Bear Horne
A Lifelong Craft: The Artistic Journey of a W̱SÁNEĆ Carver
In this inspiring interview, we delve into the life and artistry of talented W̱SÁNEĆ artist Bear Horne, whose work is deeply rooted in family tradition and community. From a young age, he was surrounded by a lineage of skilled carvers, including his father, Doug Lafortune, a Master Carver, whose influence continues to shape his work today. His journey is not just a career, but a lifelong passion that he intends to carry forward with every piece. Throughout this conversation, the artist shares insights into his creative process, the evolution of his style, and the significant moments that have shaped his career. With a focus on carving, totem poles, and sculptural works, his art is a reflection of his heritage, community, and deep connection to nature.
Well, I was literally born into a family of artists. So, it’s kind of been a lifelong adventure for me, it’s not really a job. I love it. If I had a different career, I would still be carving. I’m going to carve until the day I die, I’ll be carving forever, so I love it. I love it. It’s what I want. I’ve always wanted to do it my entire life.
You know, my dad is an artist. He’s a Master Carver. He’s carved since he was 18 . He’s in his late 60s now, so he’s been at it for quite a few years, and I’ve grown up just watching him. I have all my uncles as well, my dad’s brothers who are artists and they carve. And so it’s a family tradition. I’ve grown up in it. So it’s really more than just carving, it’s part of my life.
I cover several different areas of mediums for artwork. I do some graphic design work, metal, jewelry, and silver and gold. But mainly I do sculpting, carving, totem poles, masks, and panels. Really, my main focus is totem poles and I try to do a bit more of a sculptural style with my artwork.
Well, I think when you have a look at my artwork, you can see the creativity coming through and it’s really a part of me as an artist. Every piece has a little bit of me in it. I spend so much time with it, kind of almost speaking to the wood, letting the wood speak to me as well. It is a back-and-forth relationship with the wood, so you can see if you have a look at my artwork, you can see it inside each piece. Everything that’s gone into it, the expression and the feelings inside of it so it’s kind of self-explanatory when you actually look at my work.
It’s like the wood is alive. Sometimes when you’re creating a piece out of wood, it’s so old, right? There’s a kind of spirit inside of it. And, you know, sometimes it’ll kind of shift and the design will change. Working on something and an idea within the design you created a kind of a new idea comes out of it, so you’re adding little different pieces.
I have several different forms of inspiration. My children are a big inspiration in my life. You know, I draw a lot of my happiness and love and caring from just my relationship with them. And then I spend a lot of time with my partner and her kids as well. I do a lot of hiking too. Just actually seeing nature sometimes seeing a creature, say a Heron, and the stillness of it, but also the patience. I can see a carving coming to life out of that. When I’m in nature inspiration can come from a lot of different places.
I think my style is heavily influenced my dad Doug Lafortune, I grew up watching him, so seeing his style of work really influenced the structure of my artwork. I’ve really tried to look back a bit at some of my pieces and into our traditional Cost Salish style. So it’s a Coast Salish contemporary style, but it’s also Doug Lafortune style as well too, he created his own style, he looked at other artists that he respected and brought some of different elements into his own work, and then I was influenced by that. You know, I took it another step further, creating my own style out of something that I learned from, my father.
With the colours I choose, I like to use a lighter palette. I favor really light colors such as white, light blues, greens, turquoise, and so on. These colours reflect a softness in my pieces. I really like frogs, hummingbirds, and herons—their flow, their movement. I believe these softer colours complement my designs and add a certain softness. It’s an element that can be used for home decoration but can also transition a traditional style piece into a contemporary piece of artwork.
As a W̱SÁNEĆ artist, I strive to represent my community of SȾÁUTW̱ and the lands we live on. My pieces often reflect our local environment. We have an abundance of herons, ravens, frogs, and the ocean. With every piece, I try to incorporate an element from our community and our lands. Especially with my larger public pieces, I want people to recognize that the W̱SÁNEĆ people are here. I want to express that I am a representative from my community who has learned the art form, and through my creations, such as totem poles, I want the broader community to know that we are here, this is our land, and while they’re welcome, they should also be respectful. We are still guardians of this land and continue to care for it.
I’ve encountered plenty of challenges throughout my years as an artist. Starting out wasn’t easy. Learning to carve, particularly in the present times where there’s a need to earn a living, that was the most challenging part. Learning to make a career out of it was a long process. Balancing the time it takes to hone one’s artistic skills with the need to generate an income was probably the most challenging aspect. Turning my art into a sustainable career was a lengthy process, but in the end, the hard work paid off, and now I can make a living from it.
Building a career was indeed a long and labor-intensive journey. Finding apprentices and getting help for larger projects was another hurdle. Many assume that carving is straightforward, but it takes years to cultivate the necessary skills. Like any craft, it has its unique set of challenges.
