Work In Progress – Red Chair © 2010 Michelle Basic Hendry

So I decided the chair needed to be red….

This is the most raw form of the painting after the line drawing, which took twice as long as I expected! The perspective had to be corrected, the light and shadow lines simplified (some of which cannot be seen at this size – the finished piece will be 16×20). In line form, it looked so wrong. And yet once I got some of the paint down, it seems to be working. The complexity forced me to leave the non-architectural shadows to a minimum. I didn’t want to confuse myself when I can eyeball it more easily in the paint stage. This is lit at an extreme angle, and largely from another window.

There’s one way out and one way in
Back to the beginning
There’s one way back to home again
To where I feel forgiven…

With every painting, there is music to accompany it. The song for this painting is rather poignant and inspiring. It’s tone is slightly sad and yet moving and expansive. Painting is a physical, emotional and spiritual experience for me. Music can help bring me back to the mood of the place I am painting and help me to recall the feeling of a location and where I was emotionally at the time.

It’s only love, it’s only pain
It’s only fear, that run through my veins
It’s all the things you can’t explain
That make us human

While reflecting on the idea of this slowly fading place while waiting for the sun to return for the photograph, I thought about the hopes and fears of the people who lived here once and how they seemed bound up in this room, my favourite room in the Livingstone/Stephen’s house. There is one way in, one way out…

I am just an image of something so much greater
I am just a picture frame, I am not the painter
Where do I begin, can I shed this skin
What is this I feel within…

I thought I would share a video of a live performance with you here. When the painting is finished, hopefully in a little more than a week, you will see what I mean. Enjoy Civil Twilight ~ “Human”.

“Kleinburg”, A.J. Casson

I spent a part of my childhood in Kleinburg, attending a school adjacent to the McMichael Canadian Art Collection. I’ll never forget the strange pictures full of colour and wavy forms on the walls of that gallery and in the halls leading into it. I had no idea at that time how important they, and painting in general, would become for me.

The McMichael Gallery was founded on the private collection of Robert and Signe McMichael on their estate in Kleinburg, Ontario. They donated the estate and the entire collection to the Province of Ontario in the mid-1960’s. Their collection was anchored by works of the Group of Seven of which A.J. Casson was it youngest member. (For more on the history of McMichael)

In the early nineties, I accompanied my Mother to the opening of an exhibition of David Milne’s paintings. It was at that opening that I met A.J. Casson. He came in a wheelchair and was near deaf, but, had a sprightly personality that was not dimmed by his 94 years. I was only vaguely aware of who he was at that time. Untutored in art and only beginning that journey into my passion for painting, I was simply in awe of such a celebrity in our midst. People who knew who he was crowded around to say hello to the legendary painter. I was one of them. I said hello and made a comment I cannot remember and he responded with some cheerful joke. It was then I realized he probably couldn’t hear me over the hum of the crowd. His eyes were piercing and he had a big smile. It was a landmark moment for me.

A.J. Casson has always been one of my favourite of the Group of Seven. His paintings of places I knew added to my curiosity. I worked in the building at the left and center of the painting “Kleinburg” as a teenager. The house in “The Client”, I passed twice a day on the school bus. It was, and I believe still is, a Chiropractic Office. My fascination with old buildings was well underway and to see buildings I knew and loved through his eyes and the eyes of his times changed my view of art. My own voice has come through the merging of my love for old houses and the passion I have for Casson’s and the paintings of the Group of Seven.

“The Client”, A.J. Casson

In the years since, I have learned about him, his generation and the impact his work and the work of his contemporaries had on the world of art. I have stood in awe of beautiful paintings by Casson, Thomson, Harris, Varley, Jackson, Carmichael and others in the Art Gallery of Ontario and the National Gallery in Ottawa. Canada’s Group of Seven took aspects of European impressionists, expressionists and the Fauves and made it their own, creating canvases that brought the remote Canadian wilderness to the eyes of urbanites and were instrumental in helping create a national identity for a country that has long struggled to maintain one.

Casson, passed away only months after that meeting, in early 1992. I consider it a privilege to have had the opportunity, even briefly to meet such a great painter. At the time, I had no idea that I, too, would be a painter and how his work would influence mine.

