When the Moose Jaw Museum & Art Gallery began researching Ellen Vaughan Kirk Grayson toward producing an exhibition of her work, her nephew, David Grayson, mentioned that there was an unpublished manuscript that his aunt had written about being an artist in the Canadian Rockies. It arrived one day in the mail, still in its old green box, tied with string like a box from the bakery. It contained one handwritten and one typed version of her manuscript, with some ink drawing illustrations, and a few poems. Probably written in stages over the 1950's and 1960's, it covers her reminiscences and experiences hiking and sketching in the mountains from when she was a young woman, who first traveled there with her parents around 1910, through to the completion of the manuscript, in the 1960's. This publication contains that previously unpublished manuscript and it is a natural complement to an exhibition of Grayson’s work.

Her book had never been edited and the suggestions she left for accompanying illustrations did not include her many colour silkscreens or paintings; I assume this was only to make the book less expensive to print. It is my greatest hope that we hav Read More

When the Moose Jaw Museum & Art Gallery began researching Ellen Vaughan Kirk Grayson toward producing an exhibition of her work, her nephew, David Grayson, mentioned that there was an unpublished manuscript that his aunt had written about being an artist in the Canadian Rockies. It arrived one day in the mail, still in its old green box, tied with string like a box from the bakery. It contained one handwritten and one typed version of her manuscript, with some ink drawing illustrations, and a few poems. Probably written in stages over the 1950's and 1960's, it covers her reminiscences and experiences hiking and sketching in the mountains from when she was a young woman, who first traveled there with her parents around 1910, through to the completion of the manuscript, in the 1960's. This publication contains that previously unpublished manuscript and it is a natural complement to an exhibition of Grayson’s work.

Her book had never been edited and the suggestions she left for accompanying illustrations did not include her many colour silkscreens or paintings; I assume this was only to make the book less expensive to print. It is my greatest hope that we have made her book stronger and created more of a sense of the significant skill and accomplishment of this extraordinary, but little-known Canadian artist. During the editing process we endeavored to leave her manuscript very similar to the way we found it, but we did correct place names so that locations could be found on today’s maps and her steps could be followed. In the summer of 2004, I travelled to the Banff area and retraced Grayson’s steps as depicted in a few chapters of her book. In Chapter II, she described one of the hikes that I retraced - up to the place Grayson called ‘The Lakes in the Clouds.’ It is a beautiful and strenuous uphill walk from the hotel beside Lake Louise, to Mirror Lake, and then on to Lake Agnes. Much of what she described has changed - the hotel she first stayed in was likely the old wooden lodge, which was destroyed by fire, and the views she could clearly see of all three lakes, Lake Louise, Mirror Lake and Lake Agnes, are no longer possible because the trees have grown too high. But the descendants of the chipmunks at Lake Agnes, which were a nuisance to Vaughan Grayson while she sketched, also drove me into the tea house to make my notes and reread her book.

Vaughan Grayson was born in 1894, on a farm outside Moose Jaw that belonged to her parents, John Hawke Grayson and Adela (Babb) Grayson. John Grayson was born in Yorkshire, England in 1867, and came to the Moose Jaw area in 1883. John and his brother, William, both married sisters from the Babb family. After Vaughan’s birth her family moved into Moose Jaw, which was experiencing a period of rapid growth. John became a prominent citizen serving as Moose Jaw’s postmaster from 1900 to 1907, and Alderman from 1901 to 1904, and again in 1908. Along with his brother William, who was a lawyer, they formed an insurance and loan business. The family prospered financially and built a new brick house on the Main Street in Moose Jaw across from Zion Methodist Church, which the family had helped found and where Adela spent many hours volunteering. Her family, especially her father and uncle, were enthusiastic travelers who very early in the last century traveled to remote villages on the northwest coast of Canada, as well as the cultural capitals of Europe. Vaughan, her younger brother Keith, and her parents, traveled by train to the Canadian Rocky Mountains for the first time when Vaughan was about fourteen years old. They stayed at the hotels that were built by the Canadian Pacific Railway to accommodate and attract visitors to the Canadian Rockies.

Vaughan attended elementary and high school in Moose Jaw and then went on a trip to Europe, South America, South Africa and Egypt, traveling with her first-cousin, Ethel Kirk Grayson. Ethel was William’s daughter who later in life became a published author. William Grayson collected art and over his lifetime, acquired a large art collection of largely 19th century European and Canadian paintings. Vaughan would have had access to this collection, which was housed in a grand brick house across the street from the home in which she grew up. She recalled how she liked to draw as a child and how she was encouraged and given informal lessons by a local amateur artist named Gertrude Rorason. There are a few very early paintings in existence. One is of Lake Louise that was likely done while she was still in her teens. It appears to be unfinished, but is painted to a greater extent in a more realistic-style. These paintings are probably influenced by the art in her Uncle William’s art collection as it would be unlikely that she would have encountered much of the work of the Canadian landscape painters prior to her travels to the east.

Vaughan’s post-secondary education began at the Curry School of Expression in Boston - a progressive education for the wealthy and artistically inclined young ladies of the era. She specialized in acting, or what at the time they called elocution - the oratory presentation of memorized plays, prose and poetry. She went on to finish with a Bachelor of Science degree from Columbia University in New York City where she studied art education. Also, in the 1920's she studied briefly under Marion Long at St. Margaret’s College in Toronto.

In the early 1920's she came back to Moose Jaw, first as art curriculum advisor to the Moose Jaw Public School Board, and then as instructor of art at the Normal School (teachers’ college) in Regina. In 1929, she became the Director of Art at the Normal School in Moose Jaw. During the 1920's she began writing two books on art appreciation for elementary and high school students that went on to become widely circulated - one book even went into a second printing later in the 1930's. These books cover a series of art lessons that pair pieces of significant European or Canadian art with a few paragraphs of interpretation and suggested correlations between music, poetry and prose. She went on to use a similar idea in her later manuscript where she paired each chapter with quotes from poetry or literature. It is revealing to read these books now for how she interprets the work of artists who are in, what she describes as, the New Canadian School - because very similar comments could be made about her own work. In one chapter she describes Harold Beament’s work, The Mountain, with “Beament’s painting follows the New Canadian School, where big masses and vigorous brush-strokes predominate.” In another chapter she compares J.E.H. MacDonald’s, The Beaver Dam with Tom Thomson’s, The West Wind. Grayson writes,

“Both artists paint after the manner of the modern school. There is a lively freedom in brush technique and in the use of colour, with a disregard for old-world technique. Careful draughtsmanship is forgotten in the desire to express the emotional theme. The Beaver Dam suggests a story-theme relating to man through the canoe, and to the beaver through the dam, while The West Wind is an intangible theme, expressed through design and pattern of the mountain, lake, and trees.”

In her own mountain landscapes she rarely includes any indication of human intervention in the landscape and no narrative is suggested. The rare exceptions are her few self-portraits and the handful of paintings done on the prairies, which most often include buildings.

During the 1920's Grayson continued to travel to the mountains during the summers and even joined a few excursions with the Canadian Alpine Club. This group organized ambitious summer trips that included the opportunity for guided mountain climbing expeditions. Its members were drawn from climbers and mountain enthusiasts from around the world. There is no evidence that Grayson actually climbed to any summits during these summers, but rather preferred to hike to places that would provide satisfactory views for sketching and painting. In 1926, she traveled into the Tonquin Valley with the ‘Alpiner’s’, as she called them, to draw, paint, and hike. After her first few trips with the Alpine Club she seems to have elected to organize her own expeditions - hiring a guide and traveling alone, or with a friend or two, into remote mountain valleys. She filled numerous sketch books and used her stories from these adventures to write her manuscript, which covers trips taken from the 1920's through the 1950's.

In 1929, Vaughan Grayson married Arthur J. Mann who worked at the agricultural experimentation station in Summerland, British Columbia, in the Okanagan Valley. They bought a house at Oyama, near Kelowna, and Vaughan continued to sketch and paint each summer in the Rocky Mountains. Her work, however, increasingly took on the lakes and hills of the Okanagan as their subject. In the early 1930's, Grayson finished writing her books about art appreciation and for the next twenty years she took part in group exhibitions of art in the Okanagan and taught local art classes.

In the 1940's she gained some success submitting her work to the large juried exhibitions organized by the Vancouver Art Gallery. In 1942, visitors to the 11th Annual British Columbia Exhibition at the Vancouver Art Gallery voted her painting, Mount Rundle, to be the 3rd most popular piece out of the 133 works shown. Also during the 1940's, she led sketching trips into the mountains for the Banff School of Fine Arts along with Janet (Holly) Middleton, whom she knew well from the Okanagan.

Her primary intention in writing her manuscript seems to have been to pass on her fascination and love for the mountains. From the first page of the first chapter she radiates this intense feeling of exhilaration and freedom she associates with travel and painting in the Canadian Rockies. She uses numerous quotes, from poetry and literature, to evoke that sense of awe - sometimes these fragments seem to have been so completely internalized (presumably as a result of her early training in elocution) that it is hard to know when she is using her own words and when she has lapsed into Alfred Lord Tennyson’s words. That sense of the sublime in nature, which occupied the work of many of the 19th century romantic poets, makes their work and sensibilities well suited to Grayson’s aspirations for her book.

Perhaps it is that very quality of grandness in nature that makes her less focused on the people that are in the mountains - she is more likely to mention the name of her mountain pony than her artist friends. The comradeship that occurs between people that come across each other on the mountain trails is mentioned, but she rarely identifies these people by name. Even the artists she undoubtably met and whose work she likely felt some connection with are not mentioned in her book; A.Y. Jackson whom we know she met and others whom she never mentions like J.E.H. MacDonald and Walter J. Phillips are never discussed in her book. Perhaps she viewed these artists as fellow mountain enthusiasts and travelers not unlike herself, while Carl Rungius, who is mentioned, differed because he was a wildlife painter with a permanent studio in Banff.

In the early 1950's she began silkscreen printmaking after taking a course in Edmonton and participated in an Edmonton exhibition of serigraphs along with George Weber, Helen Berry, Janet Middleton and others. Silkscreen printmaking was mostly used for advertising and was still relatively new as an art-making technique. Walter J. Phillips used woodblock printing which was, at the time, considered a serious artistic medium. Grayson’s first prints appear to mimic the look of woodblock printing, but her later prints use a very abstracted painterly approach that could only be achieved by screen printing. Her prints were included in numerous group exhibitions, including an exhibition of the National Serigraph Society in New York City, in 1957. It is also likely that she began writing her manuscript in the 1950's and finished it sometime in the early 1960's. In 1962, Grayson submitted the manuscript to MacMillan Co. of Canada for publication, but it was refused.

