Toronto, AGO, Innuit Mother and Child
“Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep.”
— Romans 12:15
Click to View Larger
Frances Loring carved this sculpture, Inuit Mother and Child out of limestone in 1938. When this boy slipped away from his family and sat down on the base, he unwittingly added another level of poignancy to an already powerful story.
We see the boy looking up questioning at the mother, but her gaze is focused elsewhere. She appears lost in her own world, a world in which the Canadian government practiced “aggressive assimilation.” This has been described as a policy of “cultural genocide” and was at its peak in the 1930’s when this sculpture was created.
At that time, the government had a policy of forcibly removing children from their homes and placing them in abusive boarding schools, often with tragic consequences, including death. Mother appears sad. Is she contemplating the future painful separation from her child who now is oblivious of his fate?
There is more. Mother and child do not exist in isolation. Behind them is a painting and a little sculpture in a glass case. These two are also connected to the story.
The painting by the noted Canadian painter Frederick Horsman Varley is titled Liberation and was painted in 1936. The small stone sculpture is of a man, presumably a preacher. It’s by master indigenous carver Pootoogook Jaw titled Man holding a Bible and carved in the 20th century. The painting is of a man, looking forwards. Closer inspection reveals that what appears to be a face, is in fact his chest. His head, much smaller, is easily missed. Is this a Christ figure with a crown of thorns, a visual illustration of suffering? Missionaries and preachers have a history of inflicting suffering on indigenous peoples. Perhaps this explains the Bible puncher in the case.
The boy, with his red pants, serves as a pointer to steer the eye back to the mother and child. Like a Madonna and Child, we can imagine what fate befalls them. Currently, mass graves are being unearthed at boarding schools for indigenous children. The boy looks like he could be of Somali descent. If so, what story does he hold?
Coincidentally, the boy’s shirt, the painting and the sculpture, all have a similar green hue. This helps connect them.
This child is caught up in an adult world between a tall sinister male figure, a preacher aggressively exhorting against native practices, a mother who is immersed in her own world of suffering. There is no comfort for him here. Where is the protective adult who will take him out of this scene of horrors and into the playground where he belongs?