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SATURDAY EVENING POST
February 8th, 2025
The term “Regionalism” in Canada has undergone significant transformation from its original usage and understanding, loosely borrowed from American usage, referring to an art movement led by painters such as Thomas Hart Benton, Grant Wood, and John Steuart Curry, who focused on scenes of rural American life that emphasized the everyday of local people, away from European modernism. This “American Regionalism” movement prioritized homegrown subject matter over avant-garde influences. In the 1930s and 40s, Canadian writers and critics picked up the term, where critics seeking to categorize local figurative or landscape-driven art sometimes applied the term “regionalist” to works outside major cultural hubs. This usage often carried connotations of provincialism and sometimes marginalized those artists by framing their art as somewhat removed from international dialogues.
At the same time, policies and institutional attitudes in Canada reinforced or diminished these labels. For example, the National Gallery in Ottawa, historically a major force in shaping Canadian art narratives, grappled with the desire to promote a cohesive national style while also celebrating regional diversity. So “regionalism” created uncertainty within a broader cultural and political dialogue about Canadian identity, especially in the early to mid-20th century, troubling and fuelling debates on whether local art scenes should aim for national cohesion or embrace more localized, even insular, subject matter.
The term has shifted since its initial intended usage, the influence of major and minor art centres within Canda and beyond, and the persistent tension between celebrating local identity and seeking wider international recognition are all contributing to the changes in the significance and usage of the term “regionalism”. Regionalism has empowered artists’ voices, constrained them, and spurred new forms of collaboration, critique, and identity-formation.
The works of the Group of Seven became synonymous with Canadian Art, active mainly during the 1920s and 1930s, Lawren Harris, A.Y. Jackson, and their peers championed a vision of Canadian wilderness. Their works depicted mainly of northern lakes, skies, and forests that achieved national prominence, yet critics have pointed out that this brand of landscape painting largely excluded urban realities and the experiences of Indigenous or ethnically diverse communities. The Group of Seven arguably advanced “regional identity” that paradoxically was held up as a pan-Canadian aesthetic. So for many years, their works of this particular regionalism became the face of Canadian art recognized internationally.
The Group’s success brought global attention to a distinctively Canadian palette and subject matter, reinforcing pride in national landscapes. However, it left other forms of art from different parts of Canada overshadowed. Regions such as Quebec, with its evolving modernist experiments, or the Prairies and Atlantic provinces often found themselves less visible in the national narrative in the early days, making artists outside the Group “regional” artists, whether they were painting urban Montreal streetscapes or figurative images reflecting local communities.
In Quebec, the Eastern Group of Painters formed in 1938 in Montreal showed together until 1950, included artists such as Alexander Bercovitch, Goodridge Roberts, John Goodwin Lyman, and more, whose common interest was making art for art’s sake, arose in part to address gaps left by the Ontario oriented focus. At the same time, the Beaver Hall Group, active in the 1920s, included influential women artists like Emily Coonan, Lilias Torrance Newton, and Prudence Heward, whose portraits and city scenes complicated the presumed rural presentation of Canadian art. Many of these painters showed work at Montreal venues, some of which were later supported by dealers like Max Stern of the Dominion Gallery, who was instrumental in promoting Canadian artists beyond local boundaries.
Historically, many of these Quebec collectives received less immediate national recognition than the Group of Seven. The constant need to break from Toronto’s sphere of influence and champion Quebec’s own trajectories sometimes intensified the notion that Canadian art was fragmented into regions, an idea reinforced by critics who saw each grouping as regionally bound rather than nationally unifying.
By the mid 20th century, David Milne and William Kurelek showcased how “regional” painting was different and personal. Milne’s quiet landscapes and still lifes, often done in rural Ontario or upper New York State, used modernist reductions and idiosyncratic colour choices that defied easy categorization. Kurelek, meanwhile, drew upon his Ukrainian-Canadian upbringing and rural life experiences, mixed with devout Catholic faith to create sometimes haunting, but often quietly celebratory paintings. Critics labelled both men “regional” because their work reflected images stemmed from introspective engagements with local culture, rather than from urban centres or avant-garde movements that closely followed Europe and the U.S.
John Goodwin Lyman was central in founding the Contemporary Art Society in 1939, in Montreal. The organization aspired to connect the city’s artists with the international art scene, championing modernism, resisting the idea that local art was somehow lesser-than and derivative. Their exhibitions featured International and Canadian abstract and figurative works, challenging the orthodox of purely landscape-driven schools. Their activities reflected a Quebec eager to situate itself in a cosmopolitan dialogue, which sometimes put them in conflict with more traditional institutions at the time.