After her husband died, Grayson spent the winter months in Moose Jaw, and the summer months in the Okanagan Valley. In the 1960's and early 1970's, she took trips to New Zealand, Alaska and Japan, studied art in Mexico at the Instituto Allende in San Miguel de Allende with Fred Samuelson, and in Victoria, she took lessons in Chinese-style brush techniques with Stephen Lowe. During the 1980's her work was the subject of a few solo exhibitions organized by the public galleries in Moose Jaw and Kelowna. In her artist statement for a 1985 Kelowna Art Gallery retrospective exhibition she states that the mountains, “are where my heart is.” She goes on to say that she, “especially liked massive mountain forms or jagged rock, rich in colour, and the lovely colours of the many mountain lakes,” and that, “Hopefully these paintings will recapture the wonder and pleasure I felt in the valleys and mountains...”

Her lifelong quest for travel and adventure in the Canadian Rockies is evidenced by her words and her art. Unfortunately, she died in 1995, a few years before I arrived in Moose Jaw and so we never met. By all accounts she was an elegant and educated woman who, although serious about her art work, never tried to sell her work and in later years did not seek out exhibition opportunities. Friends and family were privileged to receive gifts of her work - but the bulk of her art was in her own collection when she passed away at the age of 100. They passed on to her nephew, David Grayson, who gave many of them to the Moose Jaw Museum & Art Gallery and the Kelowna Art Gallery. The creation of this traveling exhibition presented a wonderful opportunity to publish Grayson’s manuscript within the context of her accomplished paintings, silkscreen prints and ink drawings. It is my sincere desire that this presentation of the extraordinary life and work of Vaughan Grayson be inspiring and enlightening for all.


© 2007, Moose Jaw Art Museum Incorporated/Moose Jaw Museum & Art Gallery. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter I - LAKE LOUISE

LAKE LOUISE
Earth’s most exquisite disclosure,
heaven’s own God in evidence.
Robert Browning - La Saisiaz

AT LAKE LOUISE
Where all enchanted hours prepare
Enchantment for tomorrow’s wear.
Author unknown

“Greetings! Genuine oil paintings this year! Well, well, it is nice to see you, Keith. Is Adela here?”
“Oh yes, we have taken the cabin in the firs there.”
So “Genuine oil paintings!” is still the humorous greeting for these old friends. On one occasion when they were out sketching on a mountain trail an incredulous passerby remarked, “What! Are they genuine oil paintings?”
And so a glorious summer began to unfold for three artist friends. An old car of ancient pattern had been loaned to them for their summer’s sketching tour in the heart of the Canadian Rockies.
For the first month, headquarters were established at Lake Louise. Some little time was spent reconnoitering for views, and in meditating and absorbing the beauty of color and setting. The blue-green waters of the lake are like precio Read More
Chapter I - LAKE LOUISE

LAKE LOUISE
Earth’s most exquisite disclosure,
heaven’s own God in evidence.
Robert Browning - La Saisiaz

AT LAKE LOUISE
Where all enchanted hours prepare
Enchantment for tomorrow’s wear.
Author unknown

“Greetings! Genuine oil paintings this year! Well, well, it is nice to see you, Keith. Is Adela here?”
“Oh yes, we have taken the cabin in the firs there.”
So “Genuine oil paintings!” is still the humorous greeting for these old friends. On one occasion when they were out sketching on a mountain trail an incredulous passerby remarked, “What! Are they genuine oil paintings?”
And so a glorious summer began to unfold for three artist friends. An old car of ancient pattern had been loaned to them for their summer’s sketching tour in the heart of the Canadian Rockies.
For the first month, headquarters were established at Lake Louise. Some little time was spent reconnoitering for views, and in meditating and absorbing the beauty of color and setting. The blue-green waters of the lake are like precious jade set in an emerald forest of conifers, surmounted with the sparkling diamonds of Victoria Glacier. It was found that the dawn, morning, late afternoon and early evening presented entirely different moods on Lake Louise, and that at each hour the appearance of the lake had its own particular charm.
With the dawn, the atmosphere seemed to be exceptionally clear. It was wonderful to watch the first approach of the day. The clouds in the sky, tinted from soft peach to deep rose, and the hitherto fields of snow and glacier, white and blue, turning to rose, then to gold and finally to brilliant, dazzling white - the whole being reflected in its different stages, in the shadowy waters of the lake. Sometimes the treed shore line and rocks appeared as dense as midnight blue, as if loath to give up the cloak of night.
At noonday, vertical ribbons of reflection were spectacular.
In the late afternoon and early evening, the sunset glow on the snow bade farewell to a day of exquisite beauty. Looking northward over the lake to the Pipestone Range1 at sunset is one of the finest color experiences one can possibly have. From late afternoon till dusk the play of changing light upon the rugged, somewhat horizontal plane of the Pipestone Range with the floating, nebulous clouds is a superb drama of silent color changes. The harmonies could only be evolved in a fairy world of radiant light, at times so delicate and soft in pastel tones, and at others so dramatic, in a lavish and oriental display of color and pattern, that only the brush of The Divine artist could paint.
Many happy days were spent around Lake Louise. With each dawn, one was eager to be at the lake and desirous of spending as many hours as possible there, fishing, boating, hiking, painting or just dreaming; for no matter in which direction one looks there is beauty and grandeur to cast a spell and set one thinking of the storied past. Who was the first to thrill to the depths of his being when first seeing Lake Louise? Were they Indians, trappers, hunters, guides, explorers, mountaineers, geologists, who first came upon the lake, wrestling it from grizzlies and other denizens of the mountain and forest? Long before this train of adventurers, there was the time of the dawn, when, with the shrinking of the earth, Mother Nature gave birth with gigantic earth tremors, and thrust up the young, unweathered mountains. Then came the ice age, the last evidence of which are the magnificent ice fields and lakes which are here today.
The last to come are the scientists, engineers, historians, writers, artists and travellers.
An interesting legend has grown up about Tom Wilson, the discoverer of the lake. When he first saw Lake Louise, he named it Emerald Lake, because of the intense and rather remarkable green waters, not unlike copper oxide in color. Later, however, the name was changed to Lake Louise, named for a beautiful English princess, who at one time visited British Columbia, but did not, unfortunately, see the lake which was named for her. The glacier is named for Queen Victoria. The color of the lake is probably due to mineral deposits washed down from the glaciers and partly to its depth and surrounding color of forest, mountain and sky. The story is told that Tom Wilson, the discoverer, and former guide in the mountains, was visited in later years by a traveller, who was eager to meet the man who first discovered Lake Louise. After chatting with him a little while, the traveller requested Tom Wilson to come with him to Lake Louise and show him the exact spot where he had first seen the lake. The old guide didn’t wish to go, but the traveller was so insistent that finally they set out. When they reached the approximate spot, the traveller said, “Well now, what do you think of it today, after all these years? Does it look the same to you as when you first saw it in 1882?” “I don’t know, for I cannot see,” replied Tom Wilson. He had been blind for some time.
Just here it might be interesting to note that the Stoney Indians used to call Louise the “Lake of Little Fishes.” Ferns and wild flowers abound in the forests and along the foot paths about Lake Louise, but perhaps the Iceland Poppy is the most arresting flower there. It was originally imported2, and has taken to its heart the environs of Lake Louise. The poppies are everywhere, and bloom from early spring until late autumn, ranging in color from delicate snow-white, through the pale and deep yellows to deep orange, almost to red. Then there is the very interesting rock garden of native flora situated between the lake and the Chateau. There, the visitor for a day may see many of the lovely native flowers and plants, which are found along the mountain trails. There are sages, fireweed, Indian paintbrush, white and blue marguerites, arnica, heliotrope, lupin, lilies, twinflower and many other native plants.
It is pleasant to ride horseback along the wooded trails in the vicinity of the lake, and to absorb leisurely the beauty of lake and forest. There is nothing that quite equals the delightful vistas one sees when climbing up towards the lakes in the clouds3 - or the beauty of mountain flowers and ferns that one sees when slowly riding along Lakeshore Trail to the Plain of the Six Glaciers.
Although there are excellent tennis courts at Lake Louise we did not particularly wish to play, but preferred to swim in the swimming pool which is a fine, large, well constructed, glassed-in pool situated up on a hill slope and commanding a grand view of the lake and Victoria Glacier. From every section of heavy plate glass one can see a perfect picture. Of course, the icy waters of the lake are much too cold for swimming, but the eighty degree temperature of the water in the pool is perfectly agreeable, and one found it particularly pleasant to swim there in view of the lake and the icy shoulders of Victoria Glacier.
The strenuous mountain climbing by expert climbers and guides was interesting to watch from the large telescope on the verandah, where the climbers with their Swiss guides made their way across the massive expanse of Victoria Glacier. They appeared like little black dots moving single file over the wastes of ice and snow.
One day my two artist companions and I decided to go fishing in Lake Louise. So we got fishing tackle together and a row boat and started out, for on nearly every other occasion when on the lake or walking along the shores, we could see fine, big trout swimming and jumping out of the water, so of course we hoped to catch at least a trout apiece. But although we rowed back and forth around the lake, the fates were unkind, and never a fish did we get. But after all, it did not matter so much - we really had a good time on the lake. Later we discovered that Baker Creek in the valley below the lake was a much better place to become a successful fisherman.
One of the most interesting parties to visit Lake Louise one year (and there are many distinguished visitors) was a party of Oriental noblemen, who thrilled everyone with their enthusiasm for the beauty of Lake Louise. They were up early and late, enjoying the varying moods of the lake. One day, after enjoying a particularly fine sunset they decided to sit up the entire night to watch, from the large windows of the Chateau lounge, the moon rise and its passing over Lake Louise, then wait to herald the dawn, which was especially fine.
One of the loveliest walks at Lake Louise is the path which swings around the westward shore to the foot of the Victoria Glacier. Besides the fine forest of fir, balsam, spruce and pine, which skirts the shore and is so refreshingly fragrant, there are the saucy little chipmunks, the occasional black bear and the conies. These latter are particularly fascinating as they scamper to the nearest rock crevice and there seek cover from all intruders. The cony, or pike, or little chief hare, is commonly called rock rabbit. It is about the size of a gopher and has thick, grey-brown fur, not unlike a mole. It lacks a tail and has, for its size, large rounded ears which are covered with hair inside and out, no doubt to protect it from the cold, for its feet, too, are well padded with hair. Its haunts are the higher altitudes of the mountains, usually in the lichen covered rocks of the moraines, where it is winter nine months of the year.
To continue, along the path which winds back and forth, and eventually leads up to the plain of the Six Glaciers, is a very thrilling experience both exhilarating and inspiring. Victoria Glacier with Lake Louise is like a theatre with a beautiful drop curtain. The play is the last great drama of “The Ice Age.” It is open only for a little over two months, for the season is short. There the naturalist, the geologist, the artist, the writer, the mountaineer and the world and his wife may delight, according to inclination, in Nature’s great masterpiece.


