PART TWO - TOM THOMSON "HAD THE WOOD LORE OF A VOYAGEUR," THE DEVOTION OF A NATURE LOVER, THE SENSITIVE PERCEPTIONS OF AN ARTIST
THE 1930 BIOGRAPHY, "PADDLE AND PALETTE," BY BLODWEN DAVIES
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One might easily imagine, having read the artist's biography, seeing Tom Thomson's silhouette, bold against the glittering moonlit lake, sitting alone, silently sketching the atmospheric wavering, the legend of the Northern Lights coming to life, fanning in soft rainbow colors, high over the Algonquin night-scape. It was the same when wind-storms etched down over the lakeland, and thunder and lightning electrified the scene, in the late spring and early summer, when the weather was hot and humid. From the first tell tale sign a storm was brewing, the initial rumble of thunder, Thomson would watch as the weather event unfolded, changing the calm, serene lakeside, into a steaming cauldron, with its dangerous undertow, and windswept pines, struggling to stay rooted along the rocky shoreline. He found art most profound, when depicting these tumultuous turns of climate and season. His complaint about the summer, was that it was "too green," but the storms gave him the contrast he was looking for, on those lonely vigils communing with nature. He saw beauty within the catastrophes of nature, as much as he did, the energy of life, manifesting, in a most contradictory way, in the amalgamated autumn colors, which he may have even seen, as a most inspiring surge of powerful life-forces, balanced precariously on the cusp of death; before the leaves would fall, and be blown free of the hardwood boughs. He experienced nature intimately, by being cradled and nurtured in its bosom. Blodwen Davies understood this, one of few biographers who appreciated how the artist within, was as much, the visual poet and naturalist, exhibiting his unsubstantiated, but personally fulfilling philosophy, the embedded allure of his paintings.
It was said, by one of Tom Thomson's friends, that the artist was within earshot, on one occasion, when an admirer of his work, noticed, and then commented on an art panel, depicting the Northern Lights. It is to be supposed Thomson had just finished a number of sketches, while in the park, of the Northern Lights, and may have had them spread out at Mowat Lodge to dry, (or elsewhere), beckoning comments from passersby and guests. The comment Thomson heard, reflected on how "cold and lonely" the scene made them feel, a sort of visual "haunting," and the artist perked-up and seemed, by appearances, to revel in the credit, which didn't have anything to do with technical execution of the painting, but everything to do with the mood of the Northern Lights, captured on the paint board. It's what he wanted patrons to say, or feel about his art; especially, if they pointed out, for example, how accurate his colorations were, according to the actual color of the water, at various times of the day, the trees, the sky, and even the petals of the wildflowers he captured in profile, from his sojourns in the woods. He didn't at this time, worry quite as much about the technical critiques, as long as voyeurs thought his portrayals of the Algonquin landscape, for example, made them feel he understood the intricacies of this wild place.
Blodwen Davies, it seems to me, never received the credits she deserved, for her biographical portrait of Canadian landscape artist, Tom Thomson. She has been more intimately associated, as a reference point, with those who have written about the mysterious circumstances, that led up to Thomson's death; ruled by a coroner's report, as being the result of accidental drowning. Judge William Little was the first to use her research, taken from interviews of residents, in the Canoe Lake community of Ontario's Algonquin Park, in the late 1920's and early 1930's. When she found that many of the residents, at that point, had convictions, Thomson had been the victim of foul play, and then dumped into the lake by someone who wanted him to disappear quickly, Davies went to the provincial police with her suspicions the coroner's report had been in error. The police allegedly did a brief survey of the situation, and then dropped it entirely. What Blodwen Davies did create, however, was a lingering doubt about what had actually happened to the budding iconic landscape painter. It was a suspicion that was largely ignored until the 1950's, when William Little, an admirer of Thomson's work, having once been affiliated with a Canoe Lake summer camp, decided with some friends and associates, including artist Jack Eastaugh, to dig up the supposedly vacated Thomson grave, in the Mowat cemetery. It couldn't be considered an exhumation, under the legal definition, because the coffin had been dug-up less than a day after it was buried in the Algonquin soil, back in July 1917. This was arranged by George Thomson, on behalf of the family, with a Huntsville undertaker, by the name of Churchill; and the body was shipped by rail southwest, a few hours later, for re-burial in the community of Leith, Ontario. No coffin in the ground; then it would not be considered an exhumation. So feeling there was no liability, they dug deep, and in a variety of places, thought to be close to what had been described as Thomson's original burial plot. The only problem, of course, is that they hit wood and a lot of it, six feet under. There was a coffin in Thomson's former plot, in Mowat, and a skeleton found inside, presumed to be the remains of Thomson. The spark for all this, and Little's later book, "The Tom Thomson Mystery," published in the early 1970's, was the 1920's intrusive and revealing interviews by Blodwen Davies, who knew there were many inconsistencies in the original coroner's report; and even questionable testimony from those residents in attendance, that July night, in 1917.
