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Norval Morrisseau, The Canadian Icon,Picasso of the North

Norval Morrisseau, CM (March 14, 1932 – December 4, 2007), also known as Copper Thunderbird, was an Aboriginal Canadian artist. Known as the "Picasso of the North", Morrisseau created works depicting the legends of his people, the cultural and political tensions between native Canadian and European traditions, his existential struggles, and his deep spirituality and mysticism. His style is characterized by thick black outlines and bright colors. He founded the Woodlands School of Canadian art and was a prominent member of the “Indian Group of Seven”. 

One of Morrisseau's early commissions was for a large mural in the Indians of Canada Pavilion at Expo 67, a revolutionary exhibit voicing the dissatisfaction of the First Nations People of Canada with their social and political situation.

Norval is founder of a Canadian-originated school of art called Woodland or sometimes Legend or Medicine painting. His work is influential on a group of younger Ojibwe and Cree artists, such as Blake Debassige, Tom Chee Chee, Leland Bell.

As the sole originator of his "Woodland" style he has become an inspiration to three generations of artists.  In 1978, he was made a Member of the Order of Canada. He was a member of the Royal Canadian Academy of Arts.

In 2005 and 2006, the National Gallery of Canada in Ottawa organized a retrospective of his work. This was the first time that the Gallery dedicated a solo exposition to a native artist.

The National Arts Centre, urban ink co-production, Copper Thunderbird, premiered on the Aboriginal Peoples Television Network (APTN) on Monday, Feb 4th 2008. Norval Morrisseau was honoured with a posthumous Lifetime Achievement Award during the NAAF Awards held at the Sony Centre in Toronto on March 22, 2008.

Solo Show 
1961 Hughes Gallery, London, Ontario
1962 Pollock Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1963 Pollock Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1964 Pollock Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1965 Hart House Gallery at University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario
1965 Galerie Godard Lefort, Montreal, Quebec
1966 Musée du Québec (now renamed Musée National des Beaux-Arts du Québec), Quebec City, Quebec
1966 Galerie Cartier (Co-sponsored by Pollock Gallery), Montreal, Quebec
1968 Art Gallery of Newport (Sponsored by Galerie Cartier), Newport, Rhode Island, USA
1969 Galerie St-Paul, St-Paul de Vence, France
1972 Pollock Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1974 Canadian Guild of Crafts, Toronto, Ontario
1974 The Bau-Xi Gallery, Vancouver, British Columbia
1974 Pollock Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1975 Pollock Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1975 Shayne Gallery, Montreal, Quebec
1976 Pollock Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1976 Gallery 115, Winnipeg, Manitoba
1977 Pollock Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1977 Graphic Gallery, Vancouver, British Columbia
1978 Wells Gallery, Ottawa, Ontario
1978 First Canadian Place (sponsored by the Pollock Gallery), Toronto, Ontario
1979 Pollock Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1979 The Gallery Stratford, Stratford, Ontario
1979 Shayne Gallery, Montreal, Quebec
1979 The McMichael Canadian Collection(Artist in residence),Kleinburg, Ontario
1979 Cardigan/Milne Gallery, Winnipeg, Manitoba
1980 Canadian Galleries, Edmonton, Alberta
1980 Lynnwood Arts Centre, Simcoe, Ontario
1980 Bayard Gallery, New York, New York, USA
1981 Pollock Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1981 Anthony's Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1981 Anthony's Gallery, Vancouver, British Columbia
1981 Thunder Bay National Exhibition Centre, Thunder Bay, Ontario
1981 Nexus Art Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1982 Moore Gallery, Hamilton, Ontario
1982 Masters Gallery, Calgary, Alberta
1982 Robertson Gallery, Ottawa, Ontario
1982 The New Man Gallery, London, Ontario
1982 Nexus Art Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1982 Legacy Art Gallery, Toronto, Ontario
1982 Scarborough Public Gallery, Scarborough, Ontario
1984 Ontario Place, Toronto, Ontario
1984 Ontario North Now, Kenora, Ontario
1985 Norman Mackenzie Art Gallery, Regina, Saskatchewan
1986 First Canadian Place (joint exhibition with Brian Marion), Toronto, Ontario
1986 Manulife Centre, Edmonton, Alberta
1987 Gulf Canada Gallery, Edmonton, Alberta
1988 Sinclair Centre, Vancouver, British Columbia
1989 The Art Emporium, Vancouver, British Columbia
1991 Wallack Gallery, Ottawa, Ontario
1992 Jenkins Showler Galleries, White Rock, British Columbia
1999 The Drawing Centre, New York, New York, USA
2001 Art Gallery of South Western Manitoba, Brandon, Manitoba
2001 Canada House Gallery, Banff, Alberta
2001 Drawing Center, New York, New York
2002 Thunder Bay Art Gallery, Thunder Bay, Ontario
2006 Steffich Fine Art, Salt Spring Island, British Columbia
2006 National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa, Ontario
2006 Thunder Bay Art Gallery, Thunder Bay, Ontario
2006 McMichael Canadian Art Collection, Kleinburg, Ontario
2007 Institute of American Indian Arts Museum, Santa Fe, New Mexico
2007 The George Gustav Heye Center of the National Museum of the American Indian, New York, New York