Chapter II - THE LAKES IN THE CLOUDS

MIRROR LAKE
In the shade of your murmuring pine trees,
Is healing and peace and rest.
The long, dim trails on the mountain side
Call men of the East and the West.
M. Stanley

THE LAKES IN THE CLOUDS
Here on the hill
At last the soul sees clear.
Desire being still,
The High Unseen appear.
Charles G.D. Roberts - Hill Top Songs

Remarkable and unusual views may be had from many look-out spots on the hike from Lake Louise up to the Lakes in the Clouds4, great vistas of the Bow Valley, with its rivers like a thread of silver, the Pipestone Range5 and many other mountain peaks and ranges, which remind one a little of the valley of a thousand hills near Durban, South Africa, especially at sunset, when the whole is enveloped in mystic rose and purple tones. Then too, there is that exceptional view of Lake Louise, Mirror Lake and Lake Agnes, all visible at the same time. But the lovely little glimpses one sees through the trees of lake and forest are more intimate and appealing, and too, one is assailed by the fragrance of the balsam and fir. Everywhere on the pathway the lively little chipmunks make friendly advances, greedy for the peanuts or chocolate which one may offer.
Mirror Lake is circular in shape and is in the heart of an evergreen forest of fragrant balsam, silent and beautiful. The last rays of the late afternoon sun casting salmon-rose colored reflections from the rocks and shale on the emerald green of the motionless water is a picture long to remember.
In the late afternoon on my return to Lake Louise, I lingered long enough at Mirror Lake to make a sketch of this delightful bit of pattern and color, which expressed so well the peaceful, quiet beauty of those unexpected places in the mountains. So, leaning against a stately balsam, I opened my sketch box and recorded this exquisite moment of beauty.
Further up the ever steeper trail, one climbs on toward the rugged sky line, first arriving at the falls below Lake Agnes. This water fall, because of its sheer beauty of filmy white lace-like character of delicate pattern, falling over rose and grey colored rocks, is called the Bridal Veil Falls. Both the wind and the noise of the falling water fill the mountains with a constant, throbbing sound. A little higher up, Lake Agnes is reached, sometimes called the Rocky Mountain Goats’ Mirror, because of the rocky turrets and bastions surrounding the lake, which are a favorite haunt for goats.
Here the climber rests to drink in the beauty of this somewhat eerie place. Lake Agnes is a fine example of a “cirque,” an arm chair valley in the high mountains which overhang main valleys. The cliffs are vertical on all sides, except the front, which opens towards the valley below, affording a fine drop of steep rock face of 300 feet over which water falls from the lake above, and in so doing, throbs a gay cadence from the lake above. It is really a deserted basin of a cliff glacier.
When sketching materials were brought out, the chipmunks were a perfect nuisance, running over one’s brushes and paints, playing teeter-totter and jumping hurdles, to say nothing of the way they made themselves at home on one’s shoulders and arms, and in exploring the depths of one’s pockets. Finally it was necessary to take refuge in the nearby tea house, and from there make sketches of the lake in its mountain fastness. What a joy one felt while viewing the changing light and color upon the lake; momentarily it was turquoise, pale jade with salmon and rose streamers breaking over the surface, patterning it in rainbow colors, while towering above were the sinister and precipitous towers of grey-blue and rust colored rocks, holding yet a little snow in their deep crevasses.
Lake Agnes is just one of those places, close to the top of the world, which call one back again and again.



Chapter III - MORAINE LAKE

MORAINE LAKE
And glows with a tremulous, sparkling sheen
Like the jewelled robe of an Eastern Queen.
Rose Fyleman - The Green Loch

MORAINE LAKE AND SENTINEL PASS
Who can believe in growing old [...]
so long as this unimaginable vision is here for us to gaze at ...
John Galsworthy - The Inn of Tranquillity: Felicity

Situated in perhaps one of the most unique and magnificent settings in the world is Moraine Lake. Moraine Lake rests in the famous Valley of the Ten Peaks. These majestic peaks rise to a great height of over some eleven thousand feet. They are formed sharply, like a great saw cutting the clouds and the vivid blue of the sky. The first view is from an elevation looking into the valley. One marvels at the intense turquoise blue of the lake which changes, as one watches, to sapphire and then to emerald and jade. This lake is a superb jewel in a bold and storm-swept setting. There is practically no vegetation on these massive rocks and glacier studded peaks, and, as one stands spell-bound, a terrific rumbling fills the valley and echoes from peak to peak. Presently one sees a rock slide making its hurried way to the lake below, a great splash, and all is still again.
The moraine, a terminal one in this case, is a great mass of tons and tons of rugged rocks and huge boulders, which have been pushed out by the glacier as it cut its way through the valley many, many years ago, hence the reason for the name of the lake.
Many pleasant days may be spent meditating upon the everlasting beauty of the place. The greatest thrill of all, though, was on one bright sunny morning when we climbed the moraine at the foot of the lake, to obtain a better view. From the top of the moraine looking down upon the lake, we were surprised by an unusual sight. Words were inadequate to express the revelation and beauty of that moment. Mirrored in the cerulean blue of the lake was a perfect reproduction of the ten peaks, originally named for the numerals one to ten in the Indian language. Some have been renamed and others still retain the Indian name6. Even as one looked the scene changed, and it was as if the aurora borealis was playing upon the surface of the now jade-like color of Moraine Lake. What an exquisite display of living color - rose, blue, mauve, green and white. As these colors shimmered over the tranquil water, it was as if Nature’s organ of color was rendering its most celestial color extravaganza in a divine symphony of perfect harmonies. The scene changes again, the cerulean blue to jade-green, a perfect mirror of the peaks, which momentarily rest upon the water and magically change to Nature’s symphony of color. What an opportunity for the artist. What a task. It is almost humanly impossible to express with brush and pigments the beauty of the moment.
A happy, sunny August day was spent sketching on the moraine. Presently another adventurer, armed with several cameras, arrived upon the topmost rocks, bent on capturing with color camera something of the matchless beauty of Moraine. It is strange, yet interesting too, how a friendly word of greeting to a stranger in these wildernesses often proves the beginning of a lasting friendship.
“A marvellous view from here.”
“Yes indeed, I’ve never seen anything to equal this.”
“Have you been painting long?”
“No, only a few minutes. One finds it rather bewildering with so much beauty changing so constantly.”
After a little time spent in contemplation and painting, the photographer said, “Do you know, I’ve never seen anyone sketching out like this before.” “Would you,” said he, “be good enough to let me take a picture of you at work? It would give such a fine human interest to the foreground of my color photograph.”
Of course I agreed, and, with another camera, he took a number of black and white studies also.7
At the Vancouver home of my friend, several months later, I had the joy of viewing one of the finest collections of color photographic slides of the Canadian Rocky Mountain scenery I ever expect to see. And how we lived over again the sunshine trails of the summer. There were Nature’s lovely gardens, high meadows full of mountain flowers, Nature’s own rock gardens with pools and tiny water falls, magnificent forests of balsam, fir, spruce and plumy larch - giant mountain peaks piercing the blue of the summer sky, snow fields of purest white and ice fields hundreds of feet thick, showing sometimes blue and green where sheer precipices were visible. And so, another chapter in the chain of friendship was written.
On one occasion when staying for some time at the Chalet at Moraine Lake, we had plenty of opportunity to explore still further into the surrounding mountain country.
So, early one morning, with lunch and camera in our knapsacks we set out to hike to Sentinel Pass, 2,366 feet above Moraine Lake. Our company was made up of newly made friends from Chicago, who, the evening before, noticed us poring over a map of the area. They asked to come along and we were, of course, delighted. Just as we were leaving Moraine Lake, out from one of the cabins dashed a young man with large camera over his shoulder ready to go along. Later we learned that he was a musician from New York.
The rugged mountain path west of the lake wound up for some distance to an upper meadow called Larch Valley. The morning was cool and slightly misty - but invigorating - and the air was fragrant with the perfume of the grasses, flowers, and larch trees. The larch trees were particularly fine in their feathery leafage like lovely fresh green plumes. As we made the ascent we were enthralled with the magnificent view of Moraine Lake below and the tremendous wall of rock which extended high above the lake and still higher above the Larch Valley. It was, of course, the mountains of the Valley of the Ten Peaks.
Presently we were out of sight of the lake and could see the rivulets flowing towards the lake through low scrubby willow, favorite herbage of the moose. Someone spied a moose among the willows but too far away for a camera shot.
On our left were the mighty hanging glaciers. Altho quite misty now with a threat of tight little snow-flakes in the air, we stopped only briefly to take pictures, for we wished, if possible, to see Sentinel Pass before the storm closed in. Usually these summer storms in the mountains are of short duration. So we pressed on up the narrow rugged path, the break between two mountain shoulders, now sprinkled with snow.
Sentinel Pass! What a marvellous view through the high columns of rust and grey colored rock spires called mountain chimneys, a desolate mountain country, not a blade of grass or mountain plant of any kind. From this height, in the deep valley below we recognized Paradise Valley enclosed within the towering mountain walls and glaciers. To the south were the Giant Steps leading down from the Horse Glacier and extending to the west, Mounts Sheol and Temple, now sprinkled with freshly fallen snow. Sentinel Pass is a break in the rock wall, which forms the Paradise cirque.
Here we spent some time taking pictures, scambling along the shale for vantage points.
The wind blew chill so finally we descended into the Larch Valley to enjoy a late lunch, only to discover that our musician friend had neglected to provide himself with lunch. This was soon remedied as we all shared part of our lunch with him. There was plenty of fresh, cold, clear mountain water from a nearby glacial stream to drink and conversation about our travels passed a pleasant half hour.
Soon we were on our way again, back towards the lake. When we came to a branching in the paths, one descending to Moraine Lake, the other leading to Wenkchemna Glacier, we divided company, our American friends returned to the Chalet and “Wembelyiski” and myself, “Whee-wash-tee”8, continued along a narrow shelf like trail towards the Wenkchemna Glacier. To us, it was well worth the extra effort to see this ice field which showed distinctly the direction of flow of the frozen river of the very slowly imperceptible moving ice - continually melting and at the same time constantly building up its depth of ice.
We were loath to turn back on the trail to Moraine Lake, but knew we must ere the dark closed in. When we reached the Chalet the lights were on and dinner about over. Our new found friends were delighted to see us, as they were somewhat concerned about us.
Yes, it was a big day - all of twelve miles hiking in rugged mountain terrain. “One crowded hour of glorious life.”

SENTINEL PASS
Down the edges, through the passes
up the mountain steep,
Conquering, holding, daring,
venturing,
Walt Whitman - Pioneers! O Pioneers!