This short series of articles on Tom Thomson, is not intended to target, or stir-up controversy, about the mysterious circumstances of his death. Most researchers today, agree that Thomson met with foul play, was dumped unconscious into Canoe Lake, by the murderer, and would meet his end, most likely by drowning, afforded the unfortunate circumstance of being paralyzed under water. Most I have communicated with, also believe Thomson is still buried in the Mowat Cemetery, as William Little and his mates, on that macabre exhumation discovered, and that his plot in Leith today, contains little more than remnants of a metal casket, used by the undertaker, to ship what was probably no more than some Algonquin soil, from the park to the family plot. Even to this day, however, the individual who went public with her doubt, as far back as the late 1920's, has received very little credit for her own due diligence, and the fact it was so compelling, she took the matter to the police. As it would turn out later, even Judge Little had only marginally better fortune, when he handed police a full skeleton. Forensic testing indicated the skeleton had belonged to a man of First Nations' ancestry, and definitely wasn't the mortal remains of Thomson. It is known there was political objection to making the case a sordid public affair, which happened regardless, when the CBC aired a well crafted documentary, also in the early 1970's, based on Little's assumption, Thomson was not only murdered, but was still pushing-up daisies in the Mowat Cemetery. The work of Blodwen Davies, as the record clearly shows, has always been considered an excellent source in regards to Tom Thomson, named in the bibliographies of numerous books, but, in my opinion, never taken as seriously as she should have been by past biographers, and historians.
The reason Davies couldn't go much further, other than to suggest foul play could have been a factor in Thomson's death, was her friendly relationship with certain members of the still-new, Group of Seven artists, who did not want to drag their artist friends name through the proverbial Algonquin mud. She is known to have had a romantic connection with Dr. Frederick Banting, also an aspiring artist, with friends in the Group of Seven, making it somewhat awkward to write openly about her suspicions, Thomson had been murdered. Banting shared some of her concerns, and was even helping her research the story, long after her two books had been published, in 1930 and 1935; and in Toronto bookseller, Dora Hood's biography, she references visits to her shop by Davies and Banting, looking for research material including historic documents, regarding Thomson's life. It can be said with some accuracy, that she never gave up the theory, Thomson had been disposed of, by someone in that Canoe Lake community, for reasons unknown. It has given many writer / historians the platform to continue the investigation, now nearly one hundred years after Thomson's tragic death, at what some claim, was the budding year of his art career. Davies is frequently used as a source of information, but very seldom have I read a glowing review of her original biography of the artist, which I think is outstanding, and well written in every way. Of course, she was well known as an accomplished Canadian author, with many regional books to her credit. I find her descriptions of Thomson quite remarkable, almost as if she had known him well as a friend. It's why I am so pleased to own a rare copy of "Paddle and Palette," published and paid for, by the author / historian, in 1930, as was her second book, in 1935. It was republished in 1967 as a special printing, in celebration of Canada's Centennial Year. Here now is a continuation of the story, as commenced in yesterday's blog, which you can archive if you missed the first installment.
"As soon as the north country was habitable, Thomson started out with his canoe and his packsack, a forest ranger woodsman, or guide. Unnumbered lakes and rivers he paddled through, uncounted islands he camped upon in those years. He soon had a reputation as the greatest fisherman in the north. To the envy and exasperation of other men, he would quietly paddle out where they were luckless and return with a string of fish. 'Tom was never very proud of his painting,' says a friend of the artist, 'but he was very cocky about his fishing'," wrote Blodwen Davies, from her notes collected from interviews in the Canoe Lake neighborhood.