The key, like with any career or form of work, is consistency. There were tough times, but it was essential to persevere, continue studying the art, and leaning on our traditions. Recognizing that this craft has been alive for thousands of years and is a part of our heritage gives it life and keeps you moving forward.
The foremost advice I’d give is not to be afraid of making mistakes. You need to embrace it. In my early years, I was always anxious about getting things right. But eventually, I realized I needed to own my work. If I made errors, they were mine to correct. It’s crucial to challenge oneself, to dare to be different, and to draw inspiration from past works and their stories. Being present and fully engaged is pivotal for an artist.
Valuing artwork is a mix of creativity and technicality. You need to be confident in the worth of your creations. Determining value can be subjective, but it often comes down to comparing similar pieces in the market, gauging the experience behind the artwork, and understanding its intrinsic value in terms of craft and story.
Valuing one’s work is indeed subjective. Every piece is unique. Factors like time investment, material costs, and experience come into play. More than just the time spent on a piece, the years of expertise that enable its creation must be considered. For instance, I’ve been carving since I was eight. My three decades of experience naturally command a higher value compared to someone with just two years in the field.
In my field, some clients question the time taken for a project. But the crux is the quality of the outcome. With experience, efficiency improves, but the value remains high. Once you’ve established a portfolio and a pricing range, there’s no need to justify each price.
I’ve had instances where clients agreed to a price but later baulked at the cost. I stand firm on my pricing. It’s based on the quality and uniqueness of my work. For instance, a client wanted doors similar to those I’d done for a prominent project. After much discussion and design finalization, she expressed surprise at the quoted price. But I know my worth. If clients want unparalleled quality, they’ll have to value the craftsmanship.
It’s frustrating, but I’ve reached a point in my career where I’m not reliant on every opportunity. Earlier, every job mattered, but I’ve worked hard to attain a stable position in the field.
Certainly. A significant milestone for me was when I created a sizable piece for a Camosun College, unveiled in 2021, for their new trades building. It was an 18-foot installation with an aluminum backdrop and three carved pieces affixed to its front. This mixed-media work symbolized the blend of technology, represented by the aluminum, with traditional Salish house post designs, but interpreted in a modern way.
It was an ambitious project. Navigating through it presented challenges, especially with the onset of COVID-19. The pandemic led to lockdowns, shutting the school and delaying meetings. Although the piece was initially slated for completion within a year, it took almost four, primarily due to the pandemic. I even faced issues accessing my workshop and tools, as the place I rented had closed down during the lockdown.
Recently, I crafted two benches for the Whale Trail on Saturna Island, located at ṮEḴTEḴSEN near Saturna’s Island’s end. As visitors traverse this trail, they sometimes witness whales swimming incredibly close to the shore. One bench showcased a male killer whale pursuing a salmon, while the other depicted a mother killer whale with her calf. Funnily enough, on our way to install the benches, we saw a similar scene in real life—a mother and her baby whale seemed to guide us to the installation site. It was a surreal experience.
It was a great experience. Saturna Island holds rich history with old villages and traditional settlements. Crafting something that represents our W̱SÁNEĆ community and Tsawout members on the island, making our heritage visible for all, filled me with pride. It was an honour to contribute.
Before the pandemic, I frequently conducted workshops in the community. When my children participated in summer programs, I’d occasionally interact with their classes, educating them about the art of carving, showing them pieces, and sharing our family traditions. A particularly significant contribution was when I donated a design for Orange T-shirt Day in Victoria to honor residential school survivors, a cause deeply personal since my mother is a survivor. I had envisioned the design for pamphlets, but it became widely popular when printed on t-shirts, spreading across North America. It’s a piece of work I hold close to my heart, something I am very proud of.
Before the pandemic, I frequently conducted workshops in the community. When my children participated in summer programs, I’d occasionally interact with their classes, educating them about the art of carving, showing them pieces, and sharing our family traditions. A particularly significant contribution was when I donated a design for Orange T-shirt Day in Victoria to honor residential school survivors, a cause deeply personal since my mother is a survivor. I had envisioned the design for pamphlets, but it became widely popular when printed on t-shirts, spreading across North America. It’s a piece of work I hold close to my heart, something I am very proud of.
For artists at the outset of their journey, regardless of age, I’d recommend seeking mentorship from established artists in the community. Explore the many opportunities available, and most importantly, enjoy the process. Art, if pursued as a profession, can sometimes feel burdensome, but it’s essential to remember the joy it brings. Each creation should be a heartfelt endeavour, an amalgamation of spirit and legacy, carrying a fragment of our ancestors’ essence.
For me, apprenticeship needs to unfold naturally. My father was my mentor. Through him, I was deeply immersed in the world of art, observing and absorbing his expertise every day. It’s not as simple as reading a book or following a set of instructions. Becoming a carver, or an artist in any form, is adopting a lifestyle. You must be immersed in it, allowing it to become a part of who you are. The journey demands patience and dedication.
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