FUTURE HAVEN

FUTURE HAVEN

FOR OVER ONE HUNDRED YEARS, what we now know as the Yorklands Green Hub, or the Ontario Reformatory lands, has served as a place of hope, where men who were sentenced to ‘two years less a day’ could learn new skills to take with them upon their discharge .This ‘haven’ was created by William Hanna, then Provincial Secretary, who had been voicing his opposition in the legislature for some time on the inadequate prison system in Ontario, claiming that the system ‘released inmates in worse psychological and physical shape than when they entered.’

In 1910 this radical change was brought about by transforming approximately 1000 acres (436 hectares) on the eastern outskirts of Guelph into a farm, with beef and dairy cattle. Hanna did not believe that segregating and punishing convicted people was a positive action, and he transferred inmates from the Toronto ‘gaol.’ to build the farm, ponds, and housing. These inmates were originally billeted in tents, (the lucky ones in the local farmhouses), and were employed to dig the quarry and limestone which was used for the exterior walls of the reformatory. Trees on the land were felled for the interior lumber. Most of the work was done by prison labour gangs, and even after the buildings were completed work gangs crushed stones for the walls of the fields, ponds and gardens. There were never any high prison walls or fences. For the ‘general population,’ there were dormitories. For others, accommodation depended upon their needs, whether in ‘protective custody’ or otherwise.

For a short time towards the end of WWI, and for approximately a year afterwards, the buildings were converted to form a different kind of haven, to accommodate nine hundred convalescing wounded soldiers and re-named the Guelph Military Convalescent Hospital, also known as ‘Speedwell.’ In 1921, when it once again became a correctional facility, a Superintendent’s residence was built on the grounds, followed by a church, hospital and large mess hall. The population varied over the years but held approximately one thousand inmates. The building was the largest medium-security incarceration in Canada. There was always an emphasis on agriculture at the Reformatory; livestock farming and the trades, with a range of shops for industrial training, as it was considered that these skills would help men find work when they were discharged. Work gangs consisting of up to one hundred inmates from trustworthy members of the general population to maintain the gardens, farm and beef plant. Due to the size of the property in the early years, most of the guards were on horseback and armed with rifles. This practice continued until the 1970s.

In 1972, the Ontario Reformatory discontinued the farm and became the Guelph Correctional Centre. The government slowly began to privatize, beginning with the abattoir.

“In civilization, everything begins with art.” Arend Nieuwland

Arend Nieuwland was first hired, in September 1975 shortly after graduating with a BA in Fine Arts from the University of Guelph He was offered the part-time job as Art Director of the Prison Arts Programme at the Guelph Correctional Centre. For the first four years, the programme was only part-time and there were few students. Prior to Arend’s arrival, the operation of the studio was more of a craft centre and so there was little interest on the part of inmates. Originally Arend had planned to go to Teacher’s Training College to qualify as an instructor in schools; however, the training he had received at the parallel institute, the Ontario College of Art, his involvement with the installation of the the Henry Moore collection, and his time in the Fine Arts department at the University of Guelph left him with a desire to work with people such as these inmates, helping them find their true abilities through art. As Arend often said, “in civilization, everything begins with art.” Thus, the old paint-by-numbers boxes and plastic molds with liquid clay from the previous programme were no more, and the idea of ‘making something from nothing’ was instilled in the men. There were still those who wanted to have access to ‘string work’ to make gifts for their girlfriends, and wagons as gifts for their children, but most were excited to explore their abilities.

A couple of years prior to Arend’s arrival at the Correctional Centre a new Recreation Centre had been built, so the space allotted to him was the old recreation area, including the stage. It provided several rooms for a potter’s wheel, a large general arts area for painting, clay and soapstone carving, a leather working area, and Arend’s office, in which many of the students sat and chatted whilst carving or making wagons. Some simply came to be in a quiet space. The students were free to work in any medium within the budget, and if they had a special request and could pay for the materials, Arend would shop for them. He was very enthusiastic about the prospects of the curriculum he planned, as it would be an ‘open studio.’ Inmates could visit for one of the three daily sessions, depending on their status in the facility. Arend’s philosophy of teaching was his own; he made sure that the student did not feel frustrated with the process and was free to work at his own pace, but if students felt a need for assistance, they could ask for help. He wanted them to think and feel, with a sense of soul searching, to touch, manipulate and analyze the texture in different directions. Many came to the art department having never painted or drawn before in their lives, and they often just wanted to sit and watch others, enjoying the quietness of the room. As several of the men told me, it was a place in which they felt safe, and peaceful

With the increase in numbers, Arend needed volunteers who shared his artistic insights and who would concentrate on their own work as an example to the inmate students. I had contacted Arend asking if he could teach me clay sculpting. He agreed, if I was willing to become a volunteer in the art department of the Correctional Centre. This was the beginning of a four-year insight into the place of artistic expression within the penal system, an opportunity sent to me as a gift. There were several other volunteers, and we worked together with the students in that room whilst Arend was constantly working on a painting, sculpture or soap stone carving for which he was well known in local Ontario galleries. The students certainly had a fine mentor!