"The country around Georgian Bay, Muskoka, and Algonquin Park, the old Indian land, had a curious quality. Those who once yield to its fascination can never forget it. It is the great playground of Ontario. But in those years Thomson learned to know it as no one had ever known it before. He had the wood lore of a voyageur, the passionate devotion of a nature lover, the sensitive perceptions of the potential artist. Thomson must have felt some of the pagan response to this land, which had made the Indians, for centuries past, people every lake and island with their legendary gods. It is not every man who can live alone in the north country. Strange thoughts crowd about a solitary camper in the pregnant silences. But in that solitude Tom Thomson was happy. He was strong and confident at large with his paddle and fishing rod. He became so expert that he frequently paddled with one hand, and fished with the other. At night he would pitch his tent on some rocky ledge or at the edge of a woods, build his small camp fire, bake or broil his fish, make his biscuits or flapjacks and brew his tea. He was known not only as a celebrated woodsman, and fisherman, but as a cook of excellent repute.
"In the long silences as he lay on the pine needles, or balsam boughs, the north told him her mysteries, the skies bent over him and showered him with their stars. He saw starlight and moonlight spilled into the dark waters, and turned to silver, he saw dawns that were great orchestrations of light and colour. Month by month he watched the magic turning of the year, possessed with the wonder of the primeval, from snow to snow, until he was driven out by merciless winter. Then, back at his desk in an engraving house, he existed till spring came again, dreaming of twisted pines, and ancient waterways and skies, blazing in cosmic splendour."
Blodwen Davies records that, "In 1911 he was working for the firm of Grip. J.E.H. MacDonald, a fellow artist, is a very fine draughtsman and designer, influenced Thomson's tendencies in design. Frequently Thomson did the work on designs originated by the older man. Several of the men were dissatisfied with being merely commercial artists, and spent a good deal of their leisure sketching from nature. They invited Tom to join them. About that time there were in Canada, a number of young artists who were groping about for an interpretation of the Canadian landscape. They were conscious that there was a difference between the landscape of Canada and that of France, England or Italy, but they were at a loss to capture or express the difference. They were dissatisfied with what had already been done, yet they were, so far, only experimenting with their own theories. Here and there a canvas appeared, which showed the trend of their aspirations, some few which actually captured the sense of Canadian landscape. It was fortunate for Tom Thomson, that he fell in with these enthusiasts. He found problems, that all are striving after the seemingly unattainable. He felt that they were all kindred spirits in their search. Thomson bought himself a sketch box and paints and brushes, and set out with his friends to try them out on a sketching trip on the outskirts of Toronto.
"What do you do with these blame things?' he asked, as he opened the box and prepared to start work. Such was Tom Thomson's introduction to the medium of oils. For the first two years his painting was tight and lacked breadth and colour. In the third year he mastered the use of pigments and thereafter, until the end of his brief career, he painted like a genius. To say that Tom Thomson was an untrained artist, with the natural gift for painting, as has so often been said, is hardly true. It is true that Thomson never attended a school of art, but he had the advantage of intimate contact with men, who were thoroughly trained in painting. Today, (1930), several of the men who were closest to Thomson, in those important years of his development, have dominant positions in the arts in Canada. They were already potential directors of creative thought. In addition to the influence of MacDonald as a designer. Thomson had the benefit of the keenly analytical and adventurous thinking of Arthur Lismer, a fellow artist in the engraving house, fresh from training in Belgian schools. He already had something of the spirit of a crusader, fighting for the right of the individual to create, regarding art then, as now, not as a profession, but as a way of life. To no one, could Tom Thomson have turned with his secret aspiration better than to Arthur Lismer, with his practical sympathy and philosophy of art."