The Contemporary Art Society became a bridge between the traditional and the radical wave of the Automatistes that is bourgeoning, it laid the groundwork for a broader acceptance of experimental art in Quebec, and their efforts highlighted the importance of smaller local infrastructures that are often needed to nurture a new direction.
Quebec’s journey toward modernism took a dramatic turn with the Automatistes. Spearheaded by Paul-Émile Borduas, the group included artists such as Marcelle Ferron, Jean Paul Riopelle, and Pierre Gauvreau, who embraced automatism and surrealist-inspired abstraction. Their 1948 manifesto, Refus Global, not only refused the constraints of conservative Quebec society but also sought to reimagine creative freedom as inherently both local and universal.
![Jean Paul Riopelle, Hommage aux Nymphéas – Pavane [Tribute to the Water Lilies – Pavane], 1954, oil on canvas, 300 x 550.2 cm. Purchased 1963. National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa. © Estate of Jean Paul Riopelle, (Copyright Visual Arts-CARCC, 2023) Photo: NGC.](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/25cb6d_2e79d64b0bd5471b800fb604f24078db~mv2.png/v1/fill/w_980,h_530,al_c,q_90,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_avif,quality_auto/25cb6d_2e79d64b0bd5471b800fb604f24078db~mv2.png)
Fast-forwarding to the 1970s through the 1990s, the Vancouver School gained recognition via artists like Jeff Wall, Ian Wallace, and Stan Douglas, who each employed photography, installation, and conceptual approaches to dissect social and historical narratives. Located on Canada’s west coast, far from the perceived national centre of Toronto, or even international art centres, these artists forged an intellectual and aesthetic identity that quickly found traction internationally. Their success complicates the idea that being geographically peripheral inevitably confines artists.
![Ian Wallace, detail from Abstract Paintings I–XII (The Financial District) [2010], chromogenic print and acrylic on canvas, 244 x 183 cm each. Gift of the artist, Vancouver, 2014. National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa. Photo © NGC.](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/25cb6d_2ff0b9b46ff649b8bf5ab17bd07b2704~mv2.png/v1/fill/w_374,h_500,al_c,q_85,enc_avif,quality_auto/25cb6d_2ff0b9b46ff649b8bf5ab17bd07b2704~mv2.png)
At the same time, in Toronto’s Spadina Avenue corridor, painters such as Gordon Rayner, Graham Coughtry, and Robert Markle were creating what became known as the “Toronto Look.” Drawing on jazz influences, gestural painting, and urban themes, they formed a loose collective aesthetic. Although Toronto was already a major Canadian art centre, their style was still seen by some outside observers as regionally specific, an identity only shaped by the city’s 1960s cultural scene.
London, Ontario’s art community thrived under figures like Jack Chambers, Greg Curnoe, and others who fused pop art, personal iconography, and local commentary. These artists dubbed “London Regionalism,” exemplified the potential of smaller urban centres to become incubators for experimental work. Greg Curnoe’s distinctly local references, such as cycling culture, southwestern Ontario landscapes, and bilingual textual elements, sought to place his region at the heart of his art. However, as a regional artist from London, it took decades for certain artists to gain national museum exhibitions or any international coverage compared to their counterparts in Toronto, Montreal, or Vancouver, making “regionalism” a double edged sword.
By the late 20th century, postmodern theories about place, identity, and power introduced a rethinking of what “regionalism” could mean. Theorists and critics began using “regionalism” to argue that local culture and context need not be seen as parochial. Instead, these elements can generate a rich site for challenging globalized norms, resisting homogenization, and fostering new discourses. In a way, it also helps acknowledge potential for local constraints, not just in Canada, but in smaller cities in the US as well, thinking and engaging actively with the local economy, geography, and audience, without subordinating these locations to larger art centres.
While smaller or remote cities may lack some resources found in New York or Berlin, they also offer unique vantage points, potentially more direct community engagement, and opportunities to develop exhibitions free from certain market pressures. Yet achieving serious critical discourse requires reviewers, curators, and institutions to adapt their evaluative criteria, recognizing that local production doesn’t have to mimic dominant centres to be valuable.
