“Ephemeral” Art with Lasting Impact: Pat McGuire’s Untitled Drawing in Understanding “Canada” through Art
Written by Talia Kainz, the University of British Columbia
Edited by Sophie Hill and Beatrice Moritz
Defined marks in a space of immense power; I was immediately drawn to Pat McGuire’s work. Patrick (Pat) McGuire’s untitled drawing is held at the Museum of Anthropology (MOA) at the University of British Columbia’s (UBC) permanent collection (fig. 1). The work was created between the years 1962 to 1970 and was on display between June 13, 2024 and March 30, 2025, as a part of the exhibition titled, To Be Seen, To Be Heard: First Nations in Public Spaces, 1900–1965.[1] Created using black and red ink ballpoint pens, the drawing depicts a Haida canoe in the centre of a rectangular, white paper oriented horizontally. The paper is no larger than letter-sized with text that reads “Belmont Hotel,” accompanied by the hotel’s logo, location, and telephone number. In the gallery space, this work was displayed on the wall towards the end of the series of works that precede it. In other words, the gallery visitor would most likely have seen many of the other pieces in the exhibition before getting to this untitled drawing. In this essay, I explore what the medium of McGuire’s untitled work exposes about the context of its creation. More specifically, with a focus on medium, a scrap paper from the Belmont Hotel, I argue that the artist remediates the affordances of the paper medium and, in doing so, reveals the complexities of Indigenous art practices in the context of “Canadian” urban centres during the 1960s.[2]
Figure 1. Pat McGuire, Author’s Personal Photo of Untitled, 1962-70. Ink Paper. The Museum of Anthropology at UBC, 2025.
To begin, I will explore the context of the production of McGuire’s untitled drawing, specifically looking at 1960s “Canada” with focus on urban centers such as Vancouver.[3] Pat McGuire was an artist of Haida and Ojibway-Irish heritage, a member of the Staastas Eagle clan, who was born in 1943 and raised in Skidegate, Haida Gwaii.[4] Growing up, he pursued his passion for creating, drawing, and argillite carving under the guidance of Indigenous artists and elders in his community. McGuire moved to Vancouver at the age of nineteen, approximately in 1962, to pursue a career as an artist - a move that impacted the visibility and exposure of his work. Scholar Karen Duffek describes the circulation of Northwest Coast art during the mid-1960s within institutions, art markets, and museums by referring to a “value added” process: “the contributions of production and marketing to enhancing or transforming the value of a product.”[5] Duffek cites the work of Doreen Jensen, discussing the art market of the 1960s in which Indigenous artists began to be in “dialogue with non-Native culture” as well as introducing contemporary practices of traditional Northwest Coast art “out of hiding.”[6] A prominent rhetoric in art historical scholarship of the time was that the 1960s were a “renaissance” for Indigenous art. This has been criticized by scholars, such as Aaron Glass and Aldona Jonaitis, as it implies a death and rebirth: “to call the period ‘a renaissance’... ultimately does a disservice to diverse First Nations in their continuing struggle against colonial injustice.”[7] Though not a “renaissance,” the social, political, and economic environment in so-called Canada at the time did play a role in the increased recognition of Indigenous art. With exhibitions such as Arts of the Raven, a 1967 exhibition at the Vancouver Art Gallery (VAG), The Indians of Canada Pavilion at Expo 67 in Quebec, and The Art of the Kwakiutl Indians and Other Northwest Coast Tribes (at the Museum of Anthropology at UBC in 1967), which occurred only a few years before McGuire’s passing in 1970, Canadian museums and institutions were beginning to recognize, appreciate, and exhibit Indigenous Northwest Coast works.[8] Here, it is important to also think about practices of Haida art in relation to other Northwest Coast Indigenous groups and the fact that historically, Haida art and cultural practices are more public-facing than their more southern neighbours, such as Coast Salish culture. Thereby, settler recognition of Haida art not only increased in the 1960s due to the lifting of the potlatch ban in 1951 but also because historically, Haida art was viewed as more “superior” than Indigenous art of more southern geographies – a misconception based on early, settler ethnographic research.[9]
Though the city afforded access to Haida art and networks for an emerging artist, it also carried with it different kinds of isolation, discrimination, and hardship. Tragically, McGuire’s struggle with addiction led to his death in Vancouver at the age of twenty-seven.[10] It was unfortunate to discover that there is limited scholarship on McGuire’s work, perhaps considering his sudden passing. Having said this, Haida artists such as Bill Reid and emerging Haida artists at the time of his death, such as Robert Davidson, acknowledge the great impact his work had for the future of Haida art.[11]