The biographer, Blodwen Davies adds, "Then, while Thomson was still struggling with his medium, be became a studio mate of A.Y. Jackson, recently returned from training abroad. Jackson was a Montrealer, enticed up to Toronto by Lawren Harris, another young Canadian artist, of independent means, as well as independent mind, who had also returned from European studios and was devoting himself to painting Toronto street scenes. He was in search of other young Canadian painters, who were on the same spiritual trails as himself, and when he found enough of them, he financed the building of a studio, in which some of them could work together. He had discovered in a canvas of A.Y. Jackson, at an art society exhibition, a quality which indicated the painter's trend of thought, and eventually the young Montrealer was induced to join the Toronto group. During January, 1914, Thomson and Jackson moved into Number 1 studio, in the new building, on Severn Street, in the ravine in Toronto, just off north Yonge Street. The two men became close friends. The men who knew Thomson best, speak of him with a deep-rooted affection. Shy, silent, reserved as Thomson was, he had the ability to instill the deepest loyalty, and the deepest affection in his friends. Jackson possessed a fund of common sense, a keen sense of humour, a great tenacity and a lively vision. He was the ideal companion for the groping, dreamy, temparmental Thomson. Both of them were fundamentally 'men's men.' Their approach to life was simple and direct, their material wants were few, they enjoyed roughing it in the open, and could live simply and on their own efforts, in the big bare studio. Moreover, each was keenly conscious of the spirit of his own land. Thomson's need of expression was chiefly emotional. Jackson's was a blend of emotional and the intellectual.
"Jackson, the trained artist, the fine colourist, and the practical visionary, had much indeed to give the reserved, impractical genius striving so patiently for a means of expression. Yet Thomson too, had much to give Jackson. His passionate devotion to the north, to the very rocks and trees and waters of the wilderness, must have been something of a revelation to the city-bred Montrealer," writes Blodwen Davies, observing that "Jackson's contacts with the land had been in Quebec, or in France, and Italy, - a Europe drenched with tradition, a vast sketching ground, or a Quebec throbbing with the life of a simple, home-loving devotional race. Month after month he listened to Thomson's tales of the primeval wilderness, where man could get within sound of the heart-beats of Mother Earth, where the land was vibrant with a life that had not yet been subdued, to the needs of a mechanical age. All that winter, Thomson was in intimate daily contact with Jackson, a training which, if not based on Jackson's store of knowledge, gained at the price of so much patience, sacrifice and labour. All that he had, Jackson shared unstintedly with Thomson. It was one of those magic hoards, which, divided, mysteriously multiplied itself. In that winter Thomson learned release for his colour sense. He learned how to simplify and summarize. His work gained strength, breadth and brilliance as a result.
"Each autumn Thomson's friends had awaited his return from the north impatiently, anxious to see his harvest of sketches. In the late autumn of 1914, when he returned to Toronto, it was to a sadly disturbed circle. All the promising efforts of the past two or three years, lay under the blight of war. On Thomson's birthday, August 4th, 1914, young Canada took up the sword. However, the friends got together as usual. Tom set up panel after panel that set their imagination on fire. His friends rejoiced with Tom. As months went by in the trial by fire of war, Canada found her nationhood, the little group realized that Canada had also found her soul; that the times were ripe for a national art. His friends were unstinted in their praise of Tom's work. That winter they watched his progress with genuine, unselfish delight. No longer did those splendid moods elude him. He painted at last with prismatic brushes. However, Thomson was never satisfied with his own work. Sometimes he was prey to moods of depression when a canvas would not turn out as he had expected it. Yet he knew elation too, at times, when a picture grew under his brush, and brought out something of what he felt of the spiritual beauty of the primeval north country."
I can still so clearly recall, the first time our family visited the wonderful sanctuary, of the Tea Lake dam, in Algonquin Park, where Tom Thomson often angled in the shallow rapids, and black pools; then sketching from the hollow, where white water splashes over the flat and jagged rocks, spread across the creek-bed as stepping stones. I felt the essence of his spirit that day, and it was just as I had imagined, when I began research into the Tom Thomson mystery, in the mid 1990's, and having had very little experience in Algonquin. My interest was inspired in part, by Judge Little's book. I remember the evening when the Tom Thomson documentary, on CBC was aired, shortly after the release of Judge Little's book, and being absolutely fascinated by the contradictory information, about his death, and the whereabouts of his body; as one man doesn't require two gravesites. Even as a high school student, I became interested in finding out more about Thomson, his art work and his sudden death in July 1917. It was in the early 1970's that I decided to make Thomson a life-long project, and it quite literally has turned out this way. I have written hundreds of feature stories, columns, and overviews, in a number of regional publications in Ontario, and blogs during the past four years, and just when I think I've got nothing left to put to print, some new source of information becomes available, and I immediately want to highlight it for my readers. I am already working on a special year long series in commemoration of the 100th anniversary of his death, to begin in July 2016, to end in the summer of 2017 after twelve issues. I will announce the publication that will carry it, in the near future. I also plan to host a small but unique display of Tom Thomson pieces, inspired and promoting the artist, to show, in a small way, how the artist became iconic in public perception, through commercial exposure since his paintings first caught the attention of Canadian art admirers. This will also be launched at roughly the same time, in July 2016 and carry on for a year.
