Exploring Emily Carr’s Books: The Book of Small and Klee Wyck—A Personal Connection

 

As I continue to research Emily Carr and dive into her books, The Book of Small and Klee Wyck, I can’t help but feel a deeper connection to her work. I haven’t read these books yet, but I’m very curious about them—especially as I learn more about my own family’s history and their connection to the land and people Carr described.

My great-great-grandfather, John Enos (João Ignacio d’Almada), arrived from the Azores in 1862 and settled in Nanoose Bay with his Songhees wife, Eliza Theresa. They had a son, Joseph, who grew up there. Tragically, Eliza passed away when Joseph was only 14. He kept a diary, which I’ve been exploring, and it’s making me wonder if there could be a connection between my family and Emily Carr’s work. Joseph later married Mary Ann Poirier, and they had six children, one of whom, my grandfather, moved to Vancouver. My grandmother, who came from Sweden when she was two, would marry him.

Emily Carr was born in 1871, and she would have been around 60 years old when my mother was born in 1930. It's incredible to think about how her experiences, and the events she lived through, may have overlapped with those of my family.

Another interesting part of this connection is that Emily Carr is buried in the same cemetery as my great-grandparents, Ross Bay Cemetery in Victoria. As I read The Book of Small and Klee Wyck, I can’t help but wonder whether Emily Carr and my family members ever crossed paths or knew each other, given their shared location and time period.

In The Book of Small, Emily reflects on her childhood in Victoria, BC, and on the connections she had with the world around her. I’m intrigued by the idea that my ancestors could have been part of that same community, experiencing life in the same town. Meanwhile, in Klee Wyck, her observations of the Indigenous peoples along the West Coast make me wonder whether she might have crossed paths with the Songhees people, with whom my great-great-grandfather’s family had ties.

I’m eager to dive into these books and see if any of Emily Carr’s experiences overlap with my family’s history, and I can’t help but wonder how these two worlds—Carr’s art and my ancestors’ stories—intertwined.

Have you read The Book of Small or Klee Wyck? I’d love to hear your thoughts and any personal connections you might have with Emily Carr’s work!

Discovering Emily Carr’s Growing Pains

 

I haven’t read Growing Pains: The Autobiography of Emily Carr yet, but as I research her life and work, I’m learning just how fascinating and resilient she was. Emily Carr was more than just a painter—she was a writer, a traveler, and a woman who defied expectations at a time when female artists were often overlooked.

Published posthumously in 1946, Growing Pains tells the story of Carr’s life from her childhood in Victoria, BC, to her struggles as an artist and her deep connection with the Indigenous cultures of the West Coast. She traveled extensively, studying art in San Francisco, England, and France, each experience shaping her unique style. Her love for nature and her appreciation of Indigenous art set her apart from many of her contemporaries.

As I research more about Carr, I’ve come across some of her quotes that really resonate with me:

"There is something bigger than fact: the underlying spirit, all it stands for, the mood, the vastness, the wildness."

"It is wonderful to feel the grandness of Canada in the raw, not because she is Canada but because she’s something sublime that you were born into, some great rugged power that you are part of."

"Art is art, nature is nature, you cannot improve upon it... Pictures should be inspired by nature, but made in the soul of the artist; it is the soul of the individual that counts."

These words reveal not just her artistic philosophy but her deep reverence for the land and the Indigenous cultures she painted. Her work was ahead of its time, and it wasn’t until later in life that she gained recognition for her contributions to Canadian art.

I’m looking forward to reading Growing Pains and exploring more of Carr’s writing. Have you read it? What do you think of her story and perspective?

Standing Up for Emily Carr: Uncovering the Truth Behind Her Struggles

 

Why I Feel Responsible to Speak for Emily

Emily Carr was not just an eccentric artist or a misunderstood woman—she was a visionary who faced immense challenges, many of which have been misrepresented or outright ignored. Reading through historical accounts of her life, I feel a deep sense of responsibility to challenge the dismissive and sometimes cruel way she has been portrayed. She was labeled as a "nutcake," "hysterical," and "odd," but what if the truth is much deeper? What if her suffering wasn’t just emotional or psychological but also physical—exacerbated by toxic exposure, grief, and the sheer hardship of being a woman in a world that refused to take her seriously?

I want to find and share the truth.

