Winnipeg Tribune Head is Found

I also mentioned in my previous blog that I was trying to identify the original artist. Well, I found out that all the grotesques were made at the American Terra Cotta and Ceramic Company factory near Chicago, Illinois. The artist may have been Kristian E. Schneider, a Norwegian immigrant who worked with American Terra Cotta from about 1906 to 1930. He was their lead sculptor and modeller and had early in his career worked very closely with Louis Sullivan, the famous architect of the “Chicago School”. Sullivan was instrumental in the development of the steel beam skyscraper, and his work also influenced the architect of the Winnipeg Tribune Building, John D.Atchison, who commissioned the grotesques. It seems that for a brief time at least, Winnipeg really was a Chicago of the North.

I was recently asked to attend a conference and weekend festival in Poland regarding historic landscapes in the Vistula River valley. One of the newer public interests in the area happens to be Mennonite history: Mennonites arrived in Poland in the mid-16th century from the Netherlands region and established thriving communities that existed until 1945, when they fled the Soviet advances at the end of World War II.

This last weekend The Manitoba Museum had a very special guest. Joseph Winzoski arrived on Saturday afternoon with family and friends to have a look at a special artifact his grandfather had made back in about 1910. Joseph’s grandfather, Juszef Wiazowski, was a master glass blower at the Manitoba Glass Works in Beausejour, and created this glass cane there. Referred to sometimes as “whimsies”, these kinds of decorative pieces could be made as gifts or for sale. Juszef was recruited in Poland by Josef Albert Keilbach to help start up the factory work in 1906.

Joseph Winsozki’s granddaughter has provided the museum with some of her detailed research of the family history:

“Juszef Wiazowski was a part owner of a Glass Company in Poland. This…was discovered in the Archives of Poland by a distant cousin in 2012.”

“It is my belief that [Josef] Albert Keilbach visited with Mr. Juszef Wiazowski at his glass manufacturing plant in Lodz, Poland and recruited him as a partner in the Manitoba Glassworks.”

Juszef’s son Adam was also a glass blower at the factory, and his son Joseph, our visitor, was born in 1916. Joseph never really knew his father. Both of Joseph’s parents died of the Spanish Flu, a world-wide epidemic, in 1918, and around the same time his grandfather Juszef was kicked by a horse and killed. Joseph had a difficult childhood: he and his siblings were forced by their step-family to work on farms all over Manitoba. Joseph later served in the Netherlands, fighting in the Liberation of Arnhem, and was later a guard for the war criminal Kurt Meyer in Aurich, Germany. As an orphan, Joseph was always interested in reconnecting to his father’s family history, and this glass cane, and the Winzoski’s of Beausejour, were a big part of that story. Thanks for the visit, Joe.

Slovakian textiles recently donated to The Manitoba Museum help tell the story of one family’s immigration to Manitoba in the late 1940s. These textiles were made in the tiny village of Lentvora, in a small valley in central Slovakia. The Karman family grew their own flax, which was then beaten, spun, dyed, and finally woven into these textile patterns. The donor of the textiles, Anne Anderson, was a child in the village in the early 1940s, and remembers her mother Anna and her mothers’ relatives gathering in the kitchen/dining room around a loom to do some weaving.

Mrs. Anderson held on to these textiles for years before donating them to museum this summer, because they told her mother’s story and they reminded her of life back in Slovakia, where the family worked together to produce what they needed. Now this story will endure at The Manitoba Museum.

Guest blog by Alexandra Kroeger, Practicum student from the University of Winnipeg

Lately I’ve been conducting an informal survey amongst family and friends on what they know about the Urban Gallery. On the bright side, most people do know what the Urban Gallery is. Even if they don’t know it by name, as soon as I explain it as, “You know. The street? With the theatre?” people know exactly what I’m talking about. If the person was around in the 70s, they’ll probably add, “didn’t they used to sell candy there?” (They did.)

