Tom Thomson Saw Through The Stormscape - Connecting With The Spirit Of The Land

TOM THOMSON SAW THROUGH THE STORMSCAPE - TO CONNECT WITH THE SPIRIT OF THE LAND

THE BLUSTER OF WEATHER, THE WIND POUNDING DOWN ON THE WORLD, REFLECTED THE ARTIST'S MOOD

     What are those frequent unsettling raps against the window? The devil wanting inside? A wayward spirit needing a house to haunt? Or could it just be the wind tossing the dry raspberry canes back and forth, striking against the glass panes? What about the shadows cast upon the parlor wall? What are they caused by, at this time of night? Are they the shadows cast by the windblown trees in the front yard, interrupting the lamp-light beam from the standard, anchored on the street corner out front of the house? Or possibly, you dwell in a haunted house already, and these shadows are evidence of the inhabitation. The mind plays tricks, on blustery evenings like these, when we think we know what causes the manifestations, yet, admittedly, we can't always be sure. Call it the shadow of doubt.
     Have you ever laid awake at night, during one of those powerful autumn gales, blowing across the landscape, and wondered if the roof of the house would hold onto the rest of the building during the malevolent gusts; or as depicted in "The Wizard of Oz," be completely sucked off its foundation, and flung upwards through space, to then land on a wicked witch somewhere over the rainbow?
     Might you have pondered, for a brief moment, during one of those storms, whether some great spirit, of the universe, known to the culture of Indigenous People's, was angry with the actions of mankind, and striking back as retribution. When, on one of those powerful wind gusts, hitting the side of the house, you swore that someone had just called-out your name, but that would be impossible, right? Or do you lay in bed, wondering what it would be like, being out in a boat, or caught adversely, on the road driving home? Might you even think about haunted houses, ghosts and assorted bandy-legged hobgoblins, the result of books you have read, and Hollywood movies you have viewed in the past? Of course we think of these things, and have our imaginations sparked by these kind of tumultuous weather events. We were introduced to fantasy situations early in life, having been read fairy tales with some not-so-nice characters and situations.
     Those close to Canadian landscape artist, Tom Thomson, knew his passion for contrasts in nature. Those in his company, would see a profound change in his mood, whenever a storm front was moving over the lakeland. There are descriptions of Thomson disconnecting with whatever social circumstance prevailed, to seek a better vantage point, at a lakeside cottage, or out in the open, where he could get a clear panoramic view of the storm clouds, rolling onto the scene. He wouldn't talk at this point, and for whatever time the storm took to pass overhead, he became intimate with it; and most who saw these changes, understood, you see, that he was studying the intricacies of the powerful heart of the storm, to then be able to use the details to enhance an art panel in the immediate future. Others may have thought Thomson saw something in the storm that reminded him of the tempest in his own life. Or that he had identified with the spirits of nature, as he knew from his basic knowledge of folk lore; stories he had heard as a young man, about the legends belonging to the culture of the country's Indigenous Peoples. Could a clever, practical, resourceful young man, so competent as a graphic artist, have been influenced by the abstractions and hearsay of folk lore and legend, such that he would come to believe an autumn storm, for example, could have been manifested by angry spirits? It is doubtful, but possibly he gave it a thought, as he watched the great power unfurl onto the landscape, the wind whipping up whitecaps, and the force tearing limbs off shoreline trees, knocking over birches into kindling upon the bald rocks.