Re-examining Emily’s Health: Was It More Than ‘Hysteria’?

Too often, Emily’s struggles have been chalked up to "eccentricity" or "mental instability," but few people ask: What if her health issues were caused by her environment, her materials, and the lack of understanding about toxic exposure in her time?

We now know that many of the paints and solvents artists used in the late 19th and early 20th centuries were highly toxic. Lead-based paints, turpentine, gasoline, and arsenic-laced pigments were common. It was routine for artists to thin their paints and clean their brushes with gasoline or turpentine, often using their bare hands. Did Emily do this? Almost certainly.

In my own experience as a photographer at Langara College, I made the mistake of handling chemicals without gloves early on. But then I read a book called Overexposed—about a photographer who developed a lump on his neck due to prolonged chemical exposure—and it was a wake-up call. I became much more careful, but Emily wouldn't have had that knowledge. She would have been exposing herself daily, possibly leading to chronic health problems that people in her time dismissed as “nervousness” or “hysteria.”

The Silent Poisoning of an Artist

Consider this: Emily spent time in a sanatorium, where she was likely exposed to fresh paint fumes. What kind of paint was used? For decades, “Scheele’s Green” and “Paris Green” were popular pigments—both of which contained arsenic. If the walls were painted with these or other lead-based paints, she could have been breathing in toxins that worsened her condition.

We also know that gasoline fumes and turpentine exposure can lead to neurological damage, chronic fatigue, and respiratory issues. Combine that with a lifetime of financial stress, emotional grief, and isolation, and it's no wonder her health suffered. But instead of acknowledging these possibilities, history has largely dismissed her struggles as part of her "odd" personality.

The Weight of Grief and Isolation

On top of the physical hazards, Emily endured profound grief and loss. By the time she was 17, both of her parents had died, leaving her in the care of deeply religious older sisters who tried to control her. She was forced into a life that didn’t fit her spirit, and her independent nature was constantly challenged by a society that didn't value women as serious artists.

She lived much of her life in poverty, often retreating to the woods not just for inspiration, but because she had no choice. Renting was out of reach for much of her life, and she had to rely on unconventional means—like running a boarding house and breeding dogs—to survive.

Rewriting the Narrative

The way Emily Carr has been written about for decades is not just inaccurate—it’s unfair. Instead of calling her "hysterical," "eccentric," or "difficult," we should recognize her as:

A woman who defied the constraints of her time.

An artist who worked with hazardous materials that likely impacted her health.

A person who suffered immense grief and hardship, yet still created beauty.

A visionary who saw beyond the limitations imposed on her.

We owe it to Emily to tell the full story—to acknowledge the realities she faced and not reduce her to an outdated stereotype. She was not "crazy." She was a survivor. She was a pioneer. And she deserves to be remembered with truth and dignity.

I feel responsible to stand up for her because too many voices like hers have been erased, dismissed, or misunderstood. It’s time we look at history through a more compassionate, informed lens and give Emily the respect she has always deserved.

What do you think? Have you ever reconsidered how history has portrayed certain figures? I’d love to hear your thoughts. Let's keep this conversation going.

Indigenous artists whose work reclaims their cultural narratives and offers perspectives distinct from Emily Carr's interpretations

 

1. Robert Davidson (Haida)

A master sculptor, painter, and printmaker, Robert Davidson is renowned for his contemporary interpretations of Haida art. His works, such as "Raven Bringing Light to the World," blend traditional Haida formline with modern aesthetics, emphasizing the vibrancy and resilience of Indigenous culture.

2. Bill Reid (Haida)

Bill Reid played a pivotal role in the resurgence of Haida art in the 20th century. His iconic sculptures, like "Haida Dog Salmon - Skaagi," showcase the depth and complexity of Haida mythology and artistry. The Bill Reid Gallery of Northwest Coast Art in Vancouver is dedicated to his legacy and features a comprehensive collection of his works.

3. Sonny Assu (Kwakwaka'wakw)

Sonny Assu's art challenges colonial narratives by juxtaposing traditional Indigenous motifs with contemporary pop culture. His series "Interventions on the Imaginary" overlays traditional formline designs onto Emily Carr's paintings, prompting discussions on cultural appropriation and representation.