Chapter IV - CONSOLATION LAKE

CONSOLATION LAKE
The rush of glacial water across the pebbly bar,
To polished pools of azure where the hidden boulders are.
Bliss Carman - Rivers of Canada

CONSOLATION LAKE
The air around was trembling-bright
And full of dancing specks of light,
While butterflies were dancing too
Between the shining green and blue.
Rose Fyleman - Summer Morning

From Moraine Lake an interesting and pleasant foot path or pony trail takes one through lovely woodland of evergreens; and on this sunny August day the air was warm and heavy with the fragrance of balsam. Here and there twinflowers nestled in the soft, thick mat of green mosses on either side of the trail, for it was a northern exposure. These dainty little bell-shaped flowers grow in pairs on a three inch stem with the leaves at the base, on a trailing vine. The flowers are of a delicate shell-pink color with a slight woodsy fragrance. Miniature falls tinkled over rocks and boulders, making exquisite little rock gardens such as one might imagine in a Lilliputian fairy world. The silence was strange, almost ominous, especially is this so when one traverses a new trail alone.
Presently the valley opened, and there was the radiant cobalt blue of Consolation Lake, never to be forgotten, with the sunshine literally sparkling over the surface of the water, which was ruffled by a slight breeze, and, in the background, was the fearsome Mount Bident, with its glaciers flanked by immense rock buttresses.
The valley floor was covered with gigantic angular and sharp rose-red and green rocks, and, in the heart of this desolation, is Consolation Lake.
Almost before I realized it, I had walked into a holiday fisherman. He was returning with a basket full of mountain trout, his limit for the day, and it was still early morning; he proudly opened his basket to display the catch - such beauties, speckled and rainbow trout. Such is the comradeship of strangers in the mountains.
The lake is rather inaccessible and perhaps for that reason it abounds in trout, which are perfectly delicious, especially when cooked in the open with a little bacon fat and served with a dash of tomato catsup, bread and butter and coffee - a feast for the gods. Try it sometime - it is life at the peak. Thinking of myself alone again I was suddenly surprised to find an artist behind a bold rock putting away his materials, making ready to depart. A pleasant conversation ensued regarding the varied experiences and thrills encountered while endeavoring to paint the Rockies.
Alone again, I reconnoitered for the view. Crossing over a crude log bridge, which was swung over a narrow wash of lake, the dividing line between the two main bodies of water. I found a big flat rock upon which to sit and also use as an easel. Finally I set to work with a will to express the refreshing beauty of Consolation Lake, in its spectacular mountain setting. It appealed to me very strongly, first for its color, the vivid cobalt blue of the water and contrasting rust-red and soft blue and greenish rock buttresses and walls of Mount Bident, the ice shelves and snow-filled pockets; secondly for the hard rugged character of the mountain setting; and finally, for the theme as a whole, for it seemed to suggest the brilliant and intense coloring of a fine Turkish rug or a modern Russian painting. The preliminary sketch presented some interesting problems in perspective, but what fun to use freely of the rich and lovely colors spread upon the palette; and so, a lively, happy portrait of Consolation Lake came into being.



Chapter V - PARADISE VALLEY

ANNETT LAKE
The splendor falls on castle walls,
And snowy summits old in story;
The long light shakes across the lakes
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Tennyson - The Splendour Falls

PARADISE VALLEY
No sound of living breaks upon my ear -
No strain of thought, no reckless human will -
Only the virgin quiet everywhere -
Earth never seemed so far, or heaven so near.
Author unknown

One day my friends and I decided to visit Paradise Valley, so out came the little old car and we piled in with our equipment, which was, of necessity, light, for as soon as we would leave the car at the nearest point to the valley, we would have to walk about five miles in, making about ten miles in all for the day.
It was a good day, although at times we were concerned for fear it might rain. Our trail struck off from the main road at Paradise Creek on the Moraine Lake road. At first the trail was rough and steep and very winding, in fact if we hadn’t been forewarned and studied a map rather carefully, we would have found ourselves over in the Valley of the Ten Peaks, or back in the Lake Louise area; such a thing has happened. The trails, while marked, are a bit confusing at certain junctions. However, when we felt we were going in the wrong direction, we held to our faith in the ultimate turning of the trail, which it eventually did, and we found ourselves in the famous Paradise Valley. Because it is difficult to access, few tourists ever find their way to this delightful spot.
It is quite a wide valley, bordered by sinister looking mountains, to the right Sheol, meaning Hell, sombre and reddish, and the shadowy blue of Mount Temple to the left. A noisy, furiously rushing creek, over which we crossed and recrossed many times on log foot-bridges, hurried its spirited way to the Bow Valley far below. We passed through some very fine tall cedars, which formed a beautiful cathedral. Presently a branching path marked “Annett Lake” lured us off our course, and we found ourselves at Annett Lake for lunch. The trail led abruptly up and directly towards Temple Mountain, although we could not see the mountain for the deep forest. Being thirsty, we scouted around through the somewhat dank forest, over fallen trees and through masses of fern and moss, for the creek we knew must be somewhere near. When the water was reached, a hidden rill was discovered splashing merrily through the rocks and ferns, where “the netted sunbeams dance”9. We satisfied our thirst and discussed the pros and cons of lunching there, or pushing on to Annett Lake. We decided to move on. It would be another lake in the bag. What a surprise awaited us! An abrupt rock face with a falls, and just above the splashing water was the radiant ultramarine blue water of Annett Lake, bathed in sunshine and ruffled by a cold, stiff breeze. Rising directly above the lake was the desolate and formidable rocky facade of Temple Mountain. The only trees are on the opposite side of the tarn from the mountain and they are stunted and storm-swept, more like rugged little shrubs. Hastily we put on the extra sweaters we had previously removed on the hike up. It was too cold to linger long; however we determined to have lunch there, for we might never come that way again; and so, while we proceeded to open our knapsacks, our chatter ran something like this:
“Do you think there are any bears up here?”
“The trees are rather small for climbing.”
Secretly I thought of grizzlies. “Maybe the mountain goats come here to feed and drink.”
“What lovely dwarfed Indian paintbrush, so intense in color.”
“Look at those golden buttercups in the luscious green grass by the lake.”
“How do you suppose the lake got its name and who first saw it?”
“Oh, it was named by an old French or Swiss trapper for his mother.”
“What a lasting and charming tribute to one’s mother.”
It was too cold to stop long enough to paint, in fact we saved our oranges to eat in the warmth of the valley below. Annett Lake still calls over the mountains and one day I shall go back.
On the main trail again, we hastened on towards the “Horseshoe Glacier” and the Giant Steps, the final goal of our hike in Paradise Valley. Presently we saw a somewhat dishevelled man hurrying along towards us. I approached him to ask if we were anywhere near the Giant Steps. In a somewhat bewildered way he replied, “The Giant Steps? Then this must be Paradise Valley.” “Indeed it is, we have been travelling all morning from the Moraine Lake road.” He was lost. Since five in the morning he had been struggling at a break neck pace over the various mountain trails and passes, trying to find his way back to Lake Louise. He had had no lunch, so we offered him our oranges. After directing him as well as we could, we continued on our way to the head of the valley, which opened out into a great amphitheatre of mountain meadowland, surmounted by a massive shell-shaped mountain, Hungabee, which encloses the Horseshoe Glacier, an ice field of tremendous proportions. Here, too, are the Giant Steps, leading up to the ice and over, which plays a very beautiful mountain water fall.
Before returning, we each took up points of vantage and commenced our sketches. We were, though, somewhat bothered with monstrous horse flies, which are perfect demons in some parts of the mountains. It was a beautiful hike back through the valley in the late afternoon sunshine; lingering here and there, at an old kraal used by the trail riders at one time, there was an immensely interesting view of turrets on the mountain tops, some shapes reminding one of the Colossi of Memnon, in the Valley of the Kings; here again, the lovely cathedral of evergreens and again the turbulent stream which we crossed and recrossed. How glad we were to find the old car waiting by the roadside, ready to take our tired bodies back along the sunset drive to the cabin in the firs. A perfect day, long to be remembered.



Chapter VI - LAKE LOUSE - JASPER HIGHWAY

HERBERT LAKE.
The Rose of Sunset, in a shining mood,
Has paused to touch him with her fingers warm,
To weave her crimson petals in a hood
For his great head - O subtle is the charm.
Jean Blewett - Mount Cavell

LAKE LOUISE - JASPER HIGHWAY
The snows that are older than history,
The woods where the weird shadows slant;
The stillness, the moonlight, the mystery -
I’ve bade ’em good-bye –but I can’t.
Robert W. Service - The Songs of a Sourdough

The Lake Louise - Jasper Highway is one of the most fascinating drives, at all times of day, but particularly so at sunset. It is a fine, modern road, extending to the north from Lake Louise to Jasper. This highway traverses some of the finest country for mountain scenery of gargantuan proportions of anywhere in the world. To the west lies the little known Columbia ice fields. The last great stand of the ice age; a paradise for mountain climbers, geologists and all others who love the great out of doors. The rock formations are interesting for their unusual character. One mountain suggests a giant locomotive and train, another was reminiscent of the Javanese Buddhist Temple of Borobudur. Then there are others that suggested previous volcanic eruptions.
The drive into this lateral valley of the Athabasca Pass was rich in many minor attractions. There were delightful little pools of still water, which reflected perfectly the precipitous rock facades. One, in particular, interested us for its Indian character, which was the rock profile of an Indian chief which we named Nose-see-um chief, because of that very prominent feature.
At Herbert Lake, we stopped to paint the sunset effects on the snow and ice-crested peaks, which were exceedingly fine. In the tranquil waters of the lake a fish leaped. He was a beauty. Then another, but there was a sign, “No Fishing.” Presumably the lake had been recently stocked. On the somewhat boggy shores were quantities of rein lily or bog orchid, which are not unlike lilies of the valley, both in appearance and fragrance. Here too, one well remembers the mosquito, and is thankful for a bottle of “skiter Skit” or citronella, a penetrating odor, which is unpleasant to the insect.
Further along there was a fine view of Bow Lake, its pale jade-green waters backed by the magnificent Crowfoot Glacier. From certain points of vantage, it is easy to see why the glacier was named Crowfoot, for it is so like a giant crowfoot in shape.