Once I ask what the Urban Gallery represents, however, I start getting blank looks. For the record, those who answer “Winnipeg in the 1920s!” are absolutely correct. But even these perceptive individuals would be surprised to learn that originally, there was a lot more to the Urban Gallery.

The Bletcher and McDougall Pharmacy, where at one point visitors could buy candy.

When the gallery was being planned in the early 1970s, the people on the committee kept coming back to the idea of contrasts in cities. Winnipeg is particularly rich in contrasts, one of the more obvious being the sharp divide between the north and south ends of the city. This contrast was particularly stark in the 1920s. Wages hadn’t kept up with rising costs of living, leaving the poor (who generally lived on the north side of the CPR tracks) barely able to get by, while the rich (who generally lived south of the tracks) got richer and richer. These kinds of tensions, along with post-war economic conditions, led to the 1919 General Strike. The Urban Gallery is set the year after the Strike, but things haven’t quite changed yet. The railroad tracks still divide the south end from the north end. The south end has a theatre, high-end clothing store and lavishly-furnished parlour; the north end, a garment factory, Chinese laundry, and a cramped boarding house.

Another theme the planners wanted to explore was the past, present, and future of the city. The reconstructed buildings and businesses were supposed to represent the past, and then there were supposed to be two other components to the gallery. The Exhibition Hall by the All People’s Mission was originally an actual exhibition hall occupied by temporary exhibits on different aspects of our city’s history, and how they would affect the present. The third and last component of the gallery was “Cities of the Future,” which would have asked people to think about cities of the present and how they might develop. I haven’t figured out whether or not the Cities of the Future exhibit was actually built, but maybe a reader might have some insight.

I just want to close with a few of my favourite facts about the gallery.

Both the Bank of Montreal and the All People’s Mission were actual buildings in Winnipeg. The BMO building was built in the 1880s and torn down in the early 1970s – just in time to reuse some of the material from the building in the gallery. The All People’s Mission in the gallery might have been based off of the old building at Stella and Powers., though we’re not quite certain on that point.

In a particularly ironic case of contrast, the mannequin whose room overlooks the All People’s Mission in the gallery is more than just a fortune teller. Madame Taro tells fortunes, but she also provides “other services” – If you know what I mean.

There wasn’t actually a Proscenium Theatre in Winnipeg at any time in its history, but there were lots of others. Alexander Pantages used his Winnipeg theatre (which is right down the street from the museum) to test out acts for his vaudeville circuit; if it didn’t do well in Winnipeg, it didn’t make the cut. Winnipeg also drew some vaudeville greats, including Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, and Stan Laurel. The story goes that Bob Hope even learned to play golf here!

A plaque featuring a fragment of the marble base of the Memorial of the Fallen in Afghanistan was presented to The Manitoba Museum in April by the Commanding Officer of the Winnipeg Infantry Tactical Grouping (Royal Winnipeg Rifles and Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders). It will be on display in the museum’s foyer from November 9 to November 30.

The original memorial was erected at Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan in 2006 and grew in symbolic importance over time as it evolved with the pace of operations. At the end of the Canadian combat operations, in June 2011, it contained plaques honouring all of the fallen in the Afghan theatre of Operations, including:

• Canadian soldiers;
• Allied soldiers serving under Canadian Command;
• Members of the Canadian Government; and
• One member of the Canadian Press Corps.

It was a living memorial that changed and expanded, and when families of the fallen started to visit Kandahar Airfield in 2009 for Remembrance Day, this cenotaph was a focal point of the ceremonies.

The Memorial of the Fallen has attained national significance, and in early December, 2011, it was repatriated to Canada. It is scheduled to be unveiled in its new permanent home in Ottawa in 2014.

Lieutenant Colonel B.W. Takeuchi wrote in a letter to the museum, “This simple piece [of the cenotaph] represents the essence of Canada’s effort and sacrifice in maintaining world peace and helping the citizens of Afghanistan.”

