Mia Weinberg, President of the Canadian Art Representation, phoned me on June 17th, saying I had
been awarded the Atlin Centre Scholarship and did I want to go? I didn't even think before I said YES. I
had been working non-stop at my computer and was dying to get outdoors. Atlin, I knew, was gorgeous
northern wilderness and a place I could work on the environmentally based projects I wanted to do.
I packed my camera, a few pens, a sketchbook, a needle and some thread. No other art supplies. If I
needed them there was an art supply store there, but my plan was to make art with what my hands
touched, what was around me, nothing else.
Gernot Dick, the founder and director of the Atlin Centre, greeted us at the Whitehorse airport. Our
group consisted of a dozen arts professionals and people who taught art or had even founded their own
art centres; highly skilled and talented people who needed time to make their own work. Intellectually
strong and articulate, I appreciated being around these generous personalities, and made deep friendships
with some.
Gernot immediately set the pace of the program with assignments and critiques. I balked. I was there to
work on my own projects and didn't want or need to be "taught". But I went along with what was
happening for the sake of harmony and a keen interest in getting to know the other participants. I' m glad
I did.
I found Gernot to be a unique motivator. He pushed everyone equally hard, but seemed to sense exactly
what someone needed and when. He knew how to be gentle or provocative, to encourage, to point out
and praise, and how to let someone be. Not having been in a critique for years, and remembering how
dismal they were at school, it was a delight to see how each student grew with his guidance. And as the
"students" were gifted teachers themselves, the combination of well-articulated ideas and precisely
thought out counter-arguments was enervating. I took notes: I wanted to remember how these sessions
worked.
His assignments only lasted the first few days. They were meant as a jump-start -- a fast, get-down-to-it
momentum builder. Within four days we were to present a written concept of what we wanted to
accomplish or pursue in our time there. Then we were on our own. Early morning information circles and
evening crits kept the pace. We also, of course, had to fit in inspiring mountain hikes and boat trips, the
beauty of which made me fall into a state of rapture.
In a way, going to the Atlin Centre is like going back in time. There are no computers at the Centre, no
library, no radios. But there is a reason for this. Gernot's philosophy is that as artists, we have to learn by
our own discoveries, we have to respond with our own senses to the vibrant world around us, and we
have to trust those responses. We didn't need pre-digested information, we needed our own guts. It was a
huge relief to be free of electronics for a while, and a strong feeling of exhilaration filled my heart as each
day I worked outdoors, listening to the trees, the birds and the wind.
Exploring the eighteen-acre campus I saw everyone actively engaged. People worked inside and out,
testing out materials and trying experiments. Above all, the Atlin Centre is a place for art, a place where
the need to make art isn't questioned or denied but is entirely, absolutely validated. And that is rare.
I was planning to close this by saying I wouldn't recommend The Atlin Centre if nature leaves you cold.
It was the shared passion for the environment and the magnificence of the wilderness -- which made the
experience so wonderful. But, on second thought, I would recommend it for the most die-hard city
dwellers. You'd have a breakthrough. You couldn't possibly come to the Atlin Centre without feeling its
energy right through your bones.
Diana Lynn Thompson
Diana Lynn Thompson is a professional artist and member of CAR. In 2001 she was awarded the Atlin
Centre Scholarship given to a CAR BC member each year.
Return to Testimonials
& Write-ups |