Please join me in tomorrow's blog, for part three of the Tom Thomson biography, as written by art and Canadian historian, Blodwen Davies, from her under-appreciated 1930 book, "Paddle and Palette." Later in the week, we will also examine Albert H. Robson's 1937 biography, simply entitled "Tom Thomson," an equally well written overview of the artist's work and accomplishments.
NOTE: The article below originally ran in the Great North Arrow regarding Roy MacGregor's important book on the ever enduring Tom Thomson mystery. On this the first day of July, in respect to the 96th anniversary of the artist's mysterious death I have opted to rerun this column.
96 YEARS AGO TODAY TOM THOMSON DIED WHILE TRAVERSING CANOE LAKE IN ALGONQUIN PARK
ROY MACGREGOR’S CRITICAL APPROACH -
TOM THOMSON AND WINNIE TRAINOR GIVEN FULL SCRUTINY
By Ted Currie
A number of years ago now, Canadian art historian, David Silcox, gave me good advice about the study of Tom Thomson.
The author of numerous, well respected books on Canadian artists, and the famous Group of Seven, reminded me to never become so preoccupied with the artist’s mysterious death, that his contribution to the heritage of this country, via art, should becomes a lesser consideration.
It has been happening since Judge William Little’s book, "The Tom Thomson Mystery," hit bookshelves, back in the early 1970's. Assisted by Little’s credible research, assisting with a widely viewed CBC documentary, from the same vintage, a sinister, cold-case scenario was adding murder to the legend, of the life and times of Tom Thomson.
Arguably, over the decades, his alleged murder has gained a momentum of its own. How many admirers now, when looking at his art work, have a loose smidgeon or two of mystery, swirling about in their minds? How did he die? Who would want to kill him? How can one man be buried in two cemetery plots?
. While suspicion had been raised in the early 1930's, by Thomson biographer Blodwen Davies, the CBC and Little had now made a large scale foray into the safe domain of accepted thought. The Coroner’s ruling that Thomson had been the victim of accidental drowning, in Algonquin Park’s Canoe Lake, in July 1917, apparently was full of holes. From the 1970's to the present, the subject of Thomson’s "drowning or murder" has spawned everything from a cottage game, to a plethora of tomes written and re-written, each one to read more exciting and revealing than the other. Thomson’s demise has inadvertently become an income generator for a lot of creative types. Just for the record, I have never earned one cent from writing about the Thomson mystery.
"Tom Thomson; Silence of the Storm," authored by Silcox, and colleague, artist, Harold Town, was one of my most coveted art resources, when I first began writing Thomson-themed columns for the local press, back in the mid 1990's. I own a signed first edition of this large format gem of Canadiana, and I’ve kept the author’s words in mind, whenever tackling a feature series, such as this one for The Arrow, where Thomson factors prominently into the story-line. Fascinated by Thomson’s art panels, David Silcox, without purposely intending to block "mystery" from consideration, certainly influenced this writer to adopt a more insightful, respectful appreciation for his creative endeavors in life. Regardless of how entertaining the story has become, intruding upon the circumstances of his death, for all these years, it is for me today, a secondary consideration to the study of his paintings. When I look at his art now, I do so differently than I did in the early years of research, when I put murder most foul ahead of all sensible proportion. I was determined to solve the case, name the murderer, and find the precise location of his mortal remains.