Through the work’s medium, Pat McGuire’s untitled drawing in the MOA considers these histories. In her work about Haida art, Nika Collison states that the commercial market for Haida art existed and still exists “apart from and despite Western commerce.”[12] She also points out that the conditions of this market have changed under colonial powers. The Haida canoe as the most important visual object in the culture, advanced the nation’s economy and knowledge as travel and trade increased.[13] The relationship between Haida and what Euro-settler systems of thought refer to as ‘art’, is one of great significance, especially considering the role of the Haida canoe – a cultural object represented in McGuire’s drawing. Haida elder, GwaaG̱anad, Diane Brown shares, “there was no word for ‘art’ because it was in every part of our lives.”[14] Similarly, Robert Davidson states, “art was one with our culture” and “art is our only written language.”[15] Given its medium, the social function of McGuire’s drawing may appear to be somewhat limited when compared to the types of works discussed by Haida artists such as Reid and Davidson, which look at Haida belongings such as the cedar canoe. Despite this “limitation” of medium in McGuire’s drawing, the connection to lineage and tradition remains undeniable. Here, I discuss the phenomenon wherein Indigenous art becomes saturated in colonial spaces such as gift shops, tourism destinations, and attractions that are primarily located in urban centers. Though there was an increased recognition of Indigenous art in the 1960s, this was not isolated from the culture of extraction, capitalism, and constant production that forced, and often continues to force, Indigenous artists to create under colonial systems of exchange and commodification for their livelihood. As Scott Watson describes, it was not until the 1980s that the Vancouver Art Gallery (VAG) began to “collect and research the history it so spectacularly and successfully exhibited in 1967.”[16] Even though cities seemed to promise more exposure for an artist, and did in many cases, issues regarding access and the fight for self-representation remain prominent. This speaks to the power of the ballpoint pen on paper as a medium for McGuire’s untitled drawing.
Black and red ink pens, McGuire’s chosen medium, forge a relationship between the traditional, artistic practices of Indigenous creators and the capitalist structure, creating readymades such as the pen itself. The ink on paper displays a familiar mark by ballpoint pen, an inexpensive and arguably accessible medium commonly reserved for writing or doodling. McGuire’s meticulous formline and darker marks on the page define and solidify the crests in the Haida canoe as elements of Haida that remain through the passage of time, lending the canoe a heavy graphic weight. These lines reflect McGuire’s history of carving canoes and argillite, where precise lines are ideal practice. The city landscape does not afford the materials to create these pieces easily; therefore, the paper becomes the medium of choice. The accuracy McGuire achieves by using line drawing techniques contradicts the way that the hotel pen is commonly used for scrap notes. This accuracy is a hallmark of his watercolour works that he sold in Vancouver for a living. The contrast between tradition and readymade embedded in the medium, as well as the contradicting way McGuire uses the tool itself (one based in accuracy rather than speed), draws parallels to the relationship between Indigenous cultural practices and the structures of oppression they are often created within; the two are in coexistence yet are almost diametrically opposed. This is important to note as McGuire was producing artworks preceding the beginnings of the increase in non-Indigenous recognition of Indigenous art during the late sixties and throughout the seventies. As Duffek notes in her work about Bill Reid, “tradition and innovation are not isolated components in art, one belonging to the past and the other to the present or future…Both are part of a continuity, and the artist builds one upon the other as he develops his art through experimentation and learning.”[17] This same methodology is applied to McGuire’s work, and this untitled drawing is an example of just that.
McGuire’s ‘canvas’ in this work stands out for two main reasons. Firstly, it is a tool for branding for the Belmont Hotel, and secondly, it is a medium that is usually ephemeral in nature. The text on the viewer’s left indicates that the artist most likely obtained the medium of this work by visiting or residing at the hotel itself. The hotel stationery is creased and contains marks of dirt, implying perhaps that it has been handled or treated with a lack of care. The texture of the paper affords the fragility of the medium. Having said this, there is no indication that the paper has been folded, perhaps in an attempt to preserve something that would presumably be disposed of or treated as scrap paper. Again, there is juxtaposition; this time, between what the medium is intended to create versus the way McGuire manipulates or transforms it with his personal mark.
The materials used to create this work, the pen and the stationery paper, are both objects of consumer culture that innately connect McGuire’s work to everyday interactions with structures of power. In this way, I consider the relationship between the content of the traditional Haida canoe and the material quality of the artwork to be in somewhat of a contrast to one another. Ancestral traditions lie at the source of the depiction, yet the circumstances in which these traditions are carried through time are also put to the forefront by McGuire’s use of hotel stationery and readymade ballpoint pens. The content and the material of “scrap” paper appear as an act of preservation and coexistence. McGuire’s drawing is less about constructing a Canadian identity than it is a critique of the ephemerality of this very construction. The medium of this artwork, perhaps initially intended to be scrap paper, has remained preserved and put in the context of the gallery space. The gallery amplifies McGuire’s culture while the medium of the work itself simultaneously puts him in dialogue with systems of colonial power.
