A Naïve Thought

I first heard of the Qu’Appelle Valley sometime in grade school at St. Michael’s in Prince Albert. I don’t remember the grade but I remember that someone in the poem said qu’appelle in French. I can’t remember the poem or its author. I can’t remember the grade, nor can I remember the teacher. Maybe it was Mrs. McDonald or Mr. Hanishewski, I don’t know. It was sometime in the fifties when the world still had memories, dreams, and imagination. It was a naïve time, remembering what was perhaps a more naïve time. Funny though, because I had never been to the Valley and had never heard of it before. Still, I had memories of that place that came to the forefront with that poem and the line “qu’appelle.” Such was the gift of poetry. Later I travelled to Regina to attend university and actually visited several places along the Qu’Appelle Valley that seemed as haunting as the poem.

The poem’s title still slips my mind and I have not the heart to search it out. I think the words “qu’appelle” stand on their own. I know now that science has placed the Valley’s birth sometime in the last ice age or the late Jurassic period or whatever scientific nomenclature is appropriate. I prefer the naïve thought . . . Qu’Appelle. It’s like the man on the moon that disappeared when mankind tried to find him by setting foot on the moon. The beauty and naiveté disappeared in the research. A friend of mine once said if you peel away each layer of the onion in order to find out what it is, you will eventually end up with no onion.

For time immemorial First Nations communities have used and lived in the “The Valley.” It was a virtual Garden of Eden with buffalo, deer, elk, bear, wolf, coyote, beaver, geese, swans, ducks, prairie chickens, many kinds of fish and berries such as chokecherries, saskatoons, and raspberries, to name a few. It became a prime First Nations’ choice when the Treaties were signed. The Grandfathers knew its worth and savoured its ancient sacredness. “The Valley” was a jewel not to be lost or forgotten.

Today in every First Nations community along the valley the Spirituality of the past is alive in song and dance. The Powwow, the Sundance, and the Sweatlodge prevail with thousands each year travelling to the Valley to celebrate and share with the ancients.

Since my early years at university I have done a number of works around this wonderful valley. The two paintings I have chosen for this essay are Path to Piapot, in this exhibition, and Summer Sunset in the Valley, in the collection of Allen Sapp.

Bob Boyer, Path to Piapot

Bob Boyer, Chemin menant à Piapot

Path to Piapot, completed in 1999, is 4 feet high by 6 feet wide and completed in fresco. After working on blankets for quite a number of years I wanted a change. Further, I had an interest in doing frescoes since my student days and thought, upon finishing with the blankets, that frescoes would be timely for me. The intended subjects were to address the continuing strength of First Nation’s culture, whereas the blankets primarily addressed the problems created by Euro-American western migration.

The Qu’Appelle Valley is part of that consciousness. As mentioned, the Qu’Appelle Valley continues to be a sacred place with food aplenty and the spirits of the Grandfathers ever present. Today people return to the Valley from all over the Americas to participate in the annual ceremonies, with even visitors from Europe trying to grab the experience. The Path to Piapot is an ancient trail. First Nation’s Culture is alive and well in the Valley and, in particular, the Piapot First Nation.

Summer Sunset in the Valley is oil over fresco, 24 in. high and 36 in. wide; it was completed in 1997. Consistent with the concern in my newer works expressing the good things in Aboriginal culture not destroyed by a dominant culture, this painting documents a particular spiritual lifestyle that is renewed each year in many communities along the Valley. Red is a holy colour. “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.” A beautiful red sunset on a warm summer’s eve in the Valley seems, to me, a fortunate sign to the future.

A naïve thought?