The Vancouver Sun from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada • 75

Saga of how she painted Jimmy John, famed Nootka wood carver might have expected, and most of them about Indians. Many of them have been out of print for years and would be much prized today by collectors. There waa W. H. Collison'a Wake Of The War Canoe and Halli-day's Potlach And Totem among downs of others.

Over the years, Mildred had colored slides made of all her Indian paintings, because she found it convenient on the many lecture tours she gave throughout the country, having found it difficult, if not impossible, to take the hundreds of canvases with her. When I asked to see them, my host graciously acquiesced, saying she would show only the slides of the British Columbia paintings, saving those of the prairie Indians for a future occasion. All of the paintings were arranged in a definite sequence, and as they flashed on the screen, their meanings and origins were explained by the artist. I seemed to feel myself transported back to a bygone era, as ancient villages and great stands of totem poles appeared before my eyes. Some of the villages, such as the Salish village that has disappeared from the Stanley Park area without a trace, Mildred carefully constructed on canvas from vivid accounts given her by very old native elders with long memories, such as the late chief August Jack (Khatsalano), who was born in Stanley Park.

That first evening with Mildred was to be the beginning of a firm and lasting friendship between us, which endured until her passing in 1967, at 77 years of age. During all this time, she was not a well woman and spent an unhappy time in and out of rest homes and hospitals, taking treatments that were often painfully unpleasant. But, despite such setbacks, her Indomitable spirit and fantastic energy never failed her. A typical example of what she could accomplish, when she made up her mind, was her decision to go to Vancouver Island and seek out Jimmy John, the aging and famous Nootka carver. She was not long back from hospital, after being knocked out again by the mysterl ous blood malady that plagued her.

"Jimmy is more than just a fine carver," she explained to me. "He has a tremendous history behind him, being directly related to Chief Maquinna the Nootka chief who made history by sinking the S.S. Boston away back around 1802. I want to paint Jimmy's portrait; he is already quite old and time is running out if I'm ever going to do it." Could she not wait a week or so, until she felt stronger and better able to make the trip? No, she could not. I was by now Mildred's willing accomplice In these undertakings, and accordingly we set off, my little car quite loaded down with her oils and canvases, as well as her projector and kodachromes of her paintings.

Just why she chose to tote the latter along, I was to find out later. ized more carefully the dozens of paintings, most of them oils, which hung in old frames on the walls, or stood stacked against each other unframed, on the floor. Some of the pictures were of Indian villages, with weathered old totem poles leaning at grotesque angles. I noticed a beautiful watercolor, depicting a stand of totem poles, which Mildred later told me she had painted about 20 years previously at the ancient Tsim-shian village of Kispiox, near Hazelton. I was overcome with curiosity.

What urges or impulses drove this cultured lady to involve herself so deeply with the native people? So deeply indeed, that even the rugs on the floor which she made herself, car. ried out the Indian theme with their hand-hooked designs of the killer whale, bear and raven. I asked her this as we sat over our tea, trying valiantly to keep my eyes from forever straying around the room while listening to her reply. Fortunately, I made extensive notes after my visit that evening and am able to quote her answer with fair accuracy. "They (the Indian people) are so basic.

There is in their character an acceptance of things as they ate. They identify themselves far more with nature's forces than we do. I think it is this affinity they enjoy with animals and birds, and indeed with all the life and growth around them, that attracts me so much to Indians. Before the white man came, the Indian lived in total harmony with his environment, almost to the point of blending. "It was many years ago, when I was living in Regt-na, I began to realize how fast the Indians are losing their old cultures, including to a very large extent, their ancient arts and crafts.

Even the colorful costumes are rarely worn, except on a few ceremonial occasions. "How many people know today that the prairie Indians utilized the top of the buffalo's head, including the horns, as a ceremonial helmet? I began to develop an uncontrollable urge to paint the Indians, and to record everything I could on canvas. One of my favorite stamping grounds became the Calgary stampede, because it was such a marvelous gathering place for Indians from many tribes, including Blood, Blackfoot and Cree. "It was the elders of the tribes I usually sought out and asked to pose for me. Whenever possible, I took my twin sons along on these painting trips.

"By the time we had moved here to Vancouver, in the early thirties, I had painted more than a hundred Indian scenes and portraits and brought them all with me. "Once we were established here, It started all over again. I felt as if someone were standing over me with a whip. I could never have done it of course, without the understanding and cooperation of my late husband. "I would bake for days and load up the fridge with food, and then leave him to take care of the house and the twins, while I journeyed off to some remote Indian village, such as Kitwancool or Kispiox, to paint everything I saw there, whether it be a chief or a totem pole, that I felt should be recorded for posterity, "What you see here is only a fraction of the collection of paintings.

There are more down in the basement and upstairs, and those I treasure most are in a vault downtown for safekeeping." "What do you intend to do with them all?" I asked curiously. "I have kept the whole collection Intact all these years, hoping for an offer from the government. It's become a kind of a dream of mine to see the Indian series of the paintings housed in a public gallery. The money I received would go into a fund to be used for scholarships and bursuries for our B.C. Indians." TSIMSMAN TOTEM, KISPIOX another watercolor On leaving the ferry at Nanaimo we journeyed south a few miles and finally, after a rather confusing drive involving much stopping and asking on the way, succeeded in tracking Jimmy down.

We found him a short, stocky man even older looking than we expected. He was busy carving a tourist totem In his little workshop, and at first showed little interest in us. He did not wish to pose for a portrait and, since he spoke little English, his son Leslie had to act as interpreter, a fact which made persuasion difficult and ineffective. But Mildred asked Leslie to ask Jimmy whether he would like to see her slides, and by the time the request had been laboriously translated from son to father in the Nootka language, we had found an electric plug in and set up the projector, using the plywood wall as our screen. Mildred had chosen her slides with care.

First to appear on the screen was a weathered old Nootka house-post; then followed in succession vivid portraits of well known native faces, some of them friends of Jimmy's, who had long since departed this world. He was completely won over and wished to be painted immediately and join the ranks of those thus immortalized, like the Kwakiutl chief Billy Assu and Chief Mathias Joe Capilano. He donned a magnificent headdress he had made (Continued on Page 6) beads. The division between the black and blue of the cloth was hidden by rows of tiny mother-of-pearl buttons, and the lining inside was of red flannel. There was also an outstanding carving in red cedar of a Haida ceremonial headdress, representing the killer whale.

When I tried it on, the eyes and exposed rows of teeth faced the front with the flippers curving out realistically from either side, while on the top, at a majestic angle, rose the dorsal fin. The artist explained she had bought most of the collection over the years from her native friends while traveling throughout the province painting their portraits and their colorful past. There was even a deerskin costume which was once owned and worn on many occasions by the famous Mohawk princess and poet, Pauline Johnson. Downstairs again, Mildred showed me another collection. Not paintings or carvings this time, but books.

Nearly all of them were books about Canadiana, as I After tea, Mildred conducted me on a tour of the next floor. In order to negotiate the stairs, it was necessary to step around a huge Salish carving of a killer whale. On the wall over the stairwell, hung an ancient kwakiutl mat, woven from shredded cedar bark. Upstairs, spread out on a bed in an unused room, I saw a truly outstanding kwakiutl blanket, once owned by a chief and used only on great ceremonial occasions. It was a rich royal blue with a wide black trim.

The design of a totem of the Eagle Clan of the Kwakiutl tribe and below two bears, was very Intricate and had been painstakingly done with literally thousands of The VANCOUVER SUN: Apr. 8, 1971 A.