BOW LAKE
Shoulder and shelf, green slope, and icy horn,
River ravine and splintered precipice. -
J. Innes - The Rocky Mountains

At Bow Lake we lingered a few days, staying at the lovely log ranch house of the Simpson’s, where we especially enjoyed the collection of beautiful rocky mountain animal paintings done by the skillful brush of Carl Rungius. We revelled in the glorious sunsets of Bow Lake. The lake is wonderful by moonlight too, a world of exquisite beauty and peace as God made it.
While at Bow Lake Lodge we made several hikes to the meadows, to the canyon below Bow Glacier, enjoying the flowers and trees and the fresh crisp air and taking the opportunity to make sketches of the many things which interested us. Then one day in late August we decided to climb to Dolomite Pass to look for crystals, but mostly for the hike through alpine woods to a high elevation to look across the valley to the Crowfoot Glacier. It was a wonderful experience. On the way up we crossed a number of mountain streams and passed through fragrant forests of fir; along the paths we noted many twisted and gnarled grey and silver stumps of long fallen monarchs. These were exciting to the artist because of their unexpected, sometimes grotesque patterns, Nature’s sculptures more intriguing that many modern abstracts.
About noon we were well above the thick tall evergreens. So we chose a large table like rock of grey stone to spread out our lunch and, too, to dangle our legs over the edge.
To the west the view of the Crowfoot Glacier was marvellous. At the foot of the glacier is the long arm of the jade-green waters of Bow Lake. As we studied the mountain closely we were able to pick out several smaller lakes in the mountain cirques below each claw. They were turquoise and jade similar to the larger lake below.
While at lunch we had a pleasant encounter with several Canada jays or whisky-jacks, more correctly called Wisagatchak by the Indians. These birds are camp visitors and very cheeky, always eager for food which may fall their way, even daring at times, and will take a cookie right out of one’s hand. The Wisagatchak is an absurd bird with big wings and long tail feathers in two shades of grey.
There is an Indian legend which states his tail was short, his wings small and his head much too large. The other birds laughed at him so he decided to gather feathers from the other birds to make himself large wings and tail, for the “Spring Meeting.” When he tried them on they looked, so he thought, very fine. But when he tried to fly he found them clumsy and the birds laughed still more. So he flew off to the forest and was very lonely. The kind Manitou was sorry for him but could not change his feathers. So the Manitou told the Indians to always welcome him at their camp fires.
Soon we were on our way again now well above the tree line. Somehow or other we missed the turn off for Dolomite Pass and found ourselves well on the way to Lake Helen, which was a good mile off. Noting the troubled sky we decided to turn back and return as quickly as possible to Bow Lake Lodge. We got in as the first drops of rain began to fall.
At mile twenty-six, a bit of swampy ground attracted our attention, for it was covered with numerous little blue flowers, not unlike violets only more of a periwinkle blue, so we picked our way over the tufts of grass, getting wet feet into the bargain. We collected some of the flowers so that we might identify them. Later we learned that they were butterwort, a carnivorous plant feeding upon insects. At this same spot there was a sign marked “To the Summit.” Being eager to obtain the view from a height, we hiked up to the summit over an easy sylvan path.
Beneath us lay the Mistaya Canyon,10 showing a superb panorama of some forty giant mountain peaks and tremendous ice fields, all of which was enveloped in a soft blue-rose haze, and on the evergreen floor of the valley was a chain of lakes stretching, as it were, into infinity, the foremost of which was Peyto, named for an old mountain guide and trapper, gleaming in the sun like highly polished malachite. Truly this seemed to be Nature’s crowning achievement. Little wonder that the Indians called the Rockies “The Glittering Mountains.” Having once enjoyed the rapture of discovery in the Mistaya Canyon, we made several trips there to revel in the magnificence of this glorious region. The effect was most exhilarating, especially at the hour of sunset, there to watch “the declining splendor of the day”11; to feel the mystic power of Mistaya Canyon with its Peyto Lake. Forever it lures one back with the impelling force of a great magnet.



Chapter VII - MOUNT HECTOR AND WAPTA LAKE

WOOD BALLET ALONG THE TRAIL
Follow the trails through the deep pine gloom,
The trails of romance and strife,
When the keen air whets the hunger pangs
Sharp as the hunter’s knife;
Far to the top of the lonely world
Where the banners of dawn have their lights unfurled
In beauty, splendor and life.
L. Ballantyne - Canadian Trails

MOUNT HECTOR AND WAPTA LAKE
Oh, I have drained the cups of ecstasy;
At eventide upon a high-faned hill
Where I have watched God’s sunsets spill
Apocalyptic splendours to infinity:
John D. Logan - The Flute of God

Often, of an evening, we took Charlotte, our pet name for the little old car, and drove along the famous sunset drive, which had become a favorite with us. One of the greatest finds of the season was the sunlit peak of Mount Hector at sunset, mirrored in its golden and rose beauty in a little marsh called Sink Lake, bordered by tall grasses and fir trees. Here we spent many happy hours sketching and absorbing the celestial beauty of the spectacular painting of Nature’s unerring brush. Here too, we found a wealth of alpine flowers, Indian paintbrush, mountain asters and fireweed. Also, we took a great delight in gathering the wild strawberries which abound in this vicinity.
The glad, glad days and the pleasant ways,
Chorus of wild birds calling:
Strawberry ripe! Ho! Strawberry ripe!
From dawn till the dew is falling.
J. Blewett

A little beyond Sink Lake, about six miles west of Lake Louise and fourteen miles east of Field, is the Great Divide - the back bone of the continent. The elevation is some 5,338 feet above sea level, and is the point at which the water shed divides, part flowing east to Hudson’s Bay and the Atlantic, and the other part flowing west to the Pacific Ocean. It is also the dividing line between the provinces of Alberta and British Columbia. This spot is appropriately marked by a rustic arch and also by a granite shaft, erected to the memory of Sir James Hector, the discoverer of the Kicking Horse Pass. Some miles further along, we discovered Lake Wapta and found that our beloved Mount Hector was also mirrored in its quiet depths. Here, too, was a fine painting spot and one of much historical interest, for here, at Wapta Falls which enter the lake, is the place which gave the name to the Kicking Horse Pass.
When Dr. Hector, later Sir James Hector, was sent out to discover a suitable pass for the railway, it was at this particular spot that his irritable horse, possibly so from lack of food, became frightened near the falls and kicked Dr. Hector, knocking him unconscious for a time. His men thought at first he was dead. So this is the story back of the name “The Kicking Horse Pass,” and not the imaginary rock form of a kicking horse, which some porters like to point out from the railway carriage. Another, and more recent story, concerning Wapta Falls, tells of two girl travellers who for the first time were visiting the Rockies and were thrilled to see the great snow fields. They were passing fairly near the falls when one remarked, “Oh, look at the snow, it is so close to us.” “Yes,” replied the other, “but look, it’s moving.”
Occasionally, one sees black bear on the highway as well as around the hotel dump. While there is little danger of them molesting one, it is as well not to encourage their approach by offering food. They soon learn to be very bold and quite demanding.
Besides Mount Hector, there were a number of other fine views to intrigue the artist. In fact there is plenty of material to keep one busy for a long time.
Wapiti, an Indian name for elk, which, by the way, are plentiful in the National Rocky Mountain Park12, is also the place name given to Wapta Lake, falls and the lodge. Wapta Lodge is one of the most delightful spots to spend a few days or longer. It makes excellent headquarters for sallies out to Sherbrooke Lake, Emerald Lake and also Lake O’Hara, as well as to the Yoho Valley. Also it is a particularly fine spot for horseback riding, boating and fishing. Besides the lodge are a number of small individual log cabins by the lake, which are very pleasant quarters for sleeping and relaxing. The lodge proper contains the lounge and dining room, which boasts a superior cuisine. Such good cooking - of the kind one enjoys at home. Here, a thoughtful and charming hostess creates an atmosphere of friendliness, of peace and beauty. It would be quite impossible to forget the exquisite bouquets of native flowers which adorn the lounge and dining room - those luscious buttercups in all their waxy golden beauty, and later, the bouquets of handsome Sally, commonly called fireweed.
Many happy summer evenings are spent through the years by mountain lovers in front of the massive stone fireplace at Wapta. Evenings long to be remembered for their charm of song and story. To the artist and nature lover, other attractions at the lodge are the very fine original portrait paintings of Indians by Langdon Kihn, famous for his paintings of native types; and the cosy little library which contains, among other fine books, books by Julia Henshaw with fine photographs of the flora of the mountains.



Chapter VIII - EMERALD LAKE AND MOUNT BURGESS

EMERALD LAKE AND MOUNT BURGESS
Far in the hills the Green Loch lies,
Its constant emerald mocks at the skies;
Rose Fyleman - The Green Loch

EMERALD LAKE AND MOUNT BURGESS
Whate’er thy mood, O dream-kissed mountain lake;
It lingers still, my inmost self replies,
But where’s the song that plumbs the depth of thought?
Amy Redpath Roddick

The end comes to this part of our summer’s idyll. My artist friends were leaving with their car for their home in the sunny Okanagan Valley, but before going we decided to have one more glorious day together, so we motored to Emerald Lake from Wapta Lodge.
It was a pleasant drive to Field by the Kicking Horse River. Upon almost arriving at Field, we heard a sound like blasting in the mountains. At the time we remarked that it sounded a little too close to be safe. Later we learned that a great shelf of ice from a glacier above Field had broken away and careened down the mountain slope, carrying an avalanche of rocks and debris before it.
A short distance beyond Field, on the main highway, a branch road extends north through lovely wooded glades to Emerald Lake. It was pleasant motoring through the sun-splashed forest. There was not the slightest hint of a lake beyond, when suddenly an opening in the forest revealed Emerald Lake. What a joy to see its sparkling blue-green waters through the trees - surrounded by mountains. Our old friend, Tom Wilson, discovered and named this lake, which has somehow managed to keep its name. While the water is decidedly green, of the copper oxide variety, it varies with every little breeze and passing cloud. Sometimes it is beautifully patterned, with splashes of turquoise and amethyst, with red-rose reflections from rocks and trees on the shore. The most commanding view is the one looking towards the south with Mount Burgess in the background. Mount Burgess is of a distinctive character, showing two rugged peaks with intervening snow fields. The mountain is treed only for a short distance.
While it was not an ideal day for sketching, I managed, between showers, to get a fine expression of Emerald Lake. It was on this particular day that I got my paints thoroughly wet. Before I realized what was happening, I had discolored my clothes with quantities of cadmium yellow and alizarin, while hurrying to a place of shelter under a fir tree. But then that is all in an artist’s day.
Emerald Lake, although the day was showery, presented an interesting mood of misty loveliness, which diffused the colors, making for a soft and delicate coloring, not unlike the mellow glow of a Corot, or a Whistler.
At Emerald Lake is a pleasant Swiss-like Chalet, with delightful individual log cabins for guests. These cabins look particularly inviting with their window boxes full of flowers, nasturtiums and petunias mainly, and the neat little piles of freshly cut pine logs for the fires - all of which smelt so very good.
We enjoyed tea and cakes by the lake, and thrilled to see the trout splashing and jumping out of the shining waters. Oh, for a fishing line.
More fortunate weather for painting at Emerald Lake happened on several later visits there.
Back at Wapta, in the late afternoon, we had just nice time to get ready for dinner, and too, to linger a little over the sunset effects on Mount Hector.
We dined at leisure and then repaired to the old stone fireplace for a long chat - for on the morrow our paths would part - westward to the Selkirks and home, for my friends, and for me, southward to O’Hara.