Crystal’s Room, acrylic, 16×24 © 2010 Michelle Basic Hendry

The front room from the house in Uffington featured in June’s “On the Move” post is finally complete. This room was the favourite of Mrs. Fleger’s granddaughter, Crystal. Apparently she took the bed from this room to college. I named the painting in her honour.

The next panting in progress is from the Livingstone/Stephens house. As promised, the following is an excerpt on the house and its deep connection with Muskoka folklore and history.

The Livingstone/Stephens House

(Chapter excerpt from the upcoming “Echoes” – a book of images and stories of some of Muskoka’s pioneer people and their buildings)

…The brightly painted doors on the second floor were quite intriguing. There were at least three layers of paint with the last layer being a bright yellow. The layers of wallpaper had begun to peel revealing a gold, a peachy colour and gray decorative themes. The white trim had once been stained dark and the peeling paint further revealed the many moods of the home’s occupants over the years.

Yellow Door, acrylic, 14×18 (private collection) © 2009 Michelle Basic Hendry

I found myself convinced that there was some little secret thing – a book or a box – hidden in this house that might have a story in it. At the time, I had no knowledge of the history of the property. So instead, I started to imagine the life of a young woman who might have once lived there in the early 1900’s. I can imagine a box of letters… A box that sat in a room just beyond the door… There may have been no box in the house for me to find, but the story I discovered helped me to realize that this once the home of a very prominent and interesting early citizen of Muskoka.

[...]

Farming in Muskoka was often an impossible business due to the rocky terrain, so few would have had the wealth to build a brick house with so much elegant carpentry. It turns out, the house was built on a farm settled by Scottish carpenter, Neil Livingstone who immigrated to Canada in 1861. Mr. Livingstone went on to become a successful contractor in the Bracebridge area, completing the first Registry Office in 1877 and the original Town Hall in 1881. Only the tower remains of the original Town Hall today. The last remaining evidence of Mr. Livingstone’s legacy to Muskoka is that tower, a semi-derelict Dominion Hotel (only the main floor is in use) and the ruin of a once elegant farmhouse.

In a recent interview with 90 year old Elva (Stephens) Bowes, I learned that there was much more to Mr. Livingstone’s story.

In 1877, Neil Livingstone found a nugget of gold in a well in Gravenhurst, setting off an intense, albeit brief, gold rush in the area. It made him an instantly wealthy man and he purchased the farm near Bracebridge. Elva said the story goes that he was engaged to be married, but, the wedding was not to be. It turns out that the lady would not have him because of his penchant for the drink. It is likely that his disappointment drove him further into his vice. His love of visiting the bar at the Dominion Hotel in Bracebridge created debts that he ended up paying with his farm. In 1903, two years before Neil Livingstone died, he transferred the farm and the farmhouse he built in 1891 to Peter Milne, the owner of the Dominion Hotel. The property was handed over in trust so that Mr. Livingstone would be taken care of in his old age and given a proper burial after his debts were settled.

In early 1905 at the age of 84, Neil Livingstone died of pneumonia. Milne sold the farm and the hotel and took his family to Alberta. The farm was sold to Richard Stephens, Elva’s father. Elva was unable to recall the reason her father had a connection with the Hotel man. Her father never touched liquor.

I have yet to find the resting place of Neil Livingstone.

Photograph of Bay Window at Livingstone/Stephens House © 2010 Michelle Basic Hendry

The insistent River of Time flows downstream and eventually its contents disperse in the Sea of the Universe. My husband lost his beloved Grandmother yesterday. The world, for him, is somehow diminished without her presence. His focus is now on the gathering of images and memories of one of his favourite people in the world. Another house has an empty chair.

Before the news came, I returned to the Livingstone/Stephens House. I was seeking new photographs to use as reference for a painting that I want to do for the granddaughter of Richard and Belle Stephens. She had liked “Window Seat” (below) which had sold before we connected. There is another beautiful window I thought I should try (above). Apparently, her great grandfather would sit in this same room in a chair by the window and watch the comings and goings of the farm into his 90’s nearly 70 years ago.

