited, Carmichael played a significant role in the dissemination of images focusing on Canada’s industrialization. The silver mines in the mining regions of northern Ontario are depicted here with clear lines, while mining towers and processing plants appear silent and deserted. The wide view and crystalline forms create an image of a landscape which is both merged with, and cut deeply by the mine.

Franklin Carmichael, The Nickel Belt, 1928

The Sudbury Basin, not far from Lake Huron, and the surrounding area developed billions of years ago as the result of an asteroid strike. This area was particularly rich in metal deposits, and as a result major companies settled here by 1900 in order to extract copper and nickel. Here, Carmichael selects an elevated observational standpoint, from which we can see over the rounded hill and into the distance. Incursions into the landscape are evident only in a few details, yet they still succeed in striking a bleak tone. A large plume of smoke rises from a chimney, though the industrial site itself remains hidden.

Narrow and uniform miners’ houses stand aligned like a stage set on a landscape of bare hills. Harris visited the small coal-mining town of Glace Bay in Nova Scotia in April 1925 during the period of a long and bitter strike. In the strikes of 1920 and 1925 the miners opposed wage reductions undertaken by the British Empire Steel Corporation (BESCO). This represented a turning point in Canadian employer-employee relations and forced the government to consider a more conciliatory labor policy. Harris chooses not to address these events directly, but rather to create a bleak scene that appears to have little in common with the all-pervading belief in progress.

OUTRO

OUT­RO

Tom Thomson, Moose at night, Winter 1916

The extensive exhibition MAGNETIC NORTH comprises around 90 pieces including paintings, sketches, documentary photographs and films, shining a light on the artworks by the painters associated with the Group of Seven.

On the hunt for a new pictorial vocabulary for the nation’s cultural identity, which developed its ultimate form in the first thirty years of the 20th century, these works depict a supposed idyll of an untouched world just waiting to be infiltrated and mastered. As it was mythologized in ever more ways during the 20th century, Canadian Modernist painting was disseminated through commercial and profitable publications, exhibitions, documentary films and reproductions. However, it depicts a myth of Canada, which also harbors ideological pitfalls. In the exhibition, the works by the artists associated with the Group of Seven are subject to a critical revision, whereby Indigenous perspectives are taken into account and questions about national identity-building and mindful treatment of the land are raised.

Schirn Shortcut, The Wilderness in Art

Insider Tip

The Northern Lights are a fascinating natural phenomenon. In this sketch, Tom Thomson captures the impressive spectacle with fleeting brushstrokes. Yet the landscape with the pine forest and the atmospheric beams of light is shifted away from a true-to-nature depiction towards abstraction. This shift can also be observed in other works throughout the exhibition.

Tom Thomson, Northern Lights, about 1916–1917