4. Christi Belcourt (Métis)

Christi Belcourt is celebrated for her intricate paintings that emulate traditional Métis beadwork. Her art often addresses themes of environmental stewardship and Indigenous rights, reflecting a deep connection to nature and community.

5. Kent Monkman (Cree)

Kent Monkman reimagines historical narratives through a critical Indigenous lens. His alter ego, Miss Chief Eagle Testickle, features in works that subvert colonial depictions of Indigenous peoples, offering commentary on history, sexuality, and identity.

6. Rebecca Belmore (Anishinaabe)

Rebecca Belmore's multidisciplinary art confronts issues of colonialism, displacement, and resilience. Her installations and performances, such as the commissioned sculpture at The Polygon Gallery, evoke powerful reflections on Indigenous experiences and histories.

Exploring Indigenous Art in Vancouver

Vancouver offers several venues where you can immerse yourself in Indigenous art and culture:

• Bill Reid Gallery of Northwest Coast Art: Located in downtown Vancouver, this gallery showcases contemporary Indigenous art of the Northwest Coast, including rotating exhibitions and educational programs.

• Museum of Anthropology (MOA) at UBC: Home to an extensive collection of Indigenous artifacts and artworks, MOA provides insights into the diverse cultures of Indigenous peoples from the Northwest Coast and beyond.

• Coastal Peoples Fine Arts Gallery: This gallery features a curated selection of contemporary Indigenous art, including sculptures, jewelry, and paintings by established and emerging artists.

Engaging with the works of these artists and visiting these venues offers a deeper understanding of Indigenous perspectives and artistic expressions, fostering a more inclusive appreciation of Canada's cultural landscape.

Why These Artists Matter Today

 Here are some Indigenous artists whose work reclaims their own cultural narratives and challenges the colonial gaze, including responses to Emily Carr’s legacy.

Haida & Northwest Coast Artists

1. Robert Davidson (Haida)

A world-renowned master carver and painter who has revitalized traditional Haida art.

His work blends traditional Haida formline with modern artistic approaches.

He has spoken about Carr’s role in documenting Haida art but emphasizes that Haida artists are the true inheritors of their traditions.

2. Bill Reid (Haida)

One of Canada’s most famous Indigenous artists, known for his large-scale sculptures like The Spirit of Haida Gwaii.

He redefined Haida art in a contemporary context, proving Indigenous culture is thriving, not "vanishing."

3. Sonny Assu (Kwakwaka’wakw)

He directly critiques Emily Carr’s work by layering traditional formline over Carr’s paintings in works like Interventions on the Imaginary.

His work challenges the romanticized colonial view of Indigenous cultures and reclaims Indigenous artistic presence.

Artists from Other Nations Across Canada

4. Christi Belcourt (Métis)

Known for her stunning paintings inspired by Métis beadwork and environmental activism.

Her work is deeply tied to Indigenous land rights and cultural resilience.

5. Kent Monkman (Cree)

Famous for his alter ego, Miss Chief Eagle Testickle, who appears in paintings that subvert colonial history.

He reimagines iconic Canadian imagery (like Carr’s or the Group of Seven’s paintings) by inserting Indigenous perspectives.

6. Rebecca Belmore (Anishinaabe)

A performance and installation artist whose work confronts colonial violence, including the erasure of Indigenous voices in art and history.

Her sculptures and performances reclaim Indigenous presence in public spaces.

Why These Artists Matter Today

These artists challenge the idea that Indigenous culture is something from the past.

They bring Indigenous perspectives to the forefront, rather than being interpreted by settlers.

Many of them directly engage with the legacy of Emily Carr, either by critiquing or reinterpreting her work.

Asking AI about Emily Carr for cultural appropriation

 

Yes, some Indigenous artists and scholars have criticized Emily Carr for cultural appropriation and the way she depicted Indigenous art and communities. While she is widely recognized for documenting Indigenous totem poles and villages, the debate revolves around issues of representation, ownership, and her role as a settler artist in interpreting Indigenous culture.

Why Some Indigenous Artists Criticize Emily Carr

1. Cultural Appropriation & Colonial Gaze

   • Carr was deeply influenced by Indigenous art, particularly the totem poles and village sites of the Haida, Gitxsan, and other First Nations.
   • However, she was an outsider interpreting these cultural symbols through her own artistic and European modernist lens. Some Indigenous artists argue that she took inspiration from their traditions without fully understanding their meanings.
   • Unlike Indigenous artists, she did not grow up within the cultures she painted, and her work often removed context, spirituality, and personal connection to the land and symbols.