Chapter IX - LAKE O’HARA AND LAKE McARTHUR

LAKE O’HARA WITH CATHEDRAL MOUNTAIN
Sprung from great nature’s royal lines,
They share her deep repose, -
Their rugged shoulders robed in pines
Their foreheads crowned with snows.
F.G. Scott - The Storm

LAKE O’HARA AND LAKE McARTHUR
The winds are drunk with freedom - the crowded valleys roar;
The madness surges through their veins, and when they gallop out
The black rain follows close behind, the pale sun flees before.
Lloyd Roberts - The Madness of Winds


To my chagrin, I found myself somewhat of a spectacle with my paint besmeared clothes as I wandered down to the kraal for the mountain cayuse which was to take me and my modest painting equipment to Lake O’Hara.
The morning was none too promising. The skies were threatening and one doubted the advisability of starting out on an eight mile trip along Cataract Brook to Lake O’Hara. However, eagerness to be on the trail over-ruled common sense, so away I went, happy as a lark, hoping that the clouds would blow over and that the little patch of blue showing through would increase in size. But, alas, I had not more than rounded the west end of Lake Wapta, crossed the railroad tracks and headed nicely up the ridge leading into the upper valley when it began to rain quite heavily, and then began to hail. I hesitated and then rode slowly along the ridge, still in view of Wapta Lodge across the lake. Should I go on or turn back? Finally an unusually vivid flash of lightning and a terrific peal of thunder decided the issue and I headed for Wapta in a hurry. In that mile and a half I was soaked to the skin and very glad of dry clothing, and of the cup of steaming coffee which was prepared for me almost as soon as I had arrived.
The following day was a little more promising, but not ideal. The clouds were still heavy and mists obscured the mountain tops. However, with a faster pony, and hoping for the best, I started out.
It was a pleasant ride through a beautifully wooded valley past Narao Lake and along by Cataract Brook. The mountains on either side were somewhat foreboding in the mist, with occasionally a sinister tower or peak showing through an opening in the clouds. I must confess it was a lonely trip, and sometimes one wondered if there were any bears about. Other than a few horses browsing in a meadow, any wild life kept out of sight.
About three miles from Lake O’Hara, the storm broke. It was almost terrifying in its ruthlessness, trees crashing in the wind, lightning flashing, thunder roaring through the mountains and the rain coming down in sheets, so that the trail became a running stream. By now, my pony and I had reached a fair height of land, which was disconcerting. The pony was nervous and so was I. After each vivid flash of lightning, I tried to gauge the nearness of the storm by the time space between the flash and the thunder. This is difficult to tell, because of the echo in the mountains. No doubt storms sound much worse in the mountains than they really are. Be that as it may I finally dismounted believing that on foot I would be safer than on the pony’s back, and led my pony in to O’Hara some two and a half miles distant. Again, within two days I presented myself wet through to a new hostess. Hot tea and dry clothes soon restored my spirits and with the first clearing of the clouds, I made my first sketch of beautiful Lake O’Hara from the Chalet Gallery.
The evening was spent in front of the open fire chatting with other mountain lovers. Each had his story to tell, maps too were studied, for the terrain around O’Hara is full of interest.
Wiwaxy Mountain to the left of the Chalet intrigued me. What did the name mean and was there any special interest there? Yes, Wiwaxy means windy and is a favorite haunt of mountain goats. Although I looked long and often I failed to see a goat.
The following morning fortune smiled. It was a glorious sunlit day, so after an early breakfast I set out on foot with a small lunch in a knapsack along with a few colors and brushes, my first destination being Lake McArthur.
The trail wound back along Lake O’Hara and zigzagged up through rich balsam and fir forests towards Mount Odaray and then swung south around Mount Schaffer with Park Mountain on the right. What a trail! It was rough, steep and lonely. The higher one got, the more rugged and desolate the country. The hoary marmots whistled notes of warning to one another as I passed along. Sometimes they stand like sentinels on or under a grey rock shelf and eye one with mild curiosity. They are very like a ground hog in appearance. Some city visitors, in the mountains for the first time, mistook the shrill whistle of the marmot for a police call and thought the mountains were well policed. This whistle of the marmot is their warning signal to one another that something foreign is approaching.
Occasionally one came upon be-flowered meadows and valleys with lovely lacy larch, tall and stately, like guardians of the pass. The mountains, bathed in morning sunlight, were magnificent. I shall never forget their massive towers and buttresses, like great citadels reaching the sky. One longed to stop and sketch all the time. But one must push on, for McArthur was still a long way off.
At last I rounded the last turn, and found myself at the opening of a small, barren, treeless valley. Only a little grass and a few mountain flowers grew there and occasionally a stunted juniper could be seen. Mount Biddle and Schaffer towered above the landscape. One more rise of smooth rocks brought one in view of Lake McArthur. The opalescent hues of turquoise and green-blue, splashed with rose and amethyst, vied for place on the sparkling waters of McArthur, which rested at the foot of a great ice field, nestled in a shell-like formation of mountain, not unlike a gargantuan outdoor concert shell. But here wind, storm and sunshine were the musicians which played upon the lake. Only two weeks before, and this was mid-August, the last of the ice had left the lake, for Spring comes late to McArthur.
Here the mountain storms are born amid the eternal snows and rock escarpments. The air was more than bracing, chill, with the cold of recent ice. After concocting a crude easel with a few rocks, I commenced to sketch. It was not long before several chipmunks appeared. They possess an insatiable amount of curiosity, and seemed determined to explore the contents of my knapsack. From previous experience, I rescued my lunch and held it in my lap where I could watch over it more closely.
After an hour’s sketching, my fingers were numb with cold, although I had pulled on some fingerless angora gloves for added protection. I decided to stop and have lunch. Since I never carry much on the long hike, I soon finished my bread and butter and orange. Oh, for a hot drink that day!
A foreign sound! What ho! Visitors to this out post! Just over the rise of ground appeared a small cavalcade. It was good to see horses and men again. It was pleasant to chat a bit with these new found friends who happened to be from Winnipeg. They were enjoying a trip through the mountains by pack train and had then been out some three weeks. Their adventures had been varied and interesting. They had experienced rain and snow and considerable bad weather, but that had mattered little, they were enjoying the finest kind of holiday.

LAKE McARTHUR
Only the mountains rear their forms,
Silent and grim and bold;
To them the voices of the storms
Are as a tale re-told.
F.G. Scott - The Storm

One of the party was a skilled photographer and was soon busy taking photographs of McArthur. Almost immediately, the Italian cook had a small fire underway. I am still puzzled as to where he found sufficient twigs to make the fire. Soon a hot pot of tea was ready, and I was invited to have some; never was tea more welcome.
It was a surprise to see ptarmigan here, hitherto I had believed their habitat to be much further north. The ptarmigan is a bird of the grouse family. It is of black or grey plumage in the summer and white in the winter.
Loath to leave McArthur, I lingered on a little, but finally I shouldered my small pack and started the descent over the smooth rocks where the glaciers of the past had rubbed them down almost to a polished surface. Further along were the horses of the pack train contentedly browsing on the grassy slopes.
Suddenly the remarkable play of sunlight and shadow on the shoulders and peak of Park Mountain impelled me to stop for a quick sketch. Perched somewhat precariously on an angular grey lichen-covered rock, one of many in a rock slide, I made a study of this interesting display of color.
Continuing on through a rugged valley of alpine loveliness and plumy larch, I came out again where the trail branches for Mount Odaray Plateau and O’Hara. The afternoon being young I decided in favor of Odaray. It was an easy but steady climb, the trail winding up in hair-pin curves to the plateau above. It was well worth the extra climb to have the aerial view of Lake O’Hara below, cradled, as in an emerald chalice of spruce and fir, surmounted with rose, mauve and bronze mountain ridges studded with glacial fields. Again the urge to sketch assailed me, but first I must continue on to the look-out point. Soon I found myself close upon the rust colored shoulder of Mount Odaray, with only small tree poles every hundred yards to mark the path across the plateau.
When the look-out was reached, what a commanding view one had of this panorama, this magnificent sea of mountains and valleys where the rivers looked like ribbons of silver in a vast carpet of green plush. And at such a height to really see the sky again - the great clouds rolling up like nebulous creatures of some fairy world - shall I ever forget?
A glance westward warned me that a storm was brewing, and consulting my watch, I realized that it was late and that if I would get to O’Hara by early dusk, I must hurry. So, with a farewell look from Odaray, and a promise to come back again some day, I hastened over the uneven ground of the plateau and began the descent to O’Hara. Ah, but the view of O’Hara; one must stop a moment for color notes.
The descent was made with some difficulty, and before reaching the Chalet, I had experienced mist, sleet and rain, and again heard the warning whistles of the hoary marmots, none too pleasant under these stormy circumstances.
The weather for the next few days was like shot silk, sometimes bright, sometimes dull, constantly changing. While not wholly satisfactory for the artist, nevertheless I managed to get a few more sketches of Lake O’Hara from various angles and in different moods.
With sunset on Cathedral Mountain, and Lake O’Hara in the foreground, there is an expression of theatrical grandeur in the lavish display of color. The fringe of sombre forest cast interesting patterns of dark blue-green on the placid waters of O’Hara, which was of a robin’s egg blue. The towering flanks and peak of Cathedral Mountain, bathed in mauves and sapphire, was just touched with the color of molten gold.
Another favorite view of Lake O’Hara is the one looking towards the Seven Veils Falls, where the mountains Biddle, Yukness and Huber, with their everlasting snows, rise above the lake. The formation is similar to Lake Louise. It is a fairly even draw as to which is the more beautiful. Also, on Lake O’Hara one observes the diorama of color which might well rival the gems of Aladdin’s cave.
There are many pleasant paths in the vicinity of Lake O’Hara. One of the most interesting is the one to Lake Oesa, which skirts Lake O’Hara and rises over the rocks above the Seven Veils Falls to the lake. That charming tarn, in its rugged rock chalice, nestles near the base of the glaciers which feed both lakes and the Seven Veils Falls .
The weather being considerable improved, the trail ride out from Lake O’Hara was very agreeable. The trail was lonely but fraught with pleasant memories. Suddenly my pony whinnied, and soon I found myself included in a mountain pack train. It was the same train which happened along at Lake McArthur. Having left the guests at O’Hara, the guide and cook were coming out with the train of ponies, loaded with a great array of camping paraphernalia, and looking not unlike an eastern caravan. So for a few miles out to Wapta, I imagined myself a princess travelling in state to a neighboring kingdom.



