Carving out a life

Page 2

Some of the most memorable stories in literature feature characters that combine dramatic strengths with tragic weaknesses.

Norman LaRue is just such a character in real life. His story twists from tragedy to triumph and back again - and as yet it has no end.

But things are looking pretty good right now.

As a youngster growing up in the British Columbia Interior, LaRue learned to carve himself toys out of wood - a whistle, a toy gun. Later, working seasonally in northwest coast logging camps, he developed an interest in the sculptural work of nearby Native communities. He took photographs and learned, trying to reproduce the totem poles in miniature.

When LaRue was sent to prison on a murder charge 10 years ago, he turned again to carving as a diversion. Working on small, portable items such as plaques and masks, he eventually discovered a market for the objects he carved. He also met Haida carver Freddie Yeltatzie, who helped him refine his carving skills. He spent three-and-a-half years in jail before mistrials and appeals led to his exxoneration and release.

Several of the Secwepemc carver's masks are in the Kamloops Art Gallery's permanent collection and are on display in several Lower Mainland private galleries.

LaRue also paints, but it is his Northwest Coast-style carvings that recently caught the eye of the Japanese market. Last fall, he was commissioned to create seven totem poles for Big Foot Log Home Industries. The largest has been installed in the vice-president's office in Salmon Arm, while six others will grace company outlets in Japan. And there have been discussions about creating a further 25 for other Japanese sales offices.

This month, Big Foot is taking LaRue on a promotional tour of Japan to promote their log homes and his totem poles.

Each pole takes about four weeks to produce. Working with helper and fellow Secwepemc carver Greg Sylvester, LaRue roughs out the design outside and moves indoors for the finer work.

Totem poles and the necessary tools and debris have taken over part of the yard and the lower floor of his house, which is perched on a dry grassland terrace overlooking the South Thompson River near Kamloops.

"It's a very messy place, but it's my place," he said with satisfaction.

LaRue's totem poles and masks are done in northwest coast style, using symbols from that culture area. The classic profiles of Raven, Frog and Bear emerge, accentuated by the rich golden grain of the cedar.

"This kind of art is not something that was peculiar to the Shuswap people. However, according to [early ethnographer] James Teit, the use of carved objects was beginning to become part of the culture of the most westerly Shuswap people. They had skull masks and beaver masks that were used in their dance ceremonies and rituals. I consider what I am doing now as an extension of what was being done at the time of first contact.

"Most of what I create is meant to be aesthetically pleasing, rather than having any cultural significance," he said, adding that for him the spiritual value is in the creating, rather than in the symbolism.

"I want each one to be the most beautiful thing in the world so I put a lot of care and feeling into each piece."

Carving, and this contract specifically, has given LaRue a means to be self-sufficient.

"When you've lived on social assistance virtually all your life, it provides a fairly good way of eating," he said of his new income.

It is his hope that, in addition to providing a living for himself, he will be able to inspire others.

"I'm not the least bit afraid to say what I have done. I was a thief, an alcoholic, a drug addict, but I never did stop trying to get away from it - and look at me now."

Seated in his living room, the walls display his pride: several of his masks and photographs of his eight children and seven grandchildren. When he gestures to them, introducing them, he exposes his tattooed forearms, evidence of a darker past.

He is candid about the problems tht landed him in prison and on skid row numerous times in his life.

LaRue's life has been punctuated by extreme highs and lows, beginning with the murder of his mother when he was just an infant. His maternal grandparents raised him and his brothers and sisters at Nisconlith until he was removed to the Indian Residential School at Kamloops for his education.

"I suffered the kinds of things that are talked about in the media," he said, adding that he is among more than 50 people named in a group lawsuit against the residential school system.

"I graduated from school right directly into the usual horsepile of alcoholism, poverty, skid row, prison, skid row, prison," LaRue said, gesturing wearily in a circular motion. "Like a lot of my people, I come from a background of alcoholism and prison and I've had to make the best of it."

The unusual thing about LaRue is that he broke out of the cycle several times to accomplish quite remarkable things. He worked as a freelance broadcaster for CBC radio for four years, took a poke at professional boxing, and was instrumental in establishing a free medical clinic in Vancouver's Downtown East side that still exists. He was even elected chief of the Kamloops Indian Band, although the election was contested and he did not run when it was reheld.

But between these high points, LaRue hit lows that threatened to destroy him.

"Each time I would tumble down into that ugly place again and everything would go helter-skelter for me again. There was always something there to knock me down. I didn't realize until recently that it was me. I was the problem."

This time, he said, he won't be making the same mistakes. With the help of AA, his work and a strong group of support people, he intends to avoid making that plunge into despair again.

LaRue's work can be viewed on two websites: www.normanlarue.com and www.ravengirl.com.