Over the past 5 years, LIFE Culture Group has already collected  almost 400 pieces original artwork of the iconic Canadian painter Norval Morrisseau, CM (March 14, 1932 – December 4, 2007), “Picasso of the North”. LIFE Culture Group is the biggest collector of Norval Morrisseau.

To promote culture diversification and our ideology, LIFE Culture Group will open LIFE Culture Gallery. The Gallery will be one of the art history research centers of the Woodlands School of Canadian Art.

“My art reflects my own spiritual personality. Driven from birth by the spirit force within, I have always been convinced that I am a great artist. Only the external and commercial society around me which has caused interruptions and deviations to occur has attempted to dictate to me and establish false values and ideals. The path through this maze has not been easy. Now, thirty-five years later, fortified by my grandfather’s spiritual teachings during the first nine years of my life, I make peace with the external world, and I recognize the higher powers of the spirit.

I am a shaman-artist. Traditionally, a shaman’s role was to transmit power and the vibrating forces of the spirit through objects known as talismans. In this particular case, a talisman is something that apparently produces effects that are magical and miraculous. My paintings are also icons; that is to say, they are images which help focus on spiritual powers, generated by traditional belief and wisdom. I also regard myself as a kind of spiritual psychologist. I bring together and promote the ultimate harmony of the physical and the spiritual world.

My art speaks and will continue to speak, transcending barriers of nationality, of language and of other forces that may be divisive, fortifying the greatness of the spirit which has always been the foundation of the Great Ojibway.” 

My education about the art of Norval Morrisseau began in Montreal where I first saw a mural by him at Expo 67, Earth Mother With Her Children. The city was throwing a party for the country’s 100th birthday and had invited the world. The experience was pivotal for me for a couple of symbolic reasons: he, like the mural, is forever gone, and both will always remain in my memory. In his distinctively unique indigenous style, the work celebrated the Ojibway creation story. As one of hundreds of graduating high school students from Manitoba visiting the Indians of Canada Pavilion on Isle St. Helene, there was a disconnect between the honouring of native art and the brutal reality painted by statistics of life on the reserve. Yet Earth Mother With Her Children was magnificent in the daylight and, for me, was the beginning of a seminal period in Canadian art. As a cultural sentinel, Morrisseau stood tall in the art landscape; as an artist he will be remembered for his grand pictorial style. He was to dominate contemporary aboriginal art for over forth years but towards the end of his life, as his mature style and colour moved away from the earth tones, oxides, charcoals and black to violets, blues, greens, yellows, oranges and black; as his fragility became permanent, the strength of the black line became less assertive and emotive.

My previous exposure to the Ojibway mythology painted by Morrisseau made his work faintly familiar, but it was his willingness to share the depiction of secular and sacred stories that was something entirely new. In the lost mural he had illustrated the creation of man and his brother, the bear, outside the Western ideology of a hierarchal patriarchy. The general public at that time was fascinated by the exotically original pictorial style, for no one, with the exception of the ancients who had etched on birch bark, came close to what he had invented.