In our new exhibit, “The Selkirk Settlement: 200 Years”, we feature a violin with a unique and travelled history. It was made around 1800 in London, England, in the shop of John Betts. Pierre Bruce, a Scottish man who joined Selkirk’s colony acquired it (probably in Scotland) and brought the violin with him when he settled in Red River in 1815. Pierre was the “unofficial dance master” of the Red River, leading music and dancing at local festivities. The violin was handed down through successive Bruce generations, until it was donated to The Manitoba Museum in 1991 by the Bruce family.

The Selkirk Settlement was the brainchild of the Earl of Selkirk, who wanted to re-settle dispossessed Scottish farmers in North America. He was granted a large portion of Hudson Bay Company land holdings in 1811 known as “Assiniboia”, and planned to ship settlers to the Red River area to begin a colony of farmers. However, the people who already lived in the region were not consulted about this development, and for the first ten years of the Selkirk Settlement, political conflict was even more disruptive than the initial disastrous attempts at farming. The Red River area was inhabited by Assiniboine, Métis, and Ojibwe people, as well as HBC and North West company traders, all of whom had their own interests, alliances, and conflicts. Nevertheless, the various groups did eventually co-exist peacefully (well, at least until 1870). I like to think that perhaps the dances led by Pierre Bruce and his fiddle went some way to bringing people together.

“Gargoyle” is a popular term for whimsical statues of odd looking beings attached to the top of old buildings. The museum was offered a gargoyle in 2011 that originated in Winnipeg, and after some further research I found that we had another gargoyle from the same structure, the Tribune Building. The Winnipeg Tribune was an influential city newspaper that was founded in 1890 and closed in 1980. In 1913 a new building for the newspaper company was constructed at 257 Smith St. by architect John D. Atchison, and it was decorated with 14 gargoyles. They were removed from the building in 1969 during renovations and sold to newspaper employees. At that time The Manitoba Museum received one of the statues from the Tribune – “The Printer”. This figure holds an archaic miniature printing press and grasps the handles, turning the screw and applying pressure to the paper held between two plates.

Each of the 14 gargoyles was unique, holding tools symbolic of the newspaper trade. They were dressed in medieval clothing, their bodies contorted, stunted, and muscular. Even their faces were quite expressive. The terra cotta figures themselves were not carved out of stone but moulded with clay. They were posed in such a way that they leaned over passersby on the sidewalks six storeys below. Each figure was only two feet high, and I wonder if anyone ever really noticed them, but there they sat for almost 70 years jeering at innocent pedestrians.

The second and most recent gargoyle to join our collection is “The City Editor”, donated by Helen Leeds. This figure almost carelessly holds a pair of scissors in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other. Overall, the expression and pose seem somewhat casual.

Although such figures are popularly known as “gargoyles”, that term technically only refers to statues that act as water spouts, helping to protect the architecture by taking the rainwater and spewing it far from the building. The word “gargoyle” comes from the French gargouille, meaning “throat” (think “gargle”). Our Tribune statues would more correctly be referred to as “grotesques” – decorative exterior figures that indulge in caricature or absurdity.

One mystery remains. It is not known (yet) who sculpted these strange and symbolic creatures. I’ll post this on the blog as soon as I find out…

The recent passing of Clarence Tillenius brings into focus his many influences here at The Manitoba Museum. He was the creator of The Manitoba Museum’s largest dioramas, as well as a comprehensive collection of paintings and sketches. His vision of art and nature, which spanned over 75 years, indicates a persistent dedication to the life of animals and their habitats. What inspired him? Perhaps it was simply the beauty of landscapes: when I look at his paintings, well-liked by many audiences, I see a great respect for wildlife and the use of art as drama. And certainly, there is no lack of drama in nature. But as I looked more deeply into our files I found a quote from Mr. Tillenius that sheds light on his purpose.

I sense a note of resignation in this quote, but also the need to observe, record and dramatize. While Clarence “grieved that it must be so”, he acted through art to create works that would inspire younger generations. Environmental groups, schools, scientists, and museums have coalesced over the decades to create not only an appreciation of nature, but a way forward to protect Canada’s wilderness.