Artist stays true to authentic creations

Although his eyesight no longer allows him to produce his extraordinary works of art, Gordon Waindubence of Sheguiandah First Nation will long be revered as a master carver. During a highly productive period in the 1980s, he fashioned over four hundred finely detailed pieces, many destined to become collector's treasures.
Today his intricate wood and ivory creations are on display at the Museum of Civilization in Hull, Quebec, the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto, Lillian's Museum in M'Chigeeng and in numerous private collections in Canada and overseas.
Recently, the Manitoulin Elder presented a slide show and lecture on his carving legacy at the Ojibwe Cultural Foundation (OCF). Although it has been twenty years since he set down his tools, he has contributed a remarkable body of work that cannot be duplicated and set high standards for those who would follow in his craft.
Like many artists, Waindubence faced many hurdles in his youth and experienced many setbacks. And like many other creative individuals, he eventually discovered that art was a vehicle for self-examination and personal growth. Today, he freely shares the struggles he went through as a young man searching for meaning and a sense of purpose.
"In the 1970s, I worked in the mines in Sudbury for seven years or so," he told the OCF gathering (July 24, 2008). "At that time I was in a different lifestyle; you wouldn't have wanted to know me back then. You needed alcohol to work in the dark, wet mines."
However, two significant life events would serve as a wake-up call and lead him to sobriety. The birth of his youngest son inspired him to make some positive changes. Also a catastrophic mine accident left him shaken and searching for answers.
"There was a rock burst at the mine; people tried to hide under the scoop tram to avoid being hit by rocks the size of this building," he recalled. "I lost friends; they didn't have a chance. I'm glad they went quick."
By 1979, he had left his work in the mines and embarked on a phase of intensive soul-searching. At first, he sought guidance from a mentor in Manitoba and during the next few years he would find helpers in Saskatchewan and Alberta as well. He listened to the stories; he immersed himself in the ceremonies and he received many gifts along the way.
"I had no identity at that time," he confided. "I didn't know who I was. In fact, I was just roaming around and I didn't know what I was looking for. It is really hard to find yourself."
During his spiritual quest, he was introduced to carving in 1981 by one of his mentors. Over the course of four days he watched and listened as the Elder shared his knowledge. Although it was not readily apparent to him at the time, he would soon perceive that a new path was opening up for him.
"I came to realize that the most valuable gifts come from the heart," he said. "The man had promised to give me a gift that no one could take away from me."
Gradually, he began to get his bearings and to this day he often meditates on the teachings shared with him during those troubled times. For him, it is very important to listen to as many different advisors as possible in order to learn and grow.
"I had six mentors over the years and they have all passed on," he said. "But I can still hear them."
Wood seemed to speak to him early on. Another prairie friend engaged his help to cut truck loads of wood to take to a sweat lodge. In the process of harvesting trees, Waindubence learned to use timbering equipment such as chain saws and grinders. His friend showed him how to visualize images in a tree and fashion a rudimentary totem pole.
"The one I made was pretty darn rough," he laughed. "I wanted to take it home, but I couldn't. So I gave it away."
He remembers experimenting with carving in the early 80s and giving away the first twenty five pieces he made. His philosophy hasn't changed much over the decades. He still believes in giving it away, his gift, his knowledge, his hope. He has spent time in prairie prisons offering guidance to inmates serving life sentences and introducing them to the ceremonies. And he often counsels youth who are in conflict with the law and tries to steer them on the right path.
"We have to give people breaks," he said. "If we don't, they take the long way around. As one of my mentors told me, the road you cannot see runs between the mind and the heart. It might take you a very long time to see where you belong in the circle of life."
His first totem pole may have been "rough" in his estimation, but over the years he honed his skills in both wood and ivory.

Before long he had gained a reputation for remarkably polished and refined artworks. During the 1980s he journeyed to Hudson's Bay to hunt Narwhal whale with some friends. He described an outing in a huge freighter canoe which netted a five foot tusk that would provide the foundation for one of his most memorable pieces.
Carving is a physically and mentally challenging art practice. To achieve the fine detail that characterizes his work, one needs excellent eyesight, a steady hand and extreme patience. Viewers still marvel at the finesse required to sculpt everything from intricate flowers and fish scales to tiny dancers and warriors. How did he possibly carve the miniature teeth in the narrow mouths or the realistic ribs in the bear figures? To say the work is labour intensive is putting it mildly.
"When you work with ivory and bone, you have to get past the smell," he said. "You have to have proper ventilation and proper lighting. And then you have to cross your fingers (and toes, and eyes) to ensure that it doesn't get broken."
Most of his artworks are very fragile and need to be handled with extreme care. Only by holding them up and turning them, can the viewer fully appreciate the extent of the detail and precision. Every one is unique right down to the specks of dried blood on the antler or the bone. To cope with the demands of carving, he often worked on several pieces simultaneously. For instance, he would shape a fish and then set it aside for a while and go on to chisel a serpent or a turtle image elsewhere. As with all great art, there is an element of magic involved in the process. If he sets a project aside for a few weeks, he may find a new image calling to him when he returns. He's always surprised when people want to buy the carvings even before they are finished.
Undoubtedly people are attracted to his work because it is completely original and in harmony with nature.
"I always aim to leave things the way they are and retain the natural shades," he said. "I don't use shellac because that would turn yellow. And I don't use preservatives, just elbow grease."
In addition to being an exquisite craftsman, Waindubence is also an inventor. He has been forced to make his own tools and modify others for the detailed work in his sculptures.
He has set aside his tools, but he has never set aside his desire to help others. For example, the Manitoulin Elder assisted with the building of a roundhouse in his home community of Sheguiandah in 2003. He oversaw the milling of 40,000 board feet of cedar for the structure. In 2005, he led a ceremony during which traditional sacred pipes from the Métis Nation of Ontario and the Anishinabek Nation were brought together. And in 2006, he served as the regional Elder for the Union of Ontario Indians and provided guidance to the youth Action Alliance of Manitoulin in their campaign to teach First Nations youth about traditional tobacco uses. Then in 2007, he gave an official Eagle staff to the Métis people of Ontario. In 2008, Waindubence continues to share his life experiences and Midewiwin protocols at youth and Elder gatherings as well as healing and wellness conferences.