The original submission for the Pavilion apparently had Mother Earth breast-feeding both a boy and a bear cub, a powerful parable, a telling story of implicit brotherhood with the bear whose bones and teeth are used for healing and are an important part of amulet assemblage. Modernist Judeo-Christian sensibilities may have influenced the private and public opposition to the rigin mural and I base this assumption on personal experience. Morrisseau’s Madonna was outside the heritage, the patriarchal versus matriarchal, it was based on a different belief system. The residential school system, run by the Christian churches was part of an assimilation program that included a ban by Parliament of attendance at Potlatches and Sundances. Such activities were punishable as they were considered a breach of the law, and participation was interpreted to be pagan, worshipping false gods. At the age of sixteen I recall that my mother was obliged to clandestinely find another shaman to give spirit names to my younger siblings as the one she usually consulted had had his medicine bundle confiscated by the RCMP. Hopefully, the mention of such an ugly and dark period can only extract the poison of chauvinism and enhance the healing process.

Morrisseau, the consummate artist, must have been insulted, perhaps resulting in his having Carl Ray complete Earth Mother With Her Children. Both of Morrisseau’s versions were different from the biblical creation narrative. Faithfully, they illustrate the gap between Anishnabe and Christian. It is about how religion can play a significant role in superimposing a norm over a minority identity. My insistence on this tale of Mother Earth is to point out the ambiguities and paradoxes contained within the multilayered symbolism of Morrisseau’s cosmology. Modernity as an ideology is a different fit for an artist like him whose heritage remains so closely connected to non-Western traditions.

Anishnabe stories are about identity, history, spiritual and cultural affirmation. They are about where the Ojibway came from and how they are to behave.

Morrisseau’s 1967 mural with its white-haired mother figure holding the boy as he naturally reaches out for her breast, and the cub facing the same direction as his brother mother is about affirming those values. Its triangular composition had the three figures somewhat suspended, looking east. Were they rising with the sun as in prayer, or was it the resurrection? This ambiguity between his Northern Ojibway traditions and Catholic beliefs, two epistemologies in opposition, are central to seeing the difference between the Earth Mother of creation and the Virgin Mary. Is the legend more intact after having been changed from the original version where the Earth Mother was breast-feeding both? The image of the baby boy and the bear cub with their mother ads initially portrayed would have been the one relayed to Morrisseau.

The Expo 67 theme “Man and His World” would obviously require some gender realignment today, and irony clearly made evident by Morrisseau’s subject, a fertility goddess and her children, while the international exhibition had placed man as the centre of the world. For him, being earth-centred, the idea of the unequal placement of the animals in creation would have been arrogant.

Returning to Montreal as a university student in 1970 was to be another learning experience. After a couple of years and with a dearth of Canadian context in our art history lectures, several classmates and myself formed a seminar group to address our concerns about the issues id identity politics. The result for me was the exploration of Morrisseau’s art in an easy entitled In Search of an Identity. Issues of cultural identity were just beginning to attract serious attention. It turned into a discussion on contemporary aboriginal art, still very much under the radar in this country. Efforts were being made by the government through sociological and cultural affirmative programs to try and meet the demands and needs of a growing population leaving the reserves, the beginning of a Diaspora to the bright lights of the cities where cultural assimilation threatens the multiplicity of identities, the inevitability of the monolithic effects of globalization.

It was in Toronto in 1977 that Jack Pollock first introduced me to Morrisseau. Earlier that year Pollock and Kay Kritzweiser, the art critic for the Globe and Mail, and a few friends had come to the Nation Museum of Man, since de-gendered to the Canadian to the Canadian Museum of Civilization, to view the Western Collection. Denis Alsford, the curator of collections at the museum wanted me to interview Norval, whose work we had just acquired through the repatriation of a collection that included some of his earliest works on birch bark, plywood, kraft paper, and cardboard. The introduction was the start of a long relationship of mutual respect and friendship.

