In Victoria you can’t escape the presence of our beloved Emily Carr.

Visitors coming to Victoria are often introduced to the presence of larger-than-life Emily first, perhaps, at the bronze statue by sculptor Barbara Paterson which stands on the handsomely refurbished grounds of Empress Hotel. A trip to nearby Carr House, Emily’s birthplace, on Government Street will further acquaint the visitor with Emily’s early life providing inspiration for a to visit the Art Gallery of Greater Victoria, where significant Carr works are displayed.

Many artists have found resonance with Emily Carr. This past year an exhibit at Vancouver Art Gallery featured works by contemporary Canadian artist Landon Mackenzie finding relationship between her own work and that of Emily Carr. About twenty years ago my own work was shown in the Peoples Gallery at Carr House. The exhibition was called “Emily and I, Parallels and Possibities”. At that time I dressed in costume as Emily, giving tours of the nearby geography associated with Carr, as well as offering classes in sketching outside in the garden at Carr House.

So there is an ongoing Carr legacy of what moves artists to paint with passion and authenticity, but this poses several questions in my mind: How can one’s work achieve an independence from the powerful influence of style of such an iconic artist as Carr? Can one paint in the spirit of a strong artist but not copy? Is the work derivative?

What are your thoughts?

Crocuses Beacon Hill Park

Victoria is now experiencing “bud burst. ” you can feel the excitement as the earth is warms  and snow drops, crocuses, and daffodils push upwards Tulips are not far behind. The nearby downtown cherry trees show delicate pink and despite the winds and scattering of snow yesterday we are moving into that amazing spring season that makes this southern part of Vancouver Island such a tourist destination.

In nature “bud burst” is real, not just metaphoric or aesthetic. According to biologists there is a measurable surge of biochemical energy that propels the casing of the blossom to split and spill the lovely folded contents into the air. Long before this surge the plant awakens at the bottom under the soil as fine roots develop winding their way downwards in the search for nutrients to convert to energy for this upward burst of bud into the light. It happens so suddenly.  The covering which encases the blossom breaks open allowing the floral tissues to unfold yielding their colourful splendour.

Perhaps there is an analogue. I experience paintings with a certain bud burst energy that builds and then explodes in me as the first strokes of colour are laid down. Inside there is usually  a strong resistance before the experience of breaking open with those first marks or gestures, those initial tracings which then “invite  the future”. So much content can be encapsulated in that first struggled movement. Do others experience creativity in this way? I would love to hear …

Seeing Red” is the title for an exhibition I haven’t yet had and may never produce. It lives in my head waiting for the requisite number of related and consistent canvases to materialize: red as the excitement of Chinese New Year, red as the colour for passion and love associated with valentine’s day , red as anger, “being in the red” as colour of financial distress, red for Christmas just passed So many passions and so many ways to explore one colour.

Chishingtan Temple, Taiwan

A shamanic mentor and friend has talked about the importance of “passion and trust” in life. As painters we need trust to abandon ourselves to creative intuition, and passion is what drives us to ecstasy. Red is definitely my colour.