2. Depiction of Vanishing Culture

   • Carr’s work sometimes reflected the colonial belief that Indigenous culture was "dying out."
   • In reality, Indigenous communities were being actively suppressed by government policies like the Potlatch Ban (1885–1951) and residential schools, yet they were still resilient and adapting.
   • Some critics argue that Carr's romanticized paintings, while well-intentioned, contributed to this narrative of Indigenous cultures as relics rather than living traditions.

3. Lack of Indigenous Recognition

   • While she was inspired by Indigenous art, she did not actively collaborate with Indigenous artists or credit them as artistic peers.
   • Many Indigenous artists of her time were banned from selling their work or practicing their traditions due to colonial policies, while Carr gained recognition for depicting those same traditions.

Indigenous Artists’ Perspectives

• Haida artist Robert Davidson has acknowledged Carr’s technical skill but has pointed out that Indigenous art should be recognized for itself, rather than through the lens of settler interpretations.
• Kwakwaka’wakw artist Sonny Assu has recontextualized Carr’s work in his own art to highlight colonial appropriation.
• Other Indigenous scholars argue that Carr’s paintings, while valuable as historical records, should not overshadow the voices and works of Indigenous artists themselves.

Balancing Carr’s Legacy

While Carr’s work brought attention to Indigenous art and landscapes, the discussion today focuses on shifting the spotlight to Indigenous artists who tell their own stories. Museums and galleries are now more conscious of including Indigenous voices alongside Carr’s work to provide a fuller picture of the artistic and cultural history she depicted.

Asking AI about Race Riots in Vancouver

 The most well-known race riot in Vancouver's history was the Anti-Asian Riot of 1907, organized by the Asiatic Exclusion League (AEL). It targeted the city's Chinese and Japanese communities, fueled by anti-immigrant sentiment, economic fears, and racism.

The 1907 Race Riot in Vancouver

On September 7, 1907, a large crowd, incited by inflammatory speeches at an AEL rally, marched through Vancouver’s Chinatown and Japantown.

They smashed windows, looted businesses, and vandalized homes.

In Chinatown, many Chinese residents fled in fear as their shops were destroyed.

Japantown residents, many of whom were fishermen and martial artists, fought back, successfully defending their neighborhood.

The riot was part of a broader wave of anti-Asian sentiment in Canada and the U.S. at the time, leading to further immigration restrictions, such as the Gentlemen’s Agreement of 1908, which limited Japanese immigration.

Did Emily Carr Talk About the Race Riots?

Emily Carr lived in Victoria and Vancouver during this time and witnessed racial tensions. While she did not focus on the 1907 riot specifically, she did write about her observations of Indigenous and Asian communities.

In Growing Pains, she describes her fascination with different cultures but also reflects some of the racial biases of her time.

She acknowledged the discrimination faced by Indigenous peoples and, to some extent, Chinese immigrants.

However, she was more focused on art and her personal struggles than on political activism.

If you're interested in deeper historical context, I can check for more references to Emily Carr’s views on race relations. Would that help?

Asking AI about Prohibition

 

Prohibition in Vancouver (and British Columbia as a whole) lasted from 1917 to 1921. It was introduced as part of the larger temperance movement and was driven by concerns over public morality, crime, and social order. However, it was short-lived because of widespread smuggling, bootlegging, and government realization that regulating and taxing alcohol was more practical than outright banning it. By 1921, BC replaced prohibition with a government-controlled liquor distribution system.

Did Emily Carr Talk About Prohibition?

Emily Carr lived through the prohibition era in BC, but she did not focus on it extensively in her writings or artwork. Her memoirs, such as Growing Pains: The Autobiography of Emily Carr, mainly discuss her struggles as an artist, her travels, and her observations of Indigenous communities rather than political or social issues like prohibition. However, she did write about the changing nature of Victoria and Vancouver, including her frustrations with societal norms and restrictions, which may have indirectly touched on the atmosphere of the time.

If you're interested in a more specific reference, I could look up any mentions of prohibition in her writings. Would you like that?