You’ve seen me write about Canberra’s Seven Writers, a group of seven women who got together to share their writing and support each other. All of them published well-received books – novels, short stories, poetry. Well, I was amused – I’m easily amused – to discover the other day as we explored the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO) that Canada has a Group of Seven.
However, Canada’s Group of Seven – as you’ve probably guessed – is not a writers’ group but one of artists. It comprised seven men who had been painting for many years before they formed this group. They first exhibited together in 1920 at the Art Gallery of Toronto, now the AGO. According to signage at the Gallery, they believed that to develop a sense of nationhood, Canada needed to find its voice in art – and they saw this voice as coming through nature and landscape. The group operated – is that the best word? – until 1933, but, the Gallery says, their work “continues to influence national identity”.
The seven artists are men I’ve never heard of: Franklin Carmichael (1890–1945), Lawren Harris (1885–1970), A. Y. Jackson (1882–1972), Frank Johnston (1888–1949), Arthur Lismer (1885–1969), J. E. H. MacDonald (1873–1932), and Frederick Varley (1881–1969). Apparently the Seven did become bigger when A. J. Casson (1898–1992) joined in 1926, Edwin Holgate (1892–1977) in 1930, and LeMoine FitzGerald (1890–1956) in 1932. Mr Gums and I were particularly attracted to the stylised, almost abstract landscapes by Harris, though, really, we didn’t have enough time to explore all the artists in depth.
The Gallery has an impressive collection of their work, due largely to its major benefactor, the collector, Ken Thomson. Because we had limited time, though I’d happily go back to the gallery, we focused the second half of our visit on this collection, and some of the rooms near it. (In the first part of our visit, we checked out the special exhibition which featured Henry Moore and Francis Bacon.) Ken Thomson’s philosophy on collecting art was quoted on the walls:
If your heart is beating, you know it was made for you.
The hanging of the Ken Thomson Collection was interesting – and different to that in many other parts of the Gallery – in that the paintings were hung without individual labels. Instead, in each room there was a large introductory label and a spiral bound book with thumbnails of the works and the needed identification. I had mixed feelings about the approach: it enabled the works to be shown, rather as they would in a home, unadulterated by any immediate mediation, and yet in a gallery I do want to know what I’m seeing. I suspect, though, we are all different in how we want to interact with art. I have seen this sort of approach before – that is, not identifying the picture with a label next to it – in some of the galleries and art exhibits we visited in Japan, but in those places there tended to be very few works on the walls, sometimes just one big work on each wall.
As I’m still travelling, I don’t have time to write too much more, but I wanted to mention the room that was devoted to displaying works by both the Group of Seven and artists contemporaneous with them. The latter were hung on sections of walls painted in a darker grey colour to identify them more easily. These non-Group of Seven works, some of which were by women like Emily Carr, expressed a more diverse, less romantic, perhaps, view of Canada. They included figurative works, which contrasts significantly with the Group of Seven’s pretty much exclusive focus on landscape. One that I particularly liked was the naive style “In the Nun’s Garden” (c. 1933) (see below) which, from a distance, gave the impression of penguins. It’s easy to see how their association with nuns works!
Emily Carr, in fact, is one of the few artists I’d come across before, in my visit to the Canada’s northwest in 1991, where we saw her art at the Royal British Columbia Museum. She was particularly known for painting indigenous Canadians and their culture, though moved into “forest scenes”. She met the Group of Seven, and was apparently encouraged and supported by their “leader”, Lawren Harris. She was also a writer, which, really, is the main reason I know her – through her autobiographical book Klee Wyck.
Another artist associated with the group was Tom Thomson (1877–1917). He died young, before the group’s official formation, but his landscape paintings of the west belong very much to the group’s ethos. The introductory signage described his landscapes as “boldly expressive and passionate”. According to Wikipedia, group member and recognised leader Lawren Harris wrote in his essay “The Story of the Group of Seven” that Thomson was “a part of the movement before we pinned a label on it”. The room dedicated to Thomson’s painting was rather poignant.
One of the great things about travel is getting a sense of how a nation views itself. I think Australians find visiting Canada particularly interesting because we have quite a lot of similarities as well as, of course, our differences. This art exhibition, with its discussion of landscape and nationhood gave me another insight into a country which, like ours, has immense space and dramatic, defining landscapes.
15 thoughts on “Canada’s Group of Seven”
What a marvellous post. I really enjoyed the art work in Toronto and am glad you took the time to share it with us. I love it when people bother to update their blogs with culture from their holidays. Continue to have a very good time. I love the concept of a group of 7 meeting regularly. I wish I had a group like that to get really serious in. Thanks again.