Pollock was so adept at explaining and describing the work of his new discovery that it was infectious. Morrisseau was becoming an art star and by the end of the last millennium he had acquired “supernova status.” SHOWING GREAT GREAT GENEROSITY, Norval agreed to exhibit with me at Jack’s gallery. At the vernissage we looked at each other in nervous bewilderment, amused at the amazing ease and fluency of Jack’s art linguistics. We thought he was the best! Unfortunately, in his efforts to burnish the legend, some of Jack’s words may have portrayed a sad picture; the description of drinking, selling art on the street and the label of being a tattoo basher became a different profile to overcome when discussing Morrisseau’s art. Both Pollock and Morrisseau became major players on the art scene. At the opening, when he would become the centre of attention, Norval would switch to Anishnabe, making the situation awkward, but in effect, establishing a comfort zone for the two of us. He was quick to understand this type of “social” and he quickly learned to hobnob with the best of them. He was regal, charming and polite.

Also, in 1978 the Pollock Gallery organized the famous, or perhaps I should say the infamous tea party. It seemed almost a scripted performance complete with a fascinating cast of characters: shaman, Eckankar master, art critic, curator, apprentice, singer, stewardess, lawyer, model, fashion designer, art dealer and numerous friends, collectors and artists. Norval had decided to throw a garden party in Beardmore, Ontario, and Jack chartered a DC-3 plane to get us there. Two dozen people were aboard feasting on oranges that Jack had injected with vodka the night before and we landed at a remote airstrip at Jellicoe. Here we were in the north, not necessarily anyone’s idea of cottage country, just a typical small community, behind Morrisseau’s house without plumbing, the backyard grass at least two feet tall and clouds of voracious blackflies looking for lunch. It was bizarre, the yellow school bus, the American buffalo nickel, the Royal Crown Derby, a silver teapot, a basket of fried bannock and raspberry tea, all made holistic through ritual and song. To me, it was an early piece of performance art rooted in an artisanal, primordial past.

Morrisseau closed the event with a private personal moment with each invited guest during which he created a specific drawing for each. This was a proud moment for it showed a very important Anishnabe value: to treat a visitor with respect and generosity, for she or he may be travelling through from the spirit world, making our behaviour and etiquette consequential. Those were fun and innocent times.

As a metanarrative, the story of Morrisseau tells of how his cultural practice was given some form of legitimization, an authority against those with the power to disseminate the master narratives. Specificity can be a slippery slope in the politics of aboriginal identity. Too often recognition is given to those who simply reconstruct old stereotypes based on old ideas stemming from colonialism. As a powerful cultural figure Morrisseau fits into a national norm, a master narrative, a master scroll.

Postmodern theory depends on maintaining a skeptical attitude. Incredulity towards a metanarrative, like cultural practices outside the national norm, is often undergirded by the premise that the withholding of recognition is a form of oppression. Discussing a work of art that draws attention through its mixture of historical period and ideological implications is often mired in rhetoric. Imagine feeling that the moment when you speak, someone else has spoken for you. Or that when you hear others speaking, you are only going to be the objects of their speech. Imagine living in a world of others, a world that exists for others, a world made real only because you have been spoken to. The first peoples of this land are not ethnic and they require a temple that respects their indigenous voice like that of Morrisseau.

These are some of the fault lines of multiculturalism, a Rubik’s cube made more disorienting as the West sees the fragmentation of its once relatively homogeneous artistic environment. An exhibition held in Paris at the Centre Pompidou in 1989 entitled Les Magiciens de la terre included the work of Morrisseau, the sole painter representing Canada, placing him in the forefront of a new global-overview. Morrisseau, the revolutionary, was in Paris for the bicentenary of the French Revolution; it was an occasion of magic and history. Paradoxically, rhetoric draws attention to what we want to avoid. Is Morrisseau’s progressive emancipation from redemption to utopia an incredulous metanattative? His body of work is etched in the nation’s imagination, bt there are always distoring effects from the projection of a grand, national narrative.

Only recently would we have seen him looking in from the outside. The masternarrator, one of the most compelling visual innovators of this country, will always be a national icon. His lost mural is an oblivion used to highlight a concern about the care and attention paid to his art. Its demise should be interpreted as a caution in the impending deterioration of yet another important body of work, his delicate handwritten manuscripts at the Indian Art Centre in Gatineau. They are threatened by a lack of archival and museological attention. Their maintenance is critical in giving credibility towards his national recognition. If his art is part of the national story, then value must be given to it. Its specificity may be an uneasy fit but it is a national patrimony.