Arend insisted on being referred by his name rather than ‘Boss’ and the students were addressed by their first names. As a volunteer I was addressed by my first name, and I was always impressed with the politeness of the men. I was highly amused when one of the students on the other side of the room swore (not at me) and another student standing beside me reprimanded him: “there is a lady present!” Arend claimed he created this form of address between students and outsiders as it gave them a feeling of total emotional freedom and a sense of trust. When you consider that, over a period of twenty-six years, he had only one minor incident in the art room—no guards were permitted—I feel he was absolutely right.

As funds were short for the purchase of supplies, Arend managed to acquire many used bedsheets as makeshift canvases. However, the process was a little different from the average canvas. Instead of starting with ready-stretched material, a bedsheet was dropped on the floor in a fairly crumpled manner and then the student selected the acrylic colours he felt he might use. Arend and/or the student then flicked the colours at random onto the sheet and left it to dry until the next day. When the sheet had dried, it was carefully stretched onto a simple frame and placed on an easel. Next was the time for discovery, as the Rorschach-type blotches could be observed in search of images. This process was different for everyone. The students were encouraged to sit in front of their work, to think and feel what they had created. Some became excited; others simply went to work quietly. I remember one interesting example when the student had seen a large cross in the canvas and we thought it was going to be a deeply religious scene but, as more paint was applied, the face of a devil appeared! Another student, a shy and introverted man who had never painted anything before, suddenly saw a coral reef on the sheet, with fish of many kinds swimming freely amongst fronds of weeds. He began to laugh, and soon the laughter turned to frenzied application of paint which ended in tears of delight! His canvas eventually won a prize at the Prison Arts nationwide competition. Some years later, when the painting came up for sale, I bought it. It is still hanging on my wall, a lovely memory of what Arend did for all those students.

As mentioned earlier, the programme was unstructured and open-ended so as many as twenty-five men often turned up for the hourly sessions. Arend also offered another art form to the men whom he felt could cope with the experiment - the making of face molds with plaster of Paris. He explained the process to the men beforehand as it would have been very easy for someone to panic whilst having his face covered with plaster and only two straws up his nose through which to breathe. Firstly, the subject smeared a layer of petroleum jelly over his whole face, covering any facial hair and eyelashes. Then he lay down on a table for the plaster to be applied, slowly. If all went well, and the plaster set before the panic did, then the mask was carefully lifted off the face so the second part of the process could begin. When cleaning the petroleum jelly from the face it was not uncommon to find a few eyelashes and other facial hair missing, but by then most people were smiling. The second stage was less dicey and involved rolling out some clay to about one quarter of an inch thick cut to the size of his face. The clay was then pressed firmly into the mold and allowed to dry. After firing, the finished mask was glazed and fired again, or given a patina. There was a small variation in the clay process—if the artist wished to make a slightly different mask, the clay impression was thrown on the floor before being allowed to dry, thus changing the likeness.

Beyond the walls

Dr. John Walters approached the art department suggesting an audio programme which would involve the students who had chosen to paint in the above manner. The idea was to ask them, as a group, to express their feelings of what they had understood with this unconventional method of painting. They responded that the method had given them a different insight into themselves in becoming more open minded and allowing an acceptance of each other’s differences. The whole process was filmed, and the students were quite overwhelmed with the results as it was shown on Television Ontario [TVO]. Sometime later the Globe and Mail interviewed people in the art department and the work of one student, ‘A.G.’, became the centre-fold of the issue. Several students stood out in the progress they made. One was a dynamic potter, who was bold, strong, steady and very determined. On one occasion, he made a vase, but was not satisfied with it because the walls were too thick. Arend asked if he could intervene to show an alternative, instead of a wasted vase. As soon as the vase was dried to the point that it could be carved, Arend showed him how he could cut into the fired clay and alter it in many kinds of expressive dimensions. The student was amazed, and he continued to use his talents after his release. Another former student-turned artist went on to set up a business on Yonge Street in Toronto, creating one-off illustrations for fridge doors. Yet another, with a great sense of humour, went on to create engaging comic books.