Oh thanks Pam – hope you liked the “penguins”!. While this is primarily a litblog, I do like to pop in other cultural bits and pieces as you’ve noticed. It’s good to know that people don’t mind the digression.
Nice to hear about the Group of Seven from your perspective , and about Emily Carr. I became reasonably familiar with these artists when I was in Canada , so thanks, Sue , for bringing them to my attention again . Sometimes my 5 and a half year idyll in British Columbia seems altogether surreal to me, shrouded in mist. Glad to be reminded it was real.
A pleasure Sara! British Columbia is a pretty lovely place as I recollect. We loved Victoria, but didn’t spend any time in Vancouver. And then oc course those gorgeous Rockies.
I particularly like the Tom Thomsons. Pity he’s dead and won’t be painting any more. :-\
Unfortunately it happens to the best of us, MR! We took more, individual photos but we’re not sure about copyright and their statement that you can take photos ‘for personal use only”. Is a blog “personal use”? I reckon a set of photos like I use here could would be of no use commercially and so took the risk.
I believe it is. I feel pretty sure what’s meant is not for any kind of profit, Sue, as you say.
What a wonderful exhibition. I like the nuns painting too. They are such a nice contrast among the colorful fruits and vegetables and that they do look a bit like penguins adds a touch of whimsy whether or not it was deliberate!
Thanks Stefanie … please excuse my absence on your blog. Will do a reading frenzy when I get back!
At the beginning of my final year in Japan – i.e. 2008/March – I was invited to join an exhibition of seven artists: “The Seven Samurai of the Mind!” Intriguing – magical – lucky number! A mix of painters, designers, potters, photographers… I was one of the latter. Photography for me became a passion out of my intrigue with a landscape almost the antithesis of my Australian homeland. Peaks jutted upwards at severe degrees. Valleys gave narrowed perspectives of faded blue skies. Trees were definitely unlike those of my undulating Australia – all olive-toned and asymmetrical as they are here. Only in the remade versions of Europe (towns/cities/farm windbreaks – poplars) could one find the deciduous varieties of the northern hemisphere. Flowers/blossoms all caught my eye. In my early exchange teacher daze (sic) I was introduced to a remarkable visual expert. He glanced in a desultory fashion at some photos I had taken of the local castle (one of the very few original ones in Japan) and the cherry blossom surrounding it – and put them aside. Later in the meeting, coffees and traditional cakes in front of us – he turned to me and said he would tell me the secret of photography. I was agog – a secret of technique from a master is what all foreigners imagine they would love to receive in Japan – access to the mysterious Japanese aesthetic, right?! Well… So, he said, (SHIMADA-sensei) “It’s not what you put into the view-finder…it’s what you leave out!” Simple words – profound effect on my photography vision therefrom. And so a number of exhibitions in later years in Japan – including my membership of the Group of Seven – as my final exhibition farewell! When I was last in BC (2000) I was looked after by an elderly cousin living near Vancouver’s airport – related via her husband – who had painted many BC landscape scenes – a kind of naïve style. At the same time I caught up with academic friend (in earlier years at Newcastle and at Deakin – then at Victoria on Vancouver Island – and at UBC – still. Sneja GUNEW. Cultural Diversity – Women Writers – Indigenous Literature – here and in Canada. Don’t feel any disquiet at apparent straying from writing to art – they are mere facets of our way of interpreting all aspects of cultural life and of our world!
Thanks Jim … Glad you see it that way too. Love your “teacher daze” and also the point about what you leave out. A bit like the less is more philosophy though more refined!
I still love that quote about the heart, and I’m so glad you put it here because I need to remember to tell it to Sarah!
Yes, I love it too Hannah … and now it is there/here for posterity. You know were to come.
Thanks for this post, which I think I must have missed last month. I now remember I’ve a few Group of Seven photos in my iPhone taken while visiting the AGO last year. How I got familiarized with the GO7 was through my son’s piano books. The Royal Conservatory of Music in Toronto published 8 grades of piano repertoire with their works on the cover. So, while my son was young, going through all the RCM piano grades, we got the chance of looking at their painting every day. For me, Lawren Harris’s snow mountains and Tom Thompson’s trees are my faves. Yes, the images had ingrained in my mind. I’m sure in my son’s too. 😉
Oh, how lovely. The AMA’s (Australian Music Association) books which contained set works here for students weren’t pretty like that. What a nice way to discover art and have it imprinted!