A changing landscape

Saskatchewan artist Geoff Phillips mountain biked his way around the province’s southwest a few years ago looking for patches of wildflowers, native grasses and other plants he could paint in the body of work that would become Plantscapes of the Prairies. He soon learned he had to visit areas such as Grasslands National Park and Cypress Hills Interprovincial Park to find plentiful displays of native plants: “I realized you’re not going to find interesting plants and things growing that aren’t in protected areas.”

The 12 large paintings Phillips created serve as a stern warning: Many plants native to the prairies are disappearing as a result of the relentless sprawl of agriculture. Consider the western red lily, the provincial floral emblem on the Saskatchewan flag. The flower used to be plentiful but now is a protected species. It is no longer just a symbol for Saskatchewan, but also a symbol for disappearing nature.

Across the country, many of Canada’s top contemporary landscape artists are warning about the dangers to nature from agriculture, industrialization and climate change. “Artists, after all, are the canaries in the coalmine that point us to look at things that society is not grappling with the way it should be,” says Sarah Milroy, chief curator of the McMichael Canadian Art Collection, the art gallery based in Kleinburg, Ont., that’s famous for its massive Group of Seven collection.

A century ago, Canada’s top artists were the emerging Group of Seven. They painted what were presented as newly discovered landscapes, unspoiled and uninhabited, although Indigenous peoples had lived in those areas for thousands of years. Today, the country’s artists are painting not newly discovered landscapes but instead the increasingly threatened landscapes of Canada.

A short-tailed weasel in its winter coat appears startled — or delighted — by something out of the frame. A robber fly immobilizes its prey by injecting it with paralyzing saliva. A garter snake prepares to forage for fish in the Salish Sea’s intertidal zone. The winning images of Canadian Geographic’s 2022 Canadian Wildlife Photography of the Year competition are a true reflection of this country’s biodiversity and the talents of our photographic community, showcasing amazing animals and rarely seen behaviours. For this 10th edition of our most popular photography competition, we are pleased to recognize one photographer who stood out among the nearly 10,000 entries: Brittany Crossman is our Canadian Wildlife Photographer of the Year and wins the grand prize of $5000.

Read on to learn more about Crossman and see the photos that most impressed our judges: wildlife photographers Mark Raycroft, Michelle Valberg and Jenny Wong and the editorial staff of Canadian Geographic.

In the halls of Canada’s Parliament Buildings, there are portraits of Jacques Cartier, John A. Macdonald, Agnes Macphail, and dozens of other figures from Canada’s history. But there are few images of Indigenous people (in fact, there are more images of dinosaurs in Parliament than there are of Indigenous people). Do some exploring and you will find a handful of photos of Inuit hunters and a solitary portrait of a First Nations man in a headdress appearing to sign a treaty. Unlike their non-Native counterparts, none of the Indigenous people have names. Or, rather, they undoubtedly do have names, but those names aren’t recorded.

The omission of Indigenous names is a problem that is endemic in the telling of Canada’s history — Parliament is just one example. From history books to monuments, non-Native figures are named, while Indigenous people aren’t. Instead they are described as “an Indian”, “a Mohawk”, or some similar demonym. Removing Indigenous names removes Indigenous agency from Canada’s history. Without names, history is reduced to anthropology; instead of a shared national consciousness, the ties that could bind us together are relegated to dusty archives and dustier academics.

However, a few metres down Wellington Street at Library and Archives Canada headquarters, there are people in government who are trying to fix this problem through a program known as “Project Naming.”

“I was in a small place in Uganda called Fort Portal. We were going to leave that day when the army showed up looking for me, and my husband would just not let them take me. So they took him. It was awful, even now when I think about it. For years I had nightmares because there were two army men at his head with rifles and two pointing at his stomach. They forcibly took him in a jeep.”

– Senator Mobina Jaffer

In August 1972, Idi Amin, military dictator of Uganda, stunned the world when he announced that the South-Asian population of Uganda, numbering some 80,000 people, had 90 days to get out of the country or else.

Lives, families and businesses that were established in Uganda for generations were torn apart in a matter of weeks.

South-Asians first arrived in Uganda in the late 1800s, brought in by the British to build the railway from the Kenyan coast to central Africa. They went on to establish themselves as merchants and entrepreneurs, a central part of Uganda’s economy when it achieved independence from Britain in 1963.

For Ugandans of all origins, Amin’s declaration 50 years ago was the start of a descent into hell. The economy collapsed, and a reign of terror by Amin, by then nicknamed the Butcher of Uganda, saw hundreds of thousands lose their lives.

More than six-thousand of the Asians expelled by Amin came to Canada, restarting their lives here, some as early as September 1972.

One of those is our guest today, Mobina Jaffer. In 1972, she was part of Uganda’s Muslim Ismaili community. Her story is both terrifying and inspiring, as she and her young family escaped to re-establish themselves in Canada. Here she began a long and successful career as a lawyer and politician, working closely especially with Prime Minister Jean Chretien, and dedicating a large part of her career and time, unsurprisingly, to the plight of refugees.

In