The historical backdrop of Earth Mother With Her Children was like any other window dressing that takes place when inviting the world into your home. However, it was the story being told inside the Expo pavilion that connected that issues of identity and recognition. The postcolonial claim that all people on earth have the right to the same material and cultural well-being was put to a reality check. Inadvertently for the country, it was to display that the world, then and now, is a world of inrquality and that the division between those colonized and the national narrative had already been made fairly absolute in the nineteenth century through the Land Treaties and the Indian Act, which resulted in the complete control of the Canadian land surface let alone the sub-surface.

Great artists influence society. They transform a nation the way the Automatistes did in establishing a new art direction for Quebec and the way the Group f Seven, centered in Ontario, crested a landscape tradition art history with his indigenous art form that came from the Canadian Shield. Its pictographs and petroglyphs have extended our dialogue, our history.

Morrisseau lived a complex, paradoxical identity: male/female; shaman/warrior; sexual/androgynous; abstinence/addiction; spiritual/secular; generous/selfish; worldly/tribal; delightful/mischievous; Thunderbird/Misshipeshu. His life and art were uniquely and unequivocally connected from his family as a father and a grandfather created an even more dramatic and emotional dimension as his stature grew.

Morrisseau and I spoke the same language, so the evoking of any cosmological demi-god such as uhdesokun, a Thunderbird, was always a learning experience for me as it had been forgotten or superimposed through baptism. His visual translation was a radical departure from traditional practice. His challenge of to whom Anishnabe stories could be told to came from a vision and a dream. It was a significant cultural trajectory on totalitarian prohibition, one of his most important achievements, that Morrisseau had unshackled the chains of tribal tradition.

Morrisseau changed the way of seeing, transforming art through colour sensation and perception. Redemption and shamanism were to become critical buttresses to the foundation of his visual language and as a cultural warrior he stayed resolute to his vision and his desire to create a new library of learning from the ancient teachings.

Morrisseau, with his vision, his path, his choice and his art, remained linked to the language of mythology and cosmology. Language, sound and meaning, the natural order, the supernatural, inseparable and indissoluble, a window to memory, is the technique of orally handing down a narrative. Language is the listener’s recollection, the history affecting the meaning through association and suggestion. Memory and language, speaking and hearing its specific cognitive conceits codified to represent time and space, its rhythmical and syntactical structure transcending the ways of resolving the opposition between unity and multiplicity translate the oral to an image, becoming the unifying creative conduit for the human spirit. His black formlines had been left by those who lived north and south of the Great Lakes, iconic images made modern and secular, their narrative and figurative approach to myth and history intact. The desire to connect to what has been orally handed down was strong.

The art of Morrisseau is part of the larger public domain that others can copy, the Xerox, the reproduction, the Internet, a concept he never had problems with. His modern parables associated with ceremony and ritual were not blasphemous outside tradition. The rules had become seriously oppressive. His valiant reaction was to change everything and shockingly, he succeeded through his intellect, his courage, his power, his gentle wisdom and defiance. The straightforward portrayal of sexuality found in Anishnabe lore was unbending. He knew the riddles of superstition, the contradictions in scholarship, and the sophistries in theology. His art is outside the anthropological laboratory of ethnographic data. His public understood the radical move to making history. He drew and painted the revolt.

The creative spirit of Copper Thunderbird would continue to guide him through his long artistic career. His insistence on the validation of the old way was expressed right up to the last time we spoke about his paintings at Kinsman Robinson Galleries in Toronto around 1990, where he said that they had healing properties. His paintings are inhabited with colourful images about demi-gods. He knew the ancients had left something wonderful, something healing. He triumphed despite great odds. Art with its many gifts can demand a lot from an artist, especially from his body. Shamanism and Morrisseau’s work is a complex matrix, often obscured by social and cultural constructs about him and his art. He didn’t care about polemical definitions and discursive discourses; authority lay in his art, his vision, his medicine. Many may want to “fit” his art, annex it to the larger story, and liberate it from marginalization and exclusion. Painting for him became a verification of mutual existence, constructed and formulated to convey in identity completely intermingled with the past and the present. Its virtual and conceptual space invented by colour and content, and its inner space of perception where mythology and reality are interchangeable, and its unstable perception that gives a critical organic catalyst to how space in the imagination is preserved.