I have long been a fan of Judge Little’s book, and I have a signed first edition of "The Tom Thomson Mystery," of which I am delighted to own. But my prized acquisition, also a signed first edition, is Roy MacGregor’s newest book, "Northern Light - The Enduring Mystery of Tom Thomson and the woman who loved him." I actually was the first to inform David Silcox, then in England, about the release of this latest Thomson study. Always interested in updates about Thomson, he was curious about MacGregor’s approach, especially when I let him know he had employed the services of a forensic artist to do a facial reconstruction, from the skull uncovered by Judge Little, in the 1950's, during an impromtu exhumation of the supposedly empty Canoe Lake gravesite.
Thomson was supposedly exhumed and moved from the Canoe Lake Cemetery, only days after his original burial, and re-buried in a family plot in Leith, Ontario. Rumors around the lake led Little, and mates, to believe Thomson had never been moved from Canoe Lake. There was a lot of evidence supporting this assumption. With a quandry like that, why not dig up a grave? Indeed bones were found, when the band of contemporaries, on this macabre outing, put the spades through the rotten wood of the found coffin, said to have been the same one that had contained Thomson’s remains. Without question, this was destined to be an enduring mystery, as it has had, from the beginning, so very many curious events, strange characters, odd comings and goings, and coincidences on top of one another.
What is so interesting about MacGregor’s book, without question, is the fact he has now become the "keeper" of the truths, hearsay, rumors, expectations, embellishments and falsehoods about the Thomson mystery. He has become, in one alluring, sensibly prepared compendium, a worthy archivist of many theories and related details of Thomson’s final days; his death, burial, re-burial, and all the strange cast of characters who played a role, large or small, in what today is a full fledged, no holds barred mystery. And it’s his excellent portrayal of Thomson’s love-interest, Winnie Trainor, of Huntsville and Canoe Lake, that colors in the black and white of a former bare bones, incomplete history. As much as a forensic artist can put a face to a skull, Thomson researchers, long into the future, will be able to use his book as an information fountain, where nothing is summarily left out, but rather stacked to overflowing, for the benefit of discerning readers, researchers, to formulate new theories and enhance sidebar stories. As I mentioned in my last column, Roy MacGregor has become the go-to author, for anyone truly interested in a thorough examination of the past 94 odd years, of what most Thomson enthusiasts would call, wild speculation.
In Roy MacGregor’s earlier historic novel "Shorelines," the author offered everso subtly, a tease of actuality, a taste of the way it was, when portraying, with considerable inside knowledge, the relationship between artist and love-interest. He clearly established a precedent for a second book on the subject. It wouldn’t be a work of fiction either.
By his own admission "Shorelines" got him into trouble with some of his own kin, because of his family relationship to Winnie Trainor. Some of the information was too revealing. On the other hand, "Northern Light," is trouble worth taking, for what it reveals about Winnie’s conflicted life following her beau’s tragic death. I was amazed by MacGregor’s insights about this most important woman, and her role throughout the entire Thomson biography. Without this knowledge previously, the story was at best, a deep echo of unfinished research. Don’t think for a moment, Winnie Trainor wasn’t a key player in the Thomson mystery. She was. The book will explain why.
I won’t give away the story-line of a book I thoroughly respect. It is gracious to Thomson’s art work, and it reminds me of the advice by David Silcox, to separate the realities of his art from the strange nuances of conspiracy and alleged murder. He has done this, while at the same time, not holding back information about the artist’s less than stellar moments, as painter Jackson Pollock’s biographers, had no choice but to reveal his eccentricities, over indulgences and emotional outbursts.
After reading many speculative tomes on Thomson, it was MacGregor’s book that illuminated the artist in a human-on-human context, that we can relate to with some added poignancy. What has been written about Thomson’s character, has offered little more than a faint sketch, with nary a trace of mortal fibre. MacGregor’s work, as a sort of re-animation of the artist, allows for us to see for ourselves, the potential of an artist as a young man; a man with a mate, in the throes of either romance or the crisis of a relationship, and an unwanted pregnancy. There is the sensation of an actual heartbeat, and it makes this book special to my interests, in understanding the whole story of the Thomson mystery.
"Northern Light," released in the autumn of 2010, was published by Random House, Canada, and is available in most new book stores. If it’s not on the shelf, you can order one. I had talked to Roy late last year, about a book signing date in Huntsville. He said he’d let me know. And I’ll let you know if a date is scheduled this summer season.
Thanks for joining me for this column. More Tom Thomson stories to come
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