To conclude, Pat McGuire’s untitled drawing uncovers the complexities of creating as an Indigenous artist in the 1960s working in so-called Canada’s urban centers. A quote that guided much of this research is one by Audre Lorde that says, “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.”[18] Perhaps the work is a construction of a “Canada” of coexistence, or perhaps it is one of oppression. I suggest that the image of the Haida canoe stands strong on a fragile paper of settler creation, as a marker of self-representation and Indigenous power during the beginnings of increased recognition of Indigenous art in colonial museum institutions. The medium, pen on hotel stationery, was created to be disposed of, yet this work does the exact opposite of what was intended for it. This drawing, therefore, enacts resistance through its existence. By revealing the complex structures in which Indigenous artists such as Pat McGuire created art during the 1960s, the artist remediates “the master’s tools,” the pen and hotel stationery, through the act of preservation and direct engagement with Haida visual traditions, which foreshadow a future critique of the colonial systems of power that remain dominant today.
Endnotes
[1] “To Be Seen, To Be Heard: First Nations in Public Spaces, 1900–1965,” Museum of Anthropology at UBC, accessed October 8, 2024, https://moa.ubc.ca/exhibition/to-be-seen-to-be-heard/.
[2] It is here that I would like to acknowledge that I am writing this essay on the unceded territory of the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm peoples as a settler. My research aims to amplify the experiences of Indigenous knowledge keepers, scholars, and artists alike, rather than to speak on their behalf.
[3] It should be noted here that the discussions in this essay of “the art world” and market refer to dominant, settler structures of art consumption, exhibition, and dissemination in “Canada” during the 1960s and 1970s. This is done so as to understand more about how the social, political, and economic tensions and histories played a role in the creation of McGuire’s work that is displayed in the Museum of Anthropology at UBC today.
[4] “Patrick McGuire, Haida Artist,” Michaela McGuire, September 12, 2014, https://haidagwaiimuseumcurator.wordpress.com/2014/09/12/patrick-mcguire-haida-artist/.
[5] Duffek. “Value Added: The Northwest Coast Art Market since 1965,” 590.
[6] Duffek. “Value Added: The Northwest Coast Art Market since 1965,” 592.
[7] Aaron Glass. “History and Critique of the ‘Renaissance’ Discourse,” in Native Art of the Northwest Coast: A History of Changing Ideas, ed. Charlotte Townsend-Gault, Jennifer Kramer, and Ḳi-ḳe-in (UBC Press, 2013), 494.
[8] In consideration of scholarship discussing the dominance of the term ‘Northwest Coast’ art, I want to clarify that my focus is on the general geographic area spanning from Tlingit to Coast Salish territories, rather than on a specific artistic style. This approach acknowledges the diverse Indigenous cultures and creative practices present within this region.
[9] Wayne Suttles. “The Recognition of Coast Salish Art,” in S’abadeb (The Gifts): Pacific Coast Salish Art & Artists, ed. Barbara Brotherton (University of Washington Press, 2008), 52.
[10] “Patrick McGuire, Haida Artist,” Michaela McGuire, September 12, 2014, https://haidagwaiimuseumcurator.wordpress.com/2014/09/12/patrick-mcguire-haida-artist/.
[11] Wall text for Pat McGuire, Untitled, c.1962 - 1970, exhibition at The Museum of Anthropology at UBC, Vancouver, To Be Seen To Be Heard: First Nations in Public Spaces, 1900–1965, June 13, 2024 to March 31, 2025.
[12] Nika Collison. “Everything Depends on Everything Else,” in Haida Art, ed. George F. MacDonald (Canadian Museum of Civilization: Douglas & McIntyre, 1996), 65.
[13] Collison. “Everything Depends on Everything Else,” 58.
[14] Collison. “Everything Depends on Everything Else,” 63.
[15] Robin K.Wright, Northern Haida Master Carvers (University of Washington Press, 2001), 6.
[16] Scott Watson. “Art/Craft in the Early Twentieth Century,” in Native Art of the Northwest Coast: A History of Changing Ideas, ed. Charlotte Townsend-Gault, Jennifer Kramer, and Ḳi-ḳe-in (UBC Press, 2013), 350.
[17] Karen Duffek, Bill Reid: Beyond the Essential Form (UBC Press, 1986), 28.
[18] Audre Lorde. "The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House,” in Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches (Crossings Press, 2007).