     Tom Thomson, of course, was painting in Algonquin Park, but had done work in the Georgian Bay area fringe of the District of Muskoka, and in the Huntsville vicinity, when a scene struck him as unique, and a circumstance full of the contrast he celebrated as an artist. Whether or not he was moved by legend and lore can't be known. It doesn't show up in his formal biography. He did appreciate however, the rage of the storm, and the power within the front, to transform the lakeland so violently; yet he knew the gentler, more haunting side, when he sat out on those same promontories, where he watched storms pound down, in threatening gyrations over the landscape; and then, in his own personal contrast of interests, sketched the fantastic light exhibition as generated by the Northern Lights. He was delighted, after at least one of these outings, to have several patrons, who saw them drying at Mowat Lodge (I believe), on Canoe Lake, where he had been residing, remark about how haunting and lonely the scenes appeared on paint boards. This is exactly what he had been intending to accomplish, and felt he had attained somewhat special milestone, to have inspired these comments from non-art experts, who had no reason to embellish or compliment, for the benefit of the artist. They didn't know Thomson was standing behind them, or that he was the person responsible for the paintings. There was another occasion, when the daughter of an Algonquin Park employee, identified similarly, that a painting of wildflowers, drying at Mowat, were the precise color of what grew in the forest. He appreciated the child's honesty. On another occasion, a Park Ranger, who had come to investigate who was camping on a particular point of land, overlooking nearby Smoke Lake, came up the hill behind the artist, at work making a sketch, and stood for awhile, amazed at how accurate his work was, depicting the panorama below. In fact, he was so impressed with the Ranger's compliment, that he invited him to stay for a piece of freshly made blueberry pie, in a convection oven he had fashioned over the camp fire.
     The point of drawing the art work of Tom Thomson into this short series of articles, on the spirited lakeland, of Muskoka, is to  profile, in a small way, how artists like the Canadian painter, drew inspiration from the natural environs, and not just during the calm, gentle days with easel and paint-box. Artists are drawn to scenes of contrast, where, for example, a fall wind storm, buffets the shoreline, bending the evergreens, and sending whitecaps crashing upon the shore rocks, capturing all the natural drama of an earthly day. Whether it was in Muskoka, or Algonquin, as Thomson favored for his most dramatic works, the spirit-play had its place in their approach to depicting what often, were incredible scenes possessing obvious enchantments, interpreted in their own way. They didn't see ghosts, or feel the spirit-kind at their backs, or feel particularly haunted in their efforts to paint representations of what they witnessed. But they all felt inspired, and often for different reasons, and by different conditions, that were compelling to them. The more aggressive the weather or condition, such as the Northern Lights, or just the light and shadow akin to a time of day and season of the year, Thomson's level of fascination increased dramatically. It was said, by associate artists, that he was not as fond of the spring season, because it did not possess the more dramatic contrasts he desired. Was he doing this for commercial reasons? Would his work be more popular, because he captured a storm-front, pounding down on the lakeshore, versus say, his panels depicting wildflowers, or "Pointers" being navigated on the lake, in front of an autumn painted shoreline? "The West Wind," one of his best known works, is a prime example, of what Thomson thrived upon, as paintable scenes.
     It is not often the subject of artist studies for purposes of establishing a biography! Did the artist believe in life after death, ghosts, legend and lore, or anything else of a supernatural character, that might have influence interpretation of subjects and scenes? For individual biographies, of course, it is important. It is obviously a very personal thing, and what inspires one to paint, might turn-off another artist. What inspires a writer to write, a painter to paint, a sculptor to sculpt, a musician, to, well, create! But nature, as a powerful, generous source of inspiration, is more often the choice of those pursuing creative enterprise. There is no shortage of opportunity, and contrasts abound. It may not be the handiwork of spirits at play, and seldom would the artist turn quickly at their pursuit, in order to identify a ghost glancing over their shoulder. It is a more subtle experience, and most of us would understand it, if the same artist turned to us, and exclaimed that, "Isn't this a most spiritful place." If it was one of the landscapes Thomson might have chosen to depict, how could we argue with this assessment? Which we might have admitted ourselves, looking out at the same panorama; but not benefitting from the artist's opinion to formulate our own.
