Artist On Board

Sketch by David Collier

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Hamilton-based cartoonist David Collier is the creator of the acclaimed Collier’s series and Just the Facts, both published by Drawn & Quarterly. In April, Collier took part in the Canadian Forces Artists Program, a storied project that invites Canadian artists to witness and document the military’s day-to-day operations.

The tradition of Canadian war art began during the First World War, with the creation of the Canadian War Memorial Fund in 1916; it was resumed during the Second World War with the Canadian War Records Program in 1942. In 1968, it was revived as the Canadian Armed Forces Civilian Artists Program (CAFCAP), which ran until 1995, when it was cancelled due to budget cuts. The initiative was re-launched in 2001 as the Canadian Forces Artists Program. Collier spent two weeks aboard the patrol frigate HMCS Toronto, where he observed navy drills in the waters off Newfoundland. What follows are his written and sketched impressions of that mission.

Day 4

Before I left home, a friend asked me what the military gets out of sending a cartoonist on a mission with them. What is this whole “war artist” thing about, he wanted to know. First off, my little secret is that when I think of peers I aspire to be like, I set my sights high, to the best Canadian fine artists of my generation — people like Andrew Hunter, Julie Doucet or Robert Hamilton. The work of this cohort is more likely to be found in some rarified gallery than in the pages of your local newspaper.

So then if you work from the basis of my being some kind of fine artist — and this may be wishful thinking on my part — my deployment with the military is hardly without precedent. In fact, having artists in the field with the forces is something of a Canadian tradition.

It was the Ontario-born Max Aitken — later to become Lord Beaverbrook — who created the prototype for the war artist, of which I am now a distant echo. In a fashion that befits his larger-than-life figure, Beaverbrook set up the War Memorials Fund during the First World War in reaction to what he felt was unjust British press censorship on reports from the front. Having artists document what they saw was Beaverbrook's way of getting the truth out.

In the process, an impressive group of artists, including Arthur Lismer, F.H. Varley, A.Y. Jackson, James Wilson Morrice and Thurston Topham, were able to position themselves between the average Canadian and the citizen soldier. This Canadian initiative — which was adopted by other countries towards the end of the war — was revived in 1942 under the stewardship of Vincent Massey, another strong political force.

Again, the war artists captured the imagination of a public hungry for information about military life. The career of Alex Colville was famously, almost mythically, launched during a war artist stint that culminated with a mission to the horror of Bergen-Belsen with the death camp's liberators. Given the unique place the war artist program has in Canadian history, it's hardly surprising that there have been attempts to carry on the tradition.

Despite attracting the likes of the talented John Scott, the civilian artists program that ran between 1968 and 1992 was largely met with indifference by people outside the military. In 2002, there was again interest in reviving the artists program. I was part of a competitive selection process for this volunteer civilian position.

Now again, there is a sense that the program is in trouble. My cohort Andrew Wright tells me that the Forces website that lists the names of all 21 of the current artists has been taken down, and I've heard that insurance issues have stopped the practice of sending artists overseas. Out of frustration, I joined the reserves, but part-time soldiers have insurance issues as well. Reservists, the insurance industry has dictated, can't fly aboard the military's basic transport, the ancient Hercules aircraft.

It seems fitting that my mission is aboard a ship named after Canada's largest city. Our mess, where we sleep, is on a corridor named Eglinton Avenue; the office we artists have been given is on Bay Street.

As I drew a crew fixing the aft radar, I thought of how most of Canada's population now lives in the shelter of cities. And I was glad that there are good people trained for whatever comes up.