Presentation of the Governor General’s Awards in Visual and Media Arts

Rideau Hall, Wednesday, March 25, 2009

It is such a joy to welcome to Rideau Hall women and men who are among some of the greatest artists of our time.

In this residence, which houses a permanent collection of works by Canadian painters and visual artists from the past and the present, I feel as though my eyes, mind and heart are being filled each day with the genius and beauty of this world.

Thousands of visitors pass through these halls and discover these works of art, including school groups.

I remember one day greeting a group of school children who had come to visit the residence.

Two of them stood apart from the rest and approached the first painting in a series called The Ukrainian Pioneer by William Kurelek, presented in the Reception Room.

I stood back and watched them.

They began by looking at it from a distance.

Then, they moved a little closer, looking at it from left to right, top to bottom.

Finally, one of them stood just inches away from the painting, staring intently at it.

Curious, I could not help but do the same.

When he saw me, the boy pointed out the tear running down the woman’s cheek and told me, “The mother is crying.”

Those children had seen a detail in that painting that I had never noticed before, one that is nonetheless essential to understanding the work better, and one that has undoubtedly gone unnoticed by many others as well.

In their way, those children reminded me that a work of art holds an endless array of possibilities.

That it reinvents itself each time we look at it.

And that to understand its essence, we need to look beyond the obvious, beyond what we know, beyond convention.

I sometimes feel as though we look without seeing, because we are so bombarded by images in our market-driven society, so oversaturated, and at times, downright blasé.

Or as though we remain too often closed off in our own vision of the world, at a time when the world has never been more open, when its possibilities have never been more abundant.

In an age of conformity and one-track thinking, you, our artists, invite us to be like those children who look with their eyes and mind wide open.

The works you put before us make us think and feel.

Ideas begin to form.

Emotions are stirred up.

New connections are made.

Meaning springs forth.

A meaning that is never fixed, but rather continues to evolve as it is imbued with our reflections, our interpretations, our sensibility.

Your language is one of forms, materials, colours, movement, the real and the imagined. Your images speak to us, if only we know how to listen. They question us, surprise us, move us, shake us, often all at the same time.

That, I believe, is where the richness of the artistic experience resides. In that encounter between your unique vision and our own.

When we experience your works, we glimpse some of the truth and humanity that resides in each of us. And our lives are made richer for it.

Since 2007, the fine crafts have also been recognized as part of the Governor General’s Awards in Visual and Media Arts, through the Saidye Bronfman Award for excellence in the fine crafts.

This evening, I would like to applaud that initiative, which stems from a productive partnership with The Samuel and Saidye Bronfman Family Foundation.

To John Greer, who, in his own words, strives to reconcile matter and the mind, who tries to find that elusive balance between illusion and reality, thank you.

To Nobuo Kubota, who, drawing from Eastern and Western influences, sets the stage for dialogue between sound and matter to create a unique language, thank you.

To Kevin Lockau, this wonderful alchemist, who casts glass in a dream, thank you.

To Rita McKeough, who turns the public space into a place of creation, expression and engagement, thank you.

To Robert Morin, whose subjective camera shows us the world within, beneath the surface, unseen and undiscovered, thank you.

To Raymond Moriyama, who turned a war museum into a hymn to peace and a symbol of hope in the heart of the city, thank you.

To Kim Ondaatje and Tony Urquhart, passionate advocates for artists’ rights, particularly the right to be recognized and paid fairly for their work, thank you.

To Gordon Smith, whose journey is amazing, whose work is now rooted in the West Coast landscape and whose brushes paint with its light, thank you.

You open our eyes to a broader, more astonishing and more wonderful horizon.

Without you, our society would lack vision and be less able to explore the depths and richness of matter and the world.

And for that as well, I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.