Unfortunately, international critics tend to face difficulty when reviewing exhibitions in smaller cities. They often compare these shows to those in larger art centres, a process which usually results in unfavourable reviews, mainly because the exhibitions can fall short of internationally recognized standards. This leads to the question: do critics simply avoid these exhibitions because they have the preconception that these shows cannot be measured against such towering benchmarks? Failing to review these works contributes to the deficit of rigorous critique in non-art centres, and by doing so, also perpetuates the long-standing battle of “regionalism”. This positioning relegates smaller cities to the periphery and, inadvertently, positions them as less-than.A crucial factor in understanding this dynamic is the difference in organizational and financial structures between Canada and other countries, particularly the United States. As noted in a reflection on Canadian art publishing that Canada presents a unique challenge due to its enormous geographical size and relatively small population, approximately one-tenth that of the United States. A significant disparity exists between the structural organization of the art world in the two countries, stemming largely from funding mechanisms. Canadian arts organizations, including periodicals and blogs, receive public funding, generally through the Canada Council for the Arts. This provides greater access to funding for regional and smaller-city content, particularly when it comes from less represented voices, including Indigenous, French Canadian, and emerging artists. Publications in the US, do not have such public financing, which creates a distinct contrast; in Canada, there is more collective responsibility for cultural content. The Canada Council’s involvement ensures a greater scope for diverse representation, especially for art from outside major cities like Vancouver, Toronto, and Montreal. Nevertheless, large international art trade magazines driven by commercial galleries are not subject to the same funding constraints and have their own focuses towards major art centres. This economic underpinning subtly reinforces the disparity between globally centered cities and smaller regions. Publications have an inherent incentive to focus on art from regions that have established commercial importance, lending further legitimacy to well-established art centres.
In both Canada and the United States, however, a reconsideration of how exhibitions from smaller cities are evaluated could help close this gap. Fewer exhibitions, fewer critical discussions, and fewer international participants create an environment where new ideas circulate less freely. Yet, artists in smaller cities are often free from the overwhelming scrutiny of international attention. This freedom allows them to develop their practices organically without the pressures to conform to large-scale commercial expectations, this positioning of the small cities versus large art centres issue becomes a double-edge sword, it both shelters and isolates.
Within Canada, cities such as Toronto, Montreal, and Vancouver are often viewed as larger art centres, at least regionally. Yet, on the global scale, these urban centres can themselves struggle to garner consistent international visibility, as their galleries or exhibitions may be deemed “small potatoes” compared to those in New York or major European capitals. Even domestically, the country’s vast geography and relatively small population can mean that artists from the western provinces or the East Coast remain unfamiliar to those in central Canada, just as British Columbians may not recognise major figures from Toronto, and vice versa. Publicly funded Canadian magazines, though mandated to cover a broad spectrum of cultural production, do not always champion every gallery and every region.
As a result, even within Canada, many talented artists remain under-recognized, and the cycle persists, and if local audiences and institutions overlook them, how can they possibly attract the notice of the international stage? A regional minded approach can become insular, inadvertently reinforcing rather than dismantling the very hierarchies and biases that keep so-called "regional" artists on the sidelines.
Jack Bush’s well-known decision to seek international validation before obtaining meaningful recognition in Canada highlights the deeply rooted structural biases that have long shaped the Canadian art scene. During the mid-20th century, the notion persisted that real success was to be found in major art centers like New York or London, effectively casting regional contexts as “little leagues.” Bush’s affiliation with influential critics, notably Clement Greenberg, and his exhibitions abroad lent weight to his standing at home, suggesting a cultural hierarchy where international approval conferred legitimacy that local institutions were slower to provide.
This history highlights a serious and broader tension: Canadian artists often had, and still have to “prove themselves” on the global stage before being fully embraced by their country’s collectors and institutions. The prominence and prestige of international art centres, reinforced by high-profile media coverage, centralised auction markets, and curatorial focus, has always been, and still is disproportionately shaping perceptions of value, leaving local artistic talents at risk of being overlooked unless they carried the cape of foreign endorsement.
Yet, the conversation around Canadian regionalism can, and should, evolve beyond the binary of “big league” versus “little league.” In a forward-thinking scenario, validation comes not from looking outward for approval, but from cultivating a dynamic ecosystem in which local creativity is recognised as intrinsically valuable, even as it participates in a broader, interconnected art world.
Ultimately, the question remains: how do we break out of a regionalist mindset that still equates smaller-scale activity with lower value? The answer may lie in encouraging art communities, large and small, to invest in mutual visibility. Curators and critics should adopt more nuanced frameworks for assessing art, seeking out distinctive local qualities without defaulting to fulfilling a “mandate” or flocking to what they know best. Collectors and cultural institutions should broaden their acquisitions and exhibitions to showcase Canada’s diverse cultural tapestry. This involves more than focus on marginalised voices, it means filling historical gaps and discarding parochial, myopic mindsets. This is easier said than done, it requires cultural institutions to hire directors and curators that are willing to go to local galleries, meet local collectors, and do the homework to understand what exactly is missing in their institution’s collection or programming. This is a fundamental element of engaging with a region’s audience and the art community. By actually and actively embracing our multifaceted heritage, we can fulfil Canada’s destiny as a thriving art hub, proving that our artists stand on par with those in leading global art centres. Publicly funded programs can hold themselves accountable for representing the country’s full creative scope, not only to satisfy equity requirements but also to showcase genuine artistic excellence wherever it arises.
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Contact: Farzina Coladon
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