National Post (National Edition)
What my statues said about Macdonald
Sculptures play a more stimulating role than mere commemoration. They are intended to evoke a personal response in whoever views them. It's my belief that only a poor work is static or easily ignored as though it were a cast metal hydrant in a public space.
I have been commissioned to portray John A. Macdonald in bronze twice, once to show him as a teenager and again as an established statesman. Young Macdonald was installed in Picton, Ont., in 2015. The prime minister was placed at Castle Kilbride in Wilmot Township, Ont., in June 2017.
Both sculptures were splattered with paint this summer. Canadians took notice — it seems I had not created fire hydrants.
As a sculptor I have a choice — no, the right — to accept or dismiss a portrait invitation of anyone, and commissions have become my livelihood. I make no claim to scholarship for any portrait subject. A number of these have been politicians and each is rendered with precise and thoughtful research. I admire politicians for what they attempt to do. The impact of effective leadership is a subtle business and any failure of their policy should disturb citizens.
My portraits present a “moment of truth” in a particular time and place. Both design concepts for Macdonald intentionally avoid aggrandizement and each invites a face-to-face encounter. My process integrates intangible truths and specific physicality to create animated characters with historically accurate detail.
In stature, Macdonald seemed similar to Wayne Gretzky. He was an excellent dancer and even in bronze I wanted him to appear light on his feet. He had a mop of wild curls and a quick wit. Even those who loathed the man might well have wished they could share as much laughter with their peers. A portrait of the Confederation membership shows Macdonald seated while all the others stand. His feet are notably splayed, unconsciously showing that he was physically flexible, at least in 1867 at the age of 52.
The Picton sculpture represents Macdonald making his first court appearance in the newly completed courthouse. Holding Court shows this saucy 19-yearold beside a replica of the empty prisoner's dock. Macdonald is both the accused and acting as a lawyer in his own defence. With no legal training, he wins his case. My composition is interactive: it is a specific invitation for viewers to sit in the prisoner's dock and witness this precocious fellow presenting his logic of citizens' rights in the manner he imagined a nation could operate.
Research for the Picton portrait informed my concept for A Canadian Conversation. In Baden, Ont., Macdonald stands as a senior statesman on the grounds of Castle Kilbride. As a politician, Macdonald was tasked with finding common purpose between the English and French, Catholics and Protestants, easterner/westerner, man/woman, native and newcomer. In this bronze, Macdonald is positioned between two dining chairs, as though awaiting guests for a meal. Bearing silent witness, he offers a permanent welcome for living generations to sit and join the conversation.
My job as an artist is to show Macdonald within the context of his time. He was a catalyst, a lightning rod, then and now, for dissent and debate. Regardless of how painful it is, this dialogue should not be feared as it has increased our collective knowledge. I contend that we, the living, consistently wield more power than the dead. We have many options. We need not repeat the choices made in our history. Denying the existence of previous choices benefits no one.
With humble acknowledgment of the residual effects on Indigenous peoples and the shocking inequities they still sustain, I contend that the representations of Macdonald in all capacities have propelled Canadians to a timely and sobering review. There is no outcry when I portray a fine musician but politicians arrive in my studio encumbered by the votes they could not win.
There are no flawless leaders and my portraits do not propose “perfection.” Controversy around the lives and legacies of those who were elected inevitably shaped the national direction. For that reason, dissent must be welcomed and understood as part of a progressive, inevitable process. Freedom of expression encompasses differing points of view and Canadians have the right to see, acknowledge and portray Canada's first prime minister. Presuming this nation warrants respect, there is no doubt that the individual who masterminded its formation deserves regard for that accomplishment.
DENYING THE EXISTENCE OF PREVIOUS CHOICES BENEFITS NO ONE.