Chapter X - OESA AND OPABIN

LAKE OESA
From your high dwelling in the realms of snow
And cloud, where many an avalanche’s fall
Is heard resounding from the mountain’s brow.
Ruskin

OESA AND OPABIN
But every whisp’ring zephyr seems here to breath a song.
Author unknown

Above Lake O’Hara is a little lake called Oesa which had great fascination for us; Oesa is Stoney Indian for “ice.” This lake is about one thousand feet above Lake O’Hara. The trail follows along the shore of Lake O’Hara to the Seven Veils Falls, where it becomes quite rugged and steep as it follows the falls up through the scented fir and balsam forest. Some distance above the falls there are flowered meadows and storm-swept trees of amazing character and pattern. Here, too, are little unnamed lakes bounded by walls of grey limestone with here and there mountain plants growing in a crevice and plumy larch and stunted and twisted fir and balsam suggesting the planned beauty of an Oriental garden with a mountain tarn of exquisite color and charm.
Here we stopped for a picnic lunch, drinking water from a clear as crystal stream. Soon we pushed on above the timber line, eventually coming to a steep rock face of approximately fifteen feet high. The only way to go beyond it to Oesa was by way of a crude ladder of barkless tree trunk with branches about a foot or less in length, providing the rungs by which we mounted. It took courage to make this climb since we were foolishly carrying large heavy paint boxes on our backs. However we made it with one near mishap, which might have ended in disaster for that summer. A few years later we were delighted to find rock steps carved in the rock barrier.
Over the ledge we found ourselves in a land of desolation, only a chaos of rough rocks and ridges to walk over, with here and there a small rock cairn to guide the way.
Looking back was a magnificent panorama of Lake O’Hara and the surrounding peaks. The sky was overcast so we made our way towards Oesa.
Soon Ringrose Mountain and Glacier loomed in view and then the jade and turquoise waters of Oesa, a little lake high among the rocks, a lake in a mountain cirque.
To paint Oesa was a real challenge which, as we worked, grew more exciting wi

© 2007, Moose Jaw Art Museum Incorporated/Moose Jaw Museum & Art Gallery. All Rights Reserved.

CHRONOLOGY
 
1894
Born Ellen Vaughan Kirk Grayson on September 14 on the family farm near Moose Jaw, NWT

1901-04
Her father was an Alderman

1900-07
Her father served as Moose Jaw’s first Postmaster

1909
Went on vacation to Banff with her family

1918
Worked as a volunteer nursing aide during the 1918 flu epidemic

Travelled with her cousin, Kirk Grayson, to Europe, South America, and Africa

Attended the Curry School of Expression in Boston, MA, received General Cultural Diploma

Studied art in England

Attended St. Margaret’s College, Toronto, ON, with Marion Long

Attended art school in Budapest under C. Kiruly

c. 1922
Appointed Art Supervisor for Moose Jaw Public Schools

1923
Graduated from Teacher’s College at Columbia University, New York City, NY, with a Bachelor of Science and a professional certificat Read More

CHRONOLOGY
 
1894
Born Ellen Vaughan Kirk Grayson on September 14 on the family farm near Moose Jaw, NWT

1901-04

Her father was an Alderman

1900-07

Her father served as Moose Jaw’s first Postmaster

1909

Went on vacation to Banff with her family

1918

Worked as a volunteer nursing aide during the 1918 flu epidemic

Travelled with her cousin, Kirk Grayson, to Europe, South America, and Africa

Attended the Curry School of Expression in Boston, MA, received General Cultural Diploma

Studied art in England

Attended St. Margaret’s College, Toronto, ON, with Marion Long

Attended art school in Budapest under C. Kiruly

c. 1922

Appointed Art Supervisor for Moose Jaw Public Schools

1923

Graduated from Teacher’s College at Columbia University, New York City, NY, with a Bachelor of Science and a professional certificate in Fine Arts

1923-30

Taught art at the Teacher’s College in Regina, SK

1926

Participated in the Canadian Alpine Club of Canada annual camp from July 26 to August 7, in the Tonquin Pass

1928

Participated in the Canadian Alpine Club of Canada summer camp at the Lake of the Hanging Glaciers

1929

Served as President of the Women’s Art Association, Moose Jaw, SK

Employed as Director of Art at the Moose Jaw Normal School (teacher’s college)

Married Arthur J. Mann and moved to the Okanagan Valley

Published Picture Appreciation for the Elementary School: Grades I to VI  (J.M.Dent and Sons, Toronto)

1930

Taught art for the University of British Columbia Extension Department

1930s

Participated in group exhibitions at the Penticton Museum, Kelowna Public Library and the Vernon Public Library

1932

Published Picture Appreciation for the High School: Grades VII to X (J.M. Dent and Sons, Toronto)

Invited to lecture on Canadian Art to the Moose Jaw Women’s Arts and Crafts Association

1937

Published revised edition Picture Appreciation for the Elementary Grades (J.M. Dent and Sons, Toronto)

1940

Participated in group exhibition at the Canadian National Exhibition, Toronto, ON, entitled Contemporary Art of Canada and Newfoundland

1942

Her painting, "Mount Rundle", included in the 11th Annual British Columbia Exhibition, Vancouver Art Gallery, Vancouver, BC

Visitors to the 11th Annual British Columbia Exhibition voted "Mount Rundle" the third most popular piece in the exhibition of 133 works

1943

Participated in the 12th Annual British Columbia Exhibition,Vancouver Art Gallery, Vancouver, BC

Led sketching classes into the mountains for the Banff School of Fine Arts with Janet (Holly) Middleton and spent a weekend in the mountains sketching and hiking with A.Y. Jackson and others

1944

Her painting, "Mirror Lake", included in the 13th Annual British Columbia Exhibition, Vancouver Art Gallery, Vancouver, BC

1945

Her painting, "Confluence of Bow and Spray Rivers, Banff", included in the 14th Annual British Columbia Exhibition, Vancouver Art Gallery, Vancouver, BC

Solo exhibition at the Red Cross shop in Summerland, BC

1946

Two oil paintings, including Yellow Pine, included in a travelling exhibition of Okanagan artists organized by the Vancouver Art Gallery and toured throughout British Columbia

1951

Exhibited three silkscreen prints, including "Rattlesnake Point, Kalamalka Lake, B.C.", at the Edmonton Museum of Arts in an exhibition exclusively dedicated to serigraphs

Travelled to the Jasper area in the summer and went on a guided two-day riding trip through the Shovel Pass accompanied by her friend, Mrs. Foley-Bennett of Penticton, BC

1952

Participated in the 21st Annual British Columbia Exhibition, Vancouver Art Gallery, Vancouver, BC

Travelled to Mt. Assiniboine on horseback

1954

Exhibited a silkscreen print in the Second Annual Moose Jaw Fine Art Guild Exhibition held at the YMCA, Moose Jaw, SK

Exhibited "Kootenay Lakes, B.C.", silkscreen print in the National Serigraph Society Exhibition in New York City, NY

1957

Participated in group exhibition of the National Serigraph Society, New York City, NY

Solo exhibition at the Moose Jaw Museum, Moose Jaw, SK

1958

Invited to be guest speaker at the annual dinner of the Moose Jaw Fine Art Guild,  Moose Jaw, SK

1959

Participated in group exhibition of the Canadian Painter-Etchers and Engravers in Toronto, ON

Solo exhibition at the Okanagan Regional Library in Kelowna, BC

1960

Sponsored the Mrs. A.J. Mann Scholarship for tuition to the Okanagan Summer School of Fine Arts

1960-61

Included in a travelling exhibition organized by the Nelson School of Fine Arts that included work by four artists from the interior of British Columbia: Mary Bull, Alec Garner, Bettina Sommers and Vaughan Grayson

1961

Travelled to Mexico in February and took a painting class at the Instituto Allende in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, with Fred Samuelson

Taught at the Okanagan Summer School of the Arts from July 10 to 19 in Penticton, BC

1967

Solo exhibition at the Moose Jaw Art Museum and National Exhibition Centre, Moose Jaw, SK

Studied Chinese brush technique under Stephen Lowe in Victoria, BC

1968

Travelled to Mexico

1969

Travelled to Japan

1970

Travelled to Alaska

1979

Solo exhibition at the Moose Jaw Art Museum and National Exhibition Centre, Moose Jaw, SK

1980

Solo exhibition at the Allie Griffin Art Gallery, Weyburn, SK

1981

Work included in Society of Canadian Painter-Etchers and Engravers - In Retrospect exhibition at the Art Gallery of Hamilton, Hamilton, ON

1985

Solo exhibition entitled, Ellen Vaughan Grayson: a Retrospective, Kelowna Art Gallery, Kelowna, BC

1995

Died in Moose Jaw, SK, on February 8


© 2007, Moose Jaw Art Museum Incorporated/Moose Jaw Museum & Art Gallery. All Rights Reserved.

“The University Women’s Club Annual Dinner.” Moose Jaw Evening Times 29 June 1918.

“Book on Art is by Vaughn (sic) Grayson.” The Leader [Regina] 7 Oct. 1929.

“An Authoritative Work on Art by Miss E. V. Grayson.” Moose Jaw Times 9 Nov. 1929.

“Canadian Art Topic of Talk.” Moose Jaw Times 19 Jan. 1932.

“B. C. Artist Evading War’s Responsibility.” Vancouver Sun 26 Sept. 1942.

“Valley Artists Lauded At B.C. Exhibition.” Penticton Herald 1 Oct. 1942.

Valley Thornton, Mildred. “Myfanwy Campbell’s Painting Winner of Art Gallery Poll.” Vancouver Sun 14 Oct. 1942.

Palette. “Colorful Display Presented in Exhibition by B. C. Artists.” Vancouver Province 26 Sept. 1942.

“Brilliant Oil Paintings at Summerland.” Penticton Herald 12 July 1945.

Tinning, R. J. “Okanagan Art Show Draws Wide Comment.” Penticton Herald 2 May 1946.

Norbury, F. H. &ldquo Read More
“The University Women’s Club Annual Dinner.” Moose Jaw Evening Times 29 June 1918.

“Book on Art is by Vaughn (sic) Grayson.” The Leader [Regina] 7 Oct. 1929.

“An Authoritative Work on Art by Miss E. V. Grayson.” Moose Jaw Times 9 Nov. 1929.

“Canadian Art Topic of Talk.” Moose Jaw Times 19 Jan. 1932.

“B. C. Artist Evading War’s Responsibility.” Vancouver Sun 26 Sept. 1942.

“Valley Artists Lauded At B.C. Exhibition.” Penticton Herald 1 Oct. 1942.

Valley Thornton, Mildred. “Myfanwy Campbell’s Painting Winner of Art Gallery Poll.” Vancouver Sun 14 Oct. 1942.