     The Muskoka landscape, described many times in the most romantic, sweetly fictional way, as a "Fairyland," is spirited and enchanted in the eye of the beholder. It is not a place, on the grand scale, a guide, running a ghost tour, would think to broaden in travel terms, because of all the wayward spirits the group might encounter. It just isn't like that, in terms of hauntings per square mile. Yet, it is still, in its lovely essence, a spirited, haunted region, if you're looking for that kind of thing, to generate creative juices. It is a "haunted" scene based on the opinion of the voyeur at the time, or during a particularly fantastic weather event, whether picturesque and calm or the middle of a tempest. A perspective that suggests there is more to the scene than meets the eye, may come on the most perfect, calm, sunny day, and as opposite, could be the overview of an artist, watching an autumn gale turn the lake into a boiling cauldron. It is not just the artist, or creative mind, that can sense something of the paranormal, in these same scenes. It is, of course, open to interpretation.
     I am certainly not objective in regards to this point of view. I will always think of Muskoka as a pleasantly haunted region. From personal experience, I find it a most fantastic place, perfect for cultivating creative enterprise.
     NOTE: In the coming days, and weeks, leading up to Hallowe'en, I wish to offer readers some of the stories, so deliciously penned by American Author, Washington Irving, regarding the haunted Hudson River Valley, and of course his well known telling of "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow." The reason this has become a tradition for me, is due to the reality, the Town of Bracebridge, was named after a Squire Bracebridge, an important character in his 1822 collection of stories, entitled "Bracebridge Hall." You must keep in mind, that the first reference to Squire Bracebridge, and his rural estate, known as "Bracebridge Hall," was made in the 1819 circa release of "The Sketch Book," part one of the two book series. It is in the first book, that the story of "Sleepy Hollow" appears. When Federal Postal Authority, William Dawson LeSueur, selected the name "Bracebridge," to brand the new hamlet post office, in August 1864, he could have well taken the name "Bracebridge" from the first Irving collection, and not the second. "Bracebridge Hall," by the way, involves a Christmas-season visit with Squire Bracebridge and family. The earlier "Sketch Book," related the good Mr. Crayon Esq., (world traveller) Irving's fictional narrator, as being in England to attend a Bracebridge family wedding at the great hall. This would be significant because of the immediate relationship with Irving's best known story, "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow." This should be a great literary provenance, the Town of Bracebridge should recognize and celebrate. If not for the adults, for gosh sakes, for the kids at Hallowe'en. There are other communities in North America, having a connection with Irving, that do sponsor "Sleepy Hollow" Hallowe'en parties, with of course, a bandy-legged teacher, fleeing from a headless horseman with a flaming pumpkin in hand. A great and enduring story, known around the world. The fact Bracebridge won't recognize it, makes it more delicious for me, to present via these blogs, as a new tradition.
     As evidence of a little something providential, in my biography, my mother Merle, on our first trip across Bracebridge's Silver Bridge, on that winter day, in 1966, a few miles ahead of the moving truck, that was shipping or worldly possessions to our new home in this fair burg, made the announcement, "Here now, we have officially arrived in our own little Sleepy Hollow." My mother referred to her new hometown as "Sleepy Hollow," from that point, until the final days of her life, early in this new century. When she made this pronouncement, she had no idea that the town she referred to as "Sleepy Hollow," had actually been named "Bracebridge" after a work by the same author. At the point we re-located from the city, to Bracebridge, I was a less-than-attentive school kid, and I knew very little about Washington Irving, other than I had viewed the Walt Disney cartoon of "Sleepy Hollow," some years earlier. So I knew what she meant, but nothing related to the author's biography. She was pretty surprised in 2000, when I published a small book on the subject, of Irving's relationship to Bracebridge, Ontario, Canada. It made her reference to "Sleepy Hollow," a bit more significant.
     If you have read these particular feature articles previously, via these blogs, I hope you will view them as being the repeat of a really good movie, or revisiting a book you read once, but would like to see once again. I will probably repeat them every autumn season, leading up to Hallowe'en in perpetuity, if the Town of Bracebridge, that is, continues to ignore a golden literary provenance, they should definitely embrace, and most certainly celebrate as part of their own rich heritage. Why not? It's free!
     Thanks for joining me today, for this spirited look at Muskoka, and what turns the wheels of creative enterprise.