Rain and Canadian Art

What a rainy weekend to be in Toronto! It's strange to have typical Kingston weather in Toronto, but I definitely feel desensitized to the copious amounts of water falling from the sky.

Being at home is so comfortable. I really should schedule more of these weekends into my life.

I was very fortunate to plan a trip home this weekend because it coincided with the Grand Reopening of the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO). Beginning yesterday and ending tomorrow, the AGO is open to the public for free! I guess this is as close as Canada gets to enculturating her citizens, unlike Britain whose British Museum and National Gallery are always free to the general public. Nevertheless, I took the subway down with a surprisingly quiet and sombre companion and we waited patiently in the rain for our free entrance into the Art Gallery.

Going abroad has given me a basis with which to compare our Canadian art galleries. One of the most evident contrasts was the use of nature. The new Frank Gehry-designed AGO incorporates beams of Douglas fir and a beautiful winding staircase crafted out of wood. Moreover, some of the largest art pieces were simply portions of trees. Even one of the centre pieces of the gift shop sprouted bare branches. Canadian art has traditionally emphasized landscape and our natural resources, but will we ever break free from this natural inspiration or will it always be a staple to the Canadian art diet?

My most exciting discovery was Canadian painter, Cornelius Krieghoff, who painted in the mid-1800s. He painted Canadian life in the 1800s with lots of snow and ice in the winter and the glorious colours of changing leaves in the fall (see above). What struck me as fascinating was its resemblance to Chinese art in that the majority of the canvas (or rice paper) is covered by landscape, while the people are insignificantly small. Not all of his paintings are done in this manner, but the similarity is enough to make me think about the truth in the painting styles.

Trapped in cities, we forget about the land and the lakes. I am so far removed from nature that I forget how insignificantly small I am in this vast world. Sometimes I stand in front of Lake Ontario and watching the line where sea meets sky strikes a chord in my heart. We are so small, but we are also capable of doing so much. Who are we that the Creator of the world should love us?