Morrisseau paintings are like paradigms, viewpoints, methodologies, paradoxical complicities of potent critique and resistance. Copper Thunderbird, a demi-god of the upper world, the place of the uhsokun, the place of the guardian, located his paintings outside the flawed matrix of context. They are somewhere between cultural salvage operation and romantic reconstruction. The baggage of destabilization, authenticity and contamination are obscuring in understanding their creative source. It can get tangled in the complex postmodern literature on “otherness” and through the prism of cultural vulnerability, demise and proclivities, the magic of the contemporary shaman can still be felt.

It is an honour to have known him. As a fellow Nish artist, he was warrior who led a coup on cultural apartheid; his dominance made him a true barometer of critical resistance and provided an excellent opportunity to have a dialogue about what kind of painting or sculpture to make and how to have them represented. Remaining aloof, Morrisseau’s presence continued to be a catalyst for a conversation on the community’s cry for justice and equality. In concluding, I want to acknowledge the Anishnabe people for having shared their son, a great soul, who in the words of an elder at the Native Canadian Centre the night a pipe was smoked to help him reach his destiny, was someone we see only every eight hundres years. I stand here, proud and inspired. Meegwetch. Thank you. Merci bien.

Robert Houle is a member of sandy Bay First Nation, Manitoba. He is an artist, curator, educator and writer currently living in Toronto, Ontario.

The text was originally read at Norval Morrisseau’s memorial at the National Gallery of Canada.

诺瓦尔·莫里桑(Norval Morrisseau)-----北方的毕加索

诺瓦尔·莫里桑(Norval Morrisseau --1932年3 月14 日— 2007年12月4日),人称铜雷鸟(Copper Thunderbird),加拿大知名艺术家,被誉为"北方的毕加索",也是加拿大勋章获得者。其创作作品带有强烈的神秘主义色彩,主要描绘了民族传奇人物,加国与欧洲紧张的文化政治局势,自身生存斗争等,反映了深层次灵魂性的思考。作品风格特征多以厚黑色线条勾勒搭配以鲜艳明亮的色彩。莫里桑而后创办了加拿大Woodlands艺术学校,同时也成为了加拿大"七大印第安艺术家集团"的重要成员之一。 


诺瓦尔·莫里桑不仅是加拿大原创艺术学校(Woodlands)的创始者,也是Woodland/Legend / Medicine绘画手法的发源人。他的作品意义深厚,源远流长,影响了很多在奥吉布瓦和克里年轻的艺术家,例如布莱克·蒂巴斯基(Blake Debassige)、 汤姆(Tom Chee Chee)、 利兰·贝尔(Leland Bell)等。

作为"Woodland" 画派风格的唯一鼻祖,诺瓦尔·莫里桑启迪了三代艺术家的灵感与创作。 1978年,他被授予了加拿大荣誉勋章并且成为了加拿大皇家艺术学院的成员。

在2005和 2006年,加拿大国家美术馆为其在渥太华举办了大型作品回顾展。这是加拿大国家美术馆首次为原住民艺术家举办的个人画展。

除此之外,由国家艺术中心、 都市水墨联合出品, “铜雷鸟”于2008 年 2 月 4 日星期一在原著民电视网络 (APTN)首映。其后,诺瓦尔·莫里桑于2008年3月22日在多伦多索尼中心举办的NAAF颁奖仪式中被追授终身成就奖。


