In the fall of 2011 I was invited to give a week long workshop for students at the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design. I arrived in Halifax at midnight, weary after a series of long flights. The person on passport control did not look upon me with a kindly eye, possibly due to the lateness of the hour and because they would much rather have been tucked up in bed with their cat and a late night cocoa, so immediately questioned my intentions in visiting, stating firmly “you should not be here taking work away from Canadians”.
I’m not sure what the situation is now, but at the time it was legal to give a five day class in the Land of the Maple Leaf without having to apply for a visa.
They eventually directed me into a cubicle so that we could further discuss the situation. After half an hour of grumpy grilling (none of which was getting either the bureaucrat or me any closer to our respective pillows) I suggested they look at my website, and decide from the information there whether I was taking work from locals or perhaps bringing knowledge to share that might be of value to them. Five minutes later they begrudgingly let me go, to totter off to a nearby hotel for what remained of the night, muttering my thanks to providence that I had declined my friend’s offer of meeting my plane (given it was arriving late) in favour of meeting in the morning. It would not have been pleasant for her to wait in the arrivals hall as it emptied while I was detained at the border.
Happily that was the only fly in the ointment that week.
The workshop space was at the NSCAD Port campus, across an expanse of water from Georges Island, used as a prison for Acadians (1755-1763) prior to their deportation from Canada by the British, who ‘redistributed’ them to various American colonies.
“In meetings with Acadians in July 1755 in Halifax, Lawrence pressed the delegates to take an unqualified oath of allegiance to Britain. When they refused, he imprisoned them and gave the fateful order for deportation.
Lawrence had strong support in his Council from recent immigrants from New England, who coveted Acadian lands. Traders from Boston frequently expressed wonder that an "alien" people were allowed to possess such fine lands in a British colony. On Friday, September 5, 1755 Colonel John Winslow ordered that all males aged 10 years and up in the area were to gather in the Grand-Pré Church for an important message from His Excellency, Charles Lawrence, the Lieutenant-Governor of Nova Scotia. The decree that was read to the assembled and stated in part: "That your Land & Tennements, Cattle of all Kinds and Livestocks of all Sorts are forfeited to the Crown with all other your effects Savings your money and Household Goods, and you yourselves to be removed from this Province."
It was a New Englander, Charles Morris, who devised the plan to surround the Acadian churches on a Sunday morning, capture as many men as possible, breach the dykes and burn the houses and crops. When the men refused to go, the soldiers threatened their families with bayonets. They went reluctantly, praying, singing and crying. By the fall of 1755 some 1,100 Acadians were aboard transports for South Carolina, Georgia and Pennsylvania.”
In all, some 10,000 Acadians were shipped out of Canada, after living there on Mi’kqmac territory for some 150 years.
Sound familiar?
But back to my story. I was hosted by one of the faculty for the duration of the workshop (something I no longer agree to, because I end up teaching the class twice, once to the students and then again each evening having to recap the day for my host with additional brain-picking) and then found accommodation at an helltell for another week, during which I was artist-in-residence in the same studio. Each morning I walked a different route to work, gathering windfall leaves and metal treasures from the gutters in my pockets.
The picture above was snapped by Donn Sabean (I hope I have their name correct after all these years) during an expedition the class made to the water’s edge.
The NSCAD city campus had an excellent art supply shop and I treated myself to an enormous Moleskine notebook, filling much of it during that week, and the last few pages on the northern California coast on my way home, and then much later scrawling in one quote from 2013. I am admittedly a somewhat erratic note keeper. Somehow that book ended up out in the weather last winter, and was overlooked as I was moving things from one space to another in order to accommodate a family member who wanted the rooms. I stumbled on it yesterday morning and have cobbled together a series of moving images, made as I picked my way through the semi-composted pages.