Artist Captures Resilience of Holocaust, Indigenous Survivors in New Exhibit

A new art exhibit titled They Didn’t Know We Were Seeds, by Saskatoon artist Carol Wylie, showcases the resilience of Holocaust survivors alongside Indigenous survivors of residential schools. The exhibit, which is on display at St. Thomas More College on the University of Saskatchewan campus until September 19, 2023, comprises a series of large-scale painted portraits that aim to highlight shared experiences of trauma and survival.

Wylie’s journey began during a 2016 Holocaust memorial service, where she listened to a survivor recount his harrowing experiences in a Nazi death camp. This moment prompted her to embark on an ambitious project that would ultimately include both Holocaust and residential school survivors. During a community Passover service, a rabbi’s reminder to acknowledge the struggles of Indigenous communities resonated with her. Wylie discovered that residential schools in Canada had been referred to as “the final solution” long before the Holocaust.

In creating this exhibit, Wylie emphasizes that the objective is not to compare the two experiences but to recognize the shared humanity in their pain and the methods of oppression used against both groups. “Families were separated, names were replaced with numbers, hair was cut or shorn away — each designed to dehumanize,” she explained. Over a span of three years, Wylie painted 18 portraits, featuring nine Holocaust survivors and nine residential school survivors. The choice of eighteen carries significance in Jewish culture, linking to the word chai, meaning life, which Wylie intended to symbolize hope.

Each portrait reflects the unique story of its subject. For instance, Bill Glied, a Holocaust survivor, frequently returned to Auschwitz with educational groups, leading them along the path to the memorial site. Wylie found his commitment to educating others about the past deeply inspiring.

In contrast, Wylie encountered residential school survivors locally. Cecile Smith, a school secretary, became her first subject and connected her with others, including Eugene Arcand, who insisted on including a class photograph in his portrait. Wylie noted that some survivors shared their stories while others chose not to, and she respected their decisions, opting to focus on their energy and presence instead.

Wylie’s artistic process involves visiting her subjects to sketch and photograph them once they have relaxed. “People are tense at first,” she said, “but if you give them time, you get their real face.” Some portraits incorporate text fragments from the survivors’ own words, while others feature visual symbols. For instance, red bars along the edges of residential school portraits acknowledge the ongoing crisis of missing and murdered Indigenous women.

The exhibit’s impact has extended beyond the art itself. Families of the survivors have seen photographs of the portraits, and many have responded positively. Wylie acknowledges the sensitive nature of her work, particularly as a non-Indigenous artist representing Indigenous survivors. To navigate this, she consulted with Indigenous advisers, shared honorariums with survivors, and ensured that the works were smudged before their public display. “I try not to tell their stories — this is more about the experience we shared together,” she remarked.

The portraits were first unveiled in Yorkton in 2019 after three years of painting. They have since traveled to major galleries across Saskatchewan, as well as to Vancouver and Edmonton. Wylie described a particularly moving installation at the Mann Art Gallery in Prince Albert, created by curator Marcus Miller, which allowed viewers to encounter each face in a meaningful way.

As the exhibit continues, Wylie plans to return the portraits to the survivors or their families. Tragically, some of the survivors have already passed away, underscoring the urgency of preserving these stories. “These portraits are archival — they should last for hundreds of years. Once those firsthand stories are gone, it’s so much easier to deny that it happened,” she noted.

Wylie’s goal is to create a lasting presence that transcends mere testimony. “There’s an old expression that you never truly die until the last time somebody speaks your name,” she said. “If these last for a thousand years and families are still talking about them, then that person is never really gone.”

The exhibit invites viewers to confront the painful histories of both Holocaust and residential school survivors, while also fostering a connection grounded in shared experiences of resilience and hope.