1961 Hughes 艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省伦敦市
1962 Pollock艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1963 Pollock艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1964 Pollock艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1965 Hart House多伦多大学艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省
1965 Galerie Godard Lefort艺术展览馆, 加拿大魁北克省蒙特利尔
1966 Musée du Québec艺术展览馆 (现更名为 MuséeNational des Beaux-Arts du Québec国家美术学院), 加拿大魁北克省魁北克市
1966 Galerie Cartier艺术展览馆 (由Pollock 艺术展览馆共同主办),加拿大魁北克省蒙特利尔
1968 Newport艺术画廊 (由Galerie Cartier艺术展览馆赞助), 美国罗得岛州纽波特
1969 Galerie St-Paul艺术展览馆, 法国阿尔卑斯省圣保罗
1972 Pollock 艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1974 Canadian Guild of Crafts艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1974 The Bau-Xi Gallery艺术展览馆, 加拿大不列颠哥伦比亚省温哥华市
1974 Pollock艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1975 Pollock艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1975 Shayne 艺术展览馆, 加拿大魁北克省蒙特利尔
1976 Pollock 艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1976 Gallery 115艺术展览馆, 加拿大曼尼托巴省温尼伯市
1977 Pollock 艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1977 Graphic Gallery艺术展览馆, 加拿大不列颠哥伦比亚省温哥华市
1978 Wells Gallery艺术展览馆,加拿大安大略省渥太华
1978 First Canadian Plac艺术展览馆 (由Pollock 艺术展览馆赞助), 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1979 Pollock艺术展览馆,加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1979 The Gallery Stratford艺术展览馆,加拿大安大略省斯特拉特福特市
1979 The McMichael Canadian Collection艺术展览馆,加拿大安大略省克兰堡
1979 Cardigan/Milne 艺术展览馆, 加拿大曼尼托巴省温尼伯市
1980 加拿大艺术展览馆, 加拿大阿尔伯塔省埃德蒙顿
1980 Lynnwood 艺术中心, 加拿大安大略省锡拇科市
1980 Bayard 艺术展览馆, 美国纽约
1981 Pollock 艺术展览馆,加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1981 Anthony's Gallery艺术展览馆,加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1981 Anthony's Gallery艺术展览馆, 加拿大不列颠哥伦比亚省温哥华市
1981桑德贝国家展览中心, 加拿大安大略省桑德贝
1981 Nexus 艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省
1982 Moore艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省汉密尔顿市
1982 Masters艺术展览馆, 加拿大阿尔伯塔省卡尔加里
1982 Robertson艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省渥太华
1982 The New Man艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省伦敦市
1982 Nexus Art Gallery艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1982 Legacy 艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1982 世嘉堡公立艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省世嘉堡市
1984 Ontario Place艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1984 Ontario North Now艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省肯诺拉
1985 Norman Mackenzie艺术展览馆, 加拿大萨斯碦彻温省里贾纳
1986 First Canadian Place 艺术展览馆 (同Brian Marion共同展出), 加拿大安大略省多伦多市
1986 宏利金融中心,加拿大阿尔伯塔省埃德蒙顿
1987 Gulf 艺术展览馆, 加拿大阿尔伯塔省埃德蒙顿
1988 Sinclair中心, 加拿大不列颠哥伦比亚省温哥华市
1989 The Art Emporium艺术展览馆, 加拿大不列颠哥伦比亚省温哥华市
1991 Wallack艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省渥太华
1992 Jenkins Showler艺术展览馆, 加拿大不列颠哥伦比亚省白石镇
1999 Drawing Center绘画中心, 美国纽约
2001 South Western Manitoba艺术展览馆, 加拿大曼尼托巴省布兰登
2001 Canada House Gallery艺术展览馆, 加拿大阿尔伯塔省班芙
2001 Drawing Center艺术中心, 美国纽约
2002桑德贝国家展览中心, 加拿大安大略省桑德贝
2006 Steffich Fine Art艺术展览馆, 加拿大不列颠哥伦比亚省盐泉岛
2006 加拿大国立艺术展览馆, 加拿大安大略省渥太华
2006桑德贝国家展览中心, 加拿大安大略省桑德贝
2006 McMichael Canadian Art Collectio艺术展览馆,加拿大安大略省克兰堡
2007 美洲印第安艺术博物馆, 美国新墨西哥州圣菲
2007 The George Gustav Heye Center美洲印第安艺术博物馆,美国纽约