A gallery falls in the forest
Storm closes George Sawchuck's 30-year show
BY Grant Shilling
Photography by Mary Alice
It took almost 30 years of work for 80-year-old George Sawchuk to create the Forest Gallery behind his Fanny Bay, B.C., home—and one night of heavy storms to destroy much of it.
“You could hear the loud crack of the trees as they snapped like toothpicks,” says Sawchuk of the storms last November that battered much of the West Coast. Centuries-old trees were uprooted, and many of them damaged his work or blocked paths, making them inaccessible. Mother nature had come to reclaim his art.
For decades, the four-acre gallery that borders on Sawchuk’s garden blended seamlessly with its surroundings. On paths that meander through the forest are his artworks. Sawchuk combines pieces of metal, porcelain, mirrors and found objects—often discarded tools of various trades—with the trees themselves, creating what he refers to as white man’s totems. Some of the pieces are memorials to fellow labourers and artists; others are statements on our dependency on oil, water and religion.
Sawchuk’s art began because of an accident. Born in Kenora, Ontario, he worked as a labourer there until he hopped a train out. In 1956, while working at a steel mill, a pile of metal slipped and crushed his leg. For the next decade, Sawchuk would live with significant pain while doctors tried a variety of treatments. Finally in 1968, his lower leg was, as Sawchuk puts it, “bucked off.” He was without pain, and for the first time in his adult life had time to explore a latent interest in making things. He bought a chainsaw with his first compensation cheque and began to carve nooks in trees where he placed what would become his trademark wooden books filled with colourful quotations.
Sawchuk would go on to blossom as an artist. Over the decades he’s had shows at galleries in Canada and the U.S., including a major show at the Vancouver Art Gallery. In 1979, he settled in Fanny Bay, on the four acres of land that’s been his home ever since. He’s also become a beloved part of the community.
In 1997, when the Crown ordered Sawchuk to remove artwork that was about 100 yards into its property, many of his neighbours and friends rallied around him. The government dropped the matter. Hikers who use the trails around Fanny Bay might bump into Sawchuk’s work and his Forest Gallery has become a magnet for travellers. The local kids have taken to calling his forest “the wacky woods.”
In a way, the storm has pushed Sawchuk to think about his artistic legacy and take stock in his part of the life cycle. “Everything must change,” says Sawchuk of his decision to leave much of his work to return to the forest.
“You see that log on the ground,” he points with a huge paw, “that log will be the source to so much life here in the forest. I hope that in some small way my work will inspire others to their own personal growth—whatever that may be.”
