Elaine and Herb are both skilled craftspeople. When we first meet, they bring a collection of artworks to show us. Watercolour paintings of flowers and animals by Elaine; detailed ink drawings of landscapes and ships by Herb. They enjoy the social aspect of our project, always looking for others to draw and paint with. A few months later we gather around their kitchen table to draw together. Elaine uses watercolours, while Herb prefers coloured pens and pencils to draw landscapes from memory—a gravel pit framed by trees. It is a scene he seems to know quite well. Flipping back through the pages of his sketchbook we can see that he has drawn this scene many times over, repeated from memory, again and again.
On the same visit, we learn that Elaine is a skilled seamstress. She shows us a collection of her flawlessly constructed quilts while sharing stories about sewing blue jeans and winter coats. Her sewing studio is immaculately organized, with rows and rows of thread in every possible colour, a work of art in its own right.
Many months later, we meet at the Godfrey Dean Gallery on a cold afternoon in March. Elaine brings a selection of her and Herb’s paintings and drawings, as well as a couple of quilts for the exhibition. Herb’s drawings were mostly done many years ago—some are the same ones we saw on our first visit. I ask if Herb has been drawing recently and Elaine shakes her head. “Not anymore. Not unless someone really encourages him to do it, and it’s been hard to find the time.”
Herb has recently been moved into long-term care, nearly an hour’s drive away from their home in Yorkton. With the responsibilities of day-to-day life, plus this lengthy commute, it is difficult to carve time for art making, despite its importance in both of their lives. Many people in long-term care don’t have the dedicated support to do the things that bring them joy. Family and support staff alike are generally overwhelmed, attending to their basic, everyday needs.
At one point in our meeting, Elaine leaves to grab some more artwork from the car. While she is gone Alana suggests doing some drawing. Herb picks up a coloured pencil and immediately starts drawing. A pine tree, a house, a barn, some grain growing between them.
When Elaine returns she is pleasantly surprised. It has been months since Herb has drawn anything. “I could sit here and draw for another four or five hours,” he responds. He tells us how the door to the barn slides open to the side so he had to extend a beam to make extra space for the door. There is a practicality to the decisions he makes on the page. The results are precise and calculated.
We stay late at the gallery, enjoying the shared space of drawing together. People with progressed dementia often need a quiet and focused environment in which to work on a task such as drawing. They may move more slowly and become overwhelmed with external stimuli such as a group art class. While in this moment Herb didn’t need much encouragement to draw, he did need someone to instigate the idea, to set out materials, and to hold a quiet space.
“If you decide to do a craft together, you’re usually close enough that you can converse with each other, and inspire each other to go a little further…”
– Elaine Berrard
Elaine Berrard, showing one of her watercolours, 2022