There were quite a few First Nations men in the Guelph Correctional Centre. Their systemic incarceration by the government was distressing and verging on criminal, but they were fortunate enough at the Centre to have support not only from the art classes but also from the Native Sons. This group had their own space in the Centre near the chapel and was eventually given permission to build a sweat lodge in the grounds nearby. Native Sons encouraged the traditional art of the different nations and taught native languages. I remember several men who carved while sitting in Arend’s office, joining in the conversation and appearing not to be concentrating on what they were doing with the wood carving knife. They created beautiful forms, almost as if their hands knew where to cut and caress the wood. Others were painters and followed the traditional art forms and cultural mythology using dynamic colours. There were many Native Arts winners at the Prison Arts competitions, some of their murals have apparently survived the closing of the art department. Some artists were more prolific than others; one man created large wall murals on both public and inmate space. Because he used so much paint, Arend had to find space for him in the chapel where he could use house paint and glue instead of the expensive acrylic paints from the studio. Although many of his murals were destroyed over time, quite a few of his illustrations in the cafeteria survived. He continued to work as an artist after release.

Arend often requested special permission to take students to Toronto to visit art galleries to give them a broader experience of art. Likewise, when students were released, they were free to visit Arend and family and stay for a day or so. A student made a telling statement to me once; he said, “I used to be in the hole a lot but this programme took the aggression out of me.” This is a good example of how the men learned about unknown abilities within themselves.

The Prison Arts Foundation

“Stone walls do not a prison make nor iron bars a cage.”

- Richard Lovelace

A simple Christmas card design competition for prison inmates sparked the establishment of the Prison Arts Foundation in 1969 and its subsequent nationwide programmes for all correctional institutions in Canada. In May 1972, the Prison Arts Foundation was incorporated as a registered charitable organization to promote creative activity programmes in prisons, to recognize the value of such programmes in the rehabilitative process, and to develop the talents and skills of inmates. The following words by Kenneth Lefebvre, Q.C. President of the Prison Arts Foundation, appeared in a preface to the Prison Arts Retrospective 1969-1982, a catalogue compiled from the works of inmate artists in prisons across the country. The Guelph Correctional Centre was very well represented in this exhibit which had excellent television and newspaper coverage. Prisons are made by anything that crushes the human spirit and keeps it from reaching its full dignity as an individual. Conversely a prison can be overcome by anything that liberates the spirit and releases the gifts which each person possesses.

In its thirteen years of existence Prison Arts provided an avenue of escape for the creative talents which are locked behind bars in the many penal institutions of this nation. By encouraging, by exhibiting, by marketing and by instruction, Prison Arts has reached out to and assisted countless fellow humans to free themselves, through the medium of artistic expression, from the constraints imposed by their incarceration. Still, the government cancelled its funding of the arts programme and the Guelph Correctional Centre was decommissioned between 2002 and 2003. It is unbelievable that the government could not see the value of this art programme. It was believed to have reduced recidivism - although I have yet to find statistics to prove or disprove this. Recognition of the Programme In 1978 the Ministry of Corrections awarded Arend Nieuwland the Ontario Ministry of Corrections Plaque, which was presented by the Minister of Corrections, the Honourable Herb Grey, for the development and quality of the programme at Guelph. I remember that Arend responded by saying, “Art is an international language, like laughter and loving,” and that there is a spark of good in every person. In 1982, Arend was the recipient of the Stedman Award granted to the institution for the most submissions of high-caliber art. He also received a cheque from the Prison Arts Foundation for $500.00 for producing the programme and submitting the highest number of award-winning pieces. In 1989, the Guelph Cover of the catalogue for the Retrospective 74 Correctional Centre Arts programme was the winner of the 19th Annual Creative Arts Competition.

Once again, it seems as if by serendipity, that these same hundreds of acres, selected by William Hanna at the turn of the last century to act as a means to improve the lives of many people, should become part of yet another haven.

When I first visited Guelph, around 1984, at which time I did not know of the Correctional Centre, and drove past the entrance with those gentle but memorable stone walls on York Road, I felt a smile inside me at the site of families sitting by a pond, or the waterway, enjoying a picnic.

Many years later, it is still an astoundingly beautiful place in which to walk, picnic, paint and connect to the natural world. It is therefore an ideal space to demonstrate to people the possibilities to learn new skills and adapt to our challenging communal future. To have this space for public use as an indoor / outdoor learning centre, that starts with the indigenous peoples, the settlers, and the reformatory would be inspiring. Protecting our cultural history of learning and adaption, from the walk up the welcoming driveway following the low stone walls, green spaces, trails, water and landscaped areas up to the Administration Building would create a meaningful Heritage Conservation District. The possibility of future festivals, urban garden markets, forestry education, and along with this, the easily accessed pleasure for all peoples, that would give birth to a resilient community on living with climate change during this transitional time, and into a meaningful future.

A sanctuary, a haven. A place for all ages.. Should it not be preserved, we will have lost a gem.

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Prior to the government announcement that the Guelph facility was to be closed, Arend showed a maquette to Ron Graydon, the Assistant Superintendent of Programmes. The twenty-foot male figure was to be cast in metal, entitled REMORSE. Ron Graydon was impressed with the idea and was about to forward the submission to the committee. Maybe there is still time for this memorial.

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”An earlier version of this article appeared in Wellington County History, Vol.34, 2021.” ………………………………………