I brought a different chair with me to the old house this time.  As I was setting up to take the photo of the bay window, I began to notice how abused the house had become in the last year. Someone had come through on a recent, and futile, search for copper. The house had long ago been stripped of most of its valuables. All that resulted was further damage to the fragile walls, the disappearance of the last remaining window panes and a deepening loneliness that comes from a house with no one to care for it. Shocking really, when one considers the eminence of its previous residents; first, the builder of some of Bracebridge’s first public buildings and then a reeve. Even more significant, the first resident of the house found gold in Muskoka heralding in a brief gold rush in Gravenhurst. It was likely this gold that afforded this house so much more decorative carpentry than most any other farm house of its age I have found in the region. When the painting is complete later in August, I will finally share the whole story as I have it to date, here on the blog.

“Window Seat”, 14×18, acrylic © 2009 Michelle Basic Hendry

Our lives are summed up by a bunch of furniture and photographs and for those that knew us well – memories. But, past a certain point for many of us the story ends. On the surface, the chair remains empty, but, I believe that on a deeper, invisible level, all those chairs left behind carry much more than wood and cushions. From my own Grandfather that passed away in 2008, I inherited two chairs. One had been in the family for most of the last century, the other, I am not so sure. When I look at those chairs, I think of him and if he visits, I am sure he sits in one of those chairs.

I had believed last year would be my last visit to the Livingstone/Stephens house. This visit, the house felt somehow more empty. It didn’t speak but it did offer what may be its final gift to me. And so I took my pictures and said my goodbye.

Fleger House, Muskoka, June 10, 2010 © 2010 Michelle Basic Hendry

Sometimes, in order to survive, change is necessary. Change is the thing that allows us to flourish. Occasionally we confuse progress and change and believe that we must wipe away the old to make room for the new. So many errors are made and repeated when we forget that there is great value in the things – and people – that we think have become mundane, worn or their value is no longer apparent.

On my various travels, I come across things that remind me of why the objects that we make are more than simply things. Sometimes, they have magic in them – a magic that is often overlooked in modern life because it is subtle.

Ogham Stone, Rathass Church, Tralee Kerry (Wikipedia)

A woman was writing on a forum about a stone in her part of England that had etchings and markings in it that are called Ogham. The mystery surrounding the use of this unusual letter forms similar to Runes is tremendous with most scholarship indicating that it was very practical – used for directions, ownership and grave marking. Over the centuries they took on another life, their translations were copied in medieval manuscripts, and later, with speculation as to their possible connection to Druid magic. 1500 years or more later, are they magic just for existing? Or is it that when we recognize the importance of the mundane – we see the power of its very manifestation? As this woman said, the man who carved the letters in stone was not required to be present for the meaning of his words to indicate his ownership, his power, the fact that he existed. The magic is not so much for him, it is for us and those that follow us.

Perhaps this power – this magic – is in all things we create, including a HOUSE.

Preparing to move © 2010 Michelle Basic Hendry

As I mentioned in my post, “New Hope for Uffington, Muskoka“, the old Fleger House is being rescued from oblivion. I had the privilege of witnessing a part of that process last week. It is amazing to me, in spite of my background, that a house can be lifted up and carried to another location leaving open to the elements, earth that has not seen the light of the sun in 110 years. The great care taken by the gentlemen that lifted and pulled the house to its new location is in no way evident in these photos, but, in the fact that the house did not even suffer a crack.

Preparing to move © 2010 Michelle Basic Hendry

Unlike the the stone marked with Ogham engravings, the house has its story told in many places – in the minds of the elders of Uffington, in the Land Registry Office and in the objects, the wood and nails that remain.

In my research, I have heard conflicting reports as to the origin of the Fleger House. Mr. Iddison was quite certain it was not a manse, but, apparently the testimony of Mr. Johnson (whom I look forward to meeting directly) and the records indicate that when it was built in 1900, that was in fact what it was. According to one of the movers, the building sitting right next to the original location of the Fleger House was, in fact, the Methodist church. It is currently in a sad state of repair and I had believed it to be the general store, but, on closer inspection of the building it seems possible that it could have been the church, lending even more credence that the neighbouring Fleger House was the Manse.