Palette. “Colorful Display Presented in Exhibition by B. C. Artists.” Vancouver Province 26 Sept. 1942.

“Brilliant Oil Paintings at Summerland.” Penticton Herald 12 July 1945.

Tinning, R. J. “Okanagan Art Show Draws Wide Comment.” Penticton Herald 2 May 1946.

Norbury, F. H. “Museum of Arts Has New Exhibits.” Edmonton Journal 24 Apr. 1951.

“Mrs. Mann Tells of Mountain Trip.” Summerland Review 27 Dec. 1951.

“Mrs. A. J. Mann Tells WI of Scenic Trip to Mt. Assiniboine.” Summerland Review  22 Jan. 1953.

“Painting Selected.” The Leader [Regina] 26 Mar.1954.

“Provincial President Exhibits Painting at Art Guild Show.” Moose Jaw Times-Herald
31 Mar. 1954: 7.

“Well-Known Artist Prepares for Exhibit.” Moose Jaw Times-Herald 21 Feb.1957: 7.

“Mrs. Arthur Slade is President of Moose Jaw Fine Art Guild.” Moose Jaw Times-Herald 4 Feb. 1958: 5.

“Board Room Display by Vaughan Grayson.” Daily Courier [Kelowna] 29 Sep. 1959.

“An Exhibition.” Daily Courier [Kelowna] 2 Oct. 1959.

“One-Man Art Show in Kel’na.” Penticton Herald 5 Oct. 1959.

“Finds Valley.” Daily Courier [Kelowna] 14 Oct. 1959: 3.

“Artist Finds Peace in Okanagan Home.” Daily Courier [Kelowna] 16 Oct. 1959.

“Lecture and Painting Demonstration Highlight Evening For Fine Art Guild.” Moose Jaw Times-Herald 3 Feb. 1960: 6.

“First Arts School Course Awarded.” Penticton Herald 6 June 1960.

“Rockies Favorite of Okanagan Artist.” Nelson News 28 Sep. 1960.

“Oyama Artist Accepts Post.” Penticton Herald 5 July 1961.

“Oyama Artist One Of Best On Prairies.” Kelowna Courier 11 Oct. 1961.

“M.J. Artist Displaying Paintings at Art Museum.” Moose Jaw Times-Herald
26 Nov. 1979:3.

“Museum Features Two Sask. Artists.” Moose Jaw Times-Herald 13 Nov. 1979: 13.

“Moose Jaw Artist Featured.” Regina Leader-Post 9 Feb. 1980.

“Women’s Group Disbands.” Moose Jaw Times-Herald 18 Aug. 1984: 3.

“Painting Donated to Art Museum.” Moose Jaw Shopper 29 Aug. 1984.

Brennan, Maev. “Grayson-Mann Display at Gallery.” Kelowna Courier 20 Apr. 1985.

“Artist Participates in 75th Anniversary.” Moose Jaw Times-Herald 8 Oct. 1985: 6.

“Death Notices - Mann: Mrs. Vaughan Grayson Mann.” Moose Jaw Times-Herald
10 Feb. 1995.


© 2007, Moose Jaw Art Museum Incorporated/Moose Jaw Museum & Art Gallery. All Rights Reserved.

Books Published by the Artist

Grayson, E[llen] V[aughan] K[irk]. Picture Appreciation for the Elementary School
Grades I to VI. Toronto: J.M. Dent and Sons Ltd., 1929.

Grayson E. V. K. Picture Appreciation for the High School Grades. Toronto: J.M. Dent
and Sons Ltd., 1932.

Grayson E. V. K. Picture Appreciation for the Elementary Grades. Rev. ed. Toronto: J.M. Dent and Sons Ltd., 1937.
Books Published by the Artist

Grayson, E[llen] V[aughan] K[irk]. Picture Appreciation for the Elementary School
Grades I to VI.
Toronto: J.M. Dent and Sons Ltd., 1929.

Grayson E. V. K. Picture Appreciation for the High School Grades. Toronto: J.M. Dent
and Sons Ltd., 1932.

Grayson E. V. K. Picture Appreciation for the Elementary Grades. Rev. ed. Toronto: J.M. Dent and Sons Ltd., 1937.

© 2007, Moose Jaw Art Museum Incorporated/Moose Jaw Museum & Art Gallery. All Rights Reserved.

WEBSITES

Women Artists (Canadian)

http://www.collectionscanada.ca/women/002026-500-e.html
This Website from the National Library of Canada has biographies highlighting the achievements of 23 women artists in Canada. These artists have worked in a range of media over the last 150 years. Some are less known; others have national and international reputations.

http://www.bcarchives.gov.bc.ca/exhibits/timemach/galler10/frames/index.htm
This Website contains material about Emily Carr designed by the B.C. Archives for use by Grade 11 students.

particle.physics.ucdavis.edu/Canadians/
This Website contains links to material about Emily Carr.


Women Artists (International)

www.distinguishedwomen.com/subject/art.html
This Website provides links to materi Read More

WEBSITES

Women Artists (Canadian)

http://www.collectionscanada.ca/women/002026-500-e.html
This Website from the National Library of Canada has biographies highlighting the achievements of 23 women artists in Canada. These artists have worked in a range of media over the last 150 years. Some are less known; others have national and international reputations.

http://www.bcarchives.gov.bc.ca/exhibits/timemach/galler10/frames/index.htm
This Website contains material about Emily Carr designed by the B.C. Archives for use by Grade 11 students.

particle.physics.ucdavis.edu/Canadians/
This Website contains links to material about Emily Carr.


Women Artists (International)

www.distinguishedwomen.com/subject/art.html
This Website provides links to materials on women artists from historical to present day from all over the world.

Bibliography of Material on Women Artists in Canada

Agnes Etherington Art Centre. -- From women's eyes : women painters in Canada : Agnes Etherington Art Centre, Queen's University, Kingston, 12 Dec. 1975 to 1 Feb. 1976. -- Dorothy Farr and Natalie Luckyj. -- Kingston [Ont.] : The Art Centre, c1975. -- 81 p.

Canadian Library Association. -- Canadian biographies : artists, authors and musicians. -- [Ottawa : s.n.], 1952. -- [374] p.

Contemporary Canadian artists. -- Toronto: Gale Canada, c1997. -- 627 p. -- Also available online as part of : CPI.Q

Les femmes artistes du Canada = Women artists in Canada [online]. -- Pham Van Khanh, c2000. -- [Cited May 30, 2002]. -- Access: http://epe.lac bac.gc.ca/100/205/301/ic/cdc/waic/index.html

Graham, Mayo. -- Some Canadian women artists = Quelques artistes canadiennes. -- Ottawa : National Gallery of Canada, 1975. -- 112 p.

Inuit women artists : voices from Cape Dorset. -- Edited by Odette Leroux, Marion E. Jackson, and Minnie Aodla Freeman. -- 1st pbk ed. -- San Francisco : Chronicle Books, 1996, c1994. -- 253 p. -- Also published in French, entitled Femmes artistes inuit : échoes de Cape Dorset

Lambton, Gunda. -- Stealing the show : seven women artists in Canadian public art. -- Montreal : McGill-Queen's University Press, 1994. -- 215 p.

LeBourhis, Jean Paul. -- Cinquante artistes de chez-nous. -- Préface d'André Bachand. -- Montréal : Galerie d'art Les Deux B, c1983. -- 357 p.

Luckyj, Natalie. -- Visions and victories : 10 Canadian women artists 1914-1945. -- London, [Ont.] : London Regional Art Gallery, [1983]. -- 112 p. -- Also published in French, entitled Visions et triomphes : les oeuvres de dix artistes canadiennes, 1914-1945

Lugus, Merike ; Anderson, Rod. -- Canadian artists on the web. [online]. -- Northumberland Hills, Cobourg, Ontario, 1995-2002. -- [Cited May 30, 2002]. -- Access: http://www.distinguishedwomen.com/subject/art.html

MacDonald, Colin S. -- A dictionary of Canadian artists. -- 3rd ed. -- Ottawa : Canadian paperbacks pub., 1975, c. 1967- . -- 7 vols. -- (2427 p.). -- Vol. 1, A-F, was revised and expanded in its fifth ed., 1997. Vol. 7 is a first ed., 1990

McKendry, Blake. -- The new a to z of Canadian art. -- Kingston, Ont. : B. McKendry, c2001. -- 399 p.

McMann, Evelyn de Rostaing. -- Royal Canadian Academy of Arts / Académie royale des arts du Canada : exhibitions and members, 1880-1979. -- Toronto : University of Toronto Press, c1981. -- 451 p.

Meadowcroft, Barbara. -- Painting friends : the Beaver Hall women painters. -- Montreal : Véhicule Press, c1999. -- 240 p.

National Gallery of Canada. -- Artists in Canada [online]. -- [Cited May 30, 2002]. -- Access: www.chin.gc.ca/English/Reference_Library/Aich/index.html. -- Also published in French, entitled Artistes au Canada

____. -- Canadian art. -- Ottawa : National Gallery of Canada, 1988- . -- 2 vols. -- (414 ; 401 p.). -- Also published in French, entitled Art canadien

____. -- Cybermuse [online]. -- The National Gallery of Canada, 2000. -- [Cited May 30, 2002]. -- Available in English and French. -- Access: http://cybermuse.gallery.ca

Newlands, Anne. -- Canadian art : from its beginnings to 2000. -- Willowdale, Ont. : Firefly Books, 2000. -- 355 p.

North American women artists of the twentieth century : a biographical dictionary. -- Edited by Jules Heller and Nancy G. Heller. -- New York : Garland, 1995. -- 612 p.

The Saskatoon Women's Calendar Collective. -- Herstory : an exhibition : arts & gallery [online]. -- Digital Collections : Schoolnet [1998]. -- [Cited May 30, 2002]. -- Also available in French. -- Access: http://library2.usask.ca/herstory/

Smart, Patricia. -- Les femmes du Refus global. -- Montréal : Boréal, 1998. -- 334 p.

Tippett, Maria. -- By a lady : celebrating three centuries of art by Canadian women. -- Toronto : Viking, 1992. -- 226 p.

Williams, Cam. -- Women in history [online]. -- Last Revised March 12, 2000. -- [Cited May 30, 2002]. -- Access: www.niagara.com/~merrwill/


Other Lists and Links

http://www.fineart.utoronto.ca/misc/sites.htm
List of art related Websites compiled by the University of Toronto Art History and Fine Art Department




© 2007, Moose Jaw Art Museum Incorporated/Moose Jaw Museum & Art Gallery. All Rights Reserved.

Learning Objectives

To understand the contributions of the arts and artist to societies and cultures, past and present.

To learn about the work of a woman artist from western Canada.


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