Hallie Watson

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Artist Bio
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Artist's Statement

Chair Portraits

   Many drawings in this show are chair portraits. Like a portrait of a person, these drawings are intended to capture the character and story of a chair.

   More than just wood, stuffing and fabric, furniture absorbs the life around it. An old chair has generations of life experience imbedded like a time aroma in its' structure. It takes the imprint of the people who live with it - not just the physical part, but the character and life too.

   When you are out of the house, the chairs talk to each other very quietly about what is going on. It is usually so quiet that coming suddenly into a room you might not notice.

   But what stories they have to tell!

Blue Chair #1
This chair has come to us as a bit of an invalid. Its arms wobble and really it should be fixed, but even so it is stubborn and forthright.

Audie's sofa - SOLD

This sofa begins its story belonging to Granny Newnham, who as a young woman fell love with a fellow who became the Bishop of Moosonee. It travelled in the late 1880's from Montreal by sailing ship to their home in Moosonee which was defined as Aall land draining into Hudson’s Bay.

They had one daughter, and then two sets of girl twins. The women were at one time described as ‘two pairs and a peach.’

Audie’s mother played the part of the Bishop’s wife, establishing schools and hospitals and women’s associations wherever she went. She established St.Alban’s School for Girls in Prince Albert, Saskatchewan (bringing the headmistress from Scotland) so that her girls would have a ‘proper’ school to go to .

Audie was always the frail one. She contracted TB in early childhood and remained a spinster all her life. She is remembered by her great-niece as quiet and mild. She liked sherry and menthol cigarettes, which she smoked all her life.

Blue Chair #2

When you sit in this chair it’s so deep it’s more like lying down. It is impossible to sit primly in it; you must recline. It requires you to give in. When you’re in it, the wings block out your side vision so you are in a soft cave.

Brown Sofa - SOLD

This poor sofa has been through the wringer. It needed to be recovered about twenty years ago, but it keeps soldiering on. It’s a reliable old thing, and comfortable. It has been faded by the sun, and rained on by the leaky roof. It has absorbed countless years of dust. It has been jumped on by children and nibbled by mice. It has listened to innumerable stories read out loud and the rhythmic breathing of afternoon adult naps. It provides comfort and reliable familiarity. It’s a family friend.

Daddy’s Chair - SOLD

This chair came from my Dad’s childhood in Cobalt, a silver mining town in northern Ontario, where his father was the mine manager. Daddy lived there until he was nine. The chair made its’ way through my Dad’s life and landed in our living room. My Dad always sat in this chair. He spent many happy hours there eating, reading, thinking through countless projects and inventions, and creating toasts and poems.

Ice Bucket - SOLD

Every evening my Dad would come home from work and eventually make his way to the bar where he would crack open a whole tray of ice and dump it into the ice bucket. Then he made himself and my Mother a gin and tonic before dinner. It was a happy and relaxed time of day. The three of us sat in front of the T.V., my Dad to my left, my Mum to my right. My Mum always had her drink with lots of ice and a terry sock over the bottom of the glass to keep her hands from getting cold.

The Green Chair - SOLD

This chair came from my grandfather’s house. I used to sit in it to watch T.V. All the joints are loose in it so when you sit in it there is a lot of creaking and squeaking. My Dad would always say to me when I was making too much noise, ‘Hallie, stop surging.’

His mother used to say the same thing to him.

Oriental Pot - SOLD

This pot was around all my life and I never paid any attention to it, until two things happened- my stepmother designed a whole room around it, and my son Tom could fit inside it.

Jean’s Mother’s First Needlepoint - SOLD

When Jean’s mother was perhaps nine, she made her first needlepoint of a butterfly. It is a testament of her family’s love for her that they bought this beautiful inlaid chair to display the work.

Paperweight - SOLD

My mother had a paperweight collection. They were all beautiful, the glass globes displayed on a glass topped counter in my parents’ bedroom. The biggest one though, lived in the living room. It was as big as a bowling ball. It came to us through my grandmother, who as a young girl of 18 brought it back from her European tour. I imagine the glass maker in Murano, Italy, getting up in the morning, having his morning coffee then going to his workshop to make this magical glass ball, trapping some of his life in it. My grandmother bought it and then it went to my Dad and then to me. Now my children put their faces up close to it and think it is like a world suspended in hardened water. It is a crystal ball with the past and the future entwined.