Moving © 2010 Michelle Basic Hendry

The property that all of these building sits on was originally owned by George Spence, one of the earliest citizens and owner of one of two general stores in this once bustling gateway town. (See Ghost Towns of Muskoka for a full account of Uffington’s history or refer to the post links below) The land was divided and passed through several hands. The Methodist Church was one parcel that seemed to be handed around often and I believe was administered by a Rev. Grover Livingstone at one point – a minister often found at and, I believe, once treated at the Gravenhurst Sanitorium. The Johnson family also owned a corner of this farm in the 1930’s. The house was first purchased by a Fleger in 1944, by Doug’s father Earl. Doug (Tom’s father in law) took ownership, officially, from his father in 1968. I was under the impression from Tom Iddison that the move to the house in 1944 was due to a fire that burned Earl’s other house up the road, down to the ground.

Moving to new foundation © 2010 Michelle Basic Hendry

Many stories have come to me in the months since my original visit, including a story about the difficulties of outhouses in January and a ‘frozen’ boot! I expect there will now be many more…

Today, the property is being restored by Pete Marchildon and Judy Veitch (yes, those Veitch’s!) and they have kindly invited me to share the story of this restoration and to further dig into the details of the history of this remarkable little house – a house that in 110 years has seen the rise and fall of a small church, a small town and the continuing saga of rural life in lesser known Muskoka.

Let the next chapter begin.

Preparing to move © 2010 Michelle Basic Hendry

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Other posts related to Uffington, Muskoka:

My fist visit inside the Fleger House

Paintings – Twilight, Mrs. Fleger’s Bedroom Door

New Hope for Uffington

Places of the Spirit – The last Uffington Church?

Work in Progress – Evanescence – The story of the Demise of the Church

Evanescence – The Painting and the History

Final Thoughts on the Uffington Church

A corner of Paradise © 2010 Michelle Basic Hendry

I have been spending a lot of the last couple of years painting the lost homes of others. I spent a lot of time wondering why people could ever part with such special places. The circumstances are many, I have learned, and now I get to experience them first hand.

The family cottage of over 45 years is being put up for sale.

It is one of those things where my history is inextricably linked, and yet, I have no control over the outcome and must watch it go. Its loss is reawakening the losses of family connected to it and the shared history whose life is somehow dimmed by a kind of vanishing. It is a difficult change to accept.

The view from the highest point on the property – one of the highest points on the bay – is so spectacular it has been the subject of previous paintings that have remained, fortunately, in the family. It is a place I spent many hours with my Grandfather. I felt so big being able to climb the steep rocks.

Now, I must go, collect what I can carry, and soon abandon the place of my best childhood memories.

Half way up the rock © 2008 Michelle Basic Hendry

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I am planning to take a formal hiatus from the blog and give myself a chance to sort some things out, go inside, and do a little bit of learning. I have 3 paintings at the easel along with Crystal’s Room – a Livingstone/Stephen’s, a Cooper and St. Stephen’s. I want these to be the best I have ever done. I want all of the emotion I am experiencing to be reflected in them and, perhaps, one or two of my own when I am ready. Many of you have commented on the depth of emotion in my paintings. I need the time to gather the energy to inject that. It takes a lot out of me, I have discovered. I have also discovered that I would rather show only a few paintings than many of lesser depth. I need some time to focus away from what has been my obstacle and rediscover the joy I draw from my art and from creativity in general.

A view from the deck © 2010 Michelle Basic Hendry

So, to gather that energy, I am going to formally take a 6 – 8 week break from the blog and most of my other on-line projects. I will return with paintings, stories, an idea of where I plan to go from here, what will change and what I have learned – maybe even some new and interesting things I have tried. Either way, I know that what I come back with will be the things I best love to share and, perhaps, less of a plan and more of a Life.

Sunrise © 1991 Michelle Basic Hendry

Still in Progress… © 2010 Michelle Basic Hendry

There is nothing worse than discovering errors in drawing when working on a painting. It means that progress is slow in order to ensure corrections are made and the painting is finished as it should be. Sessions are going by with very little visible change. I have struggled with this one and yet I cannot seem to give up. In most any other circumstances a painting that has had so many stops and starts is left to the side and abandoned because the results will never be worth the effort. But, this one is different… There is a deep passion behind it that has been drawing on every resource I have lately.

As a work in progress, it is like me – it is like the real house! As we evolve, change appears slowly and is only noticed when there is a major shift in perception. So, I take another risk and post “Crystal’s Room” still in progress – a month after my initial WIP post. I have let days go by between sessions, as if I am not ready to finish it. I can’t see it yet. Perhaps I am not meant to see it until it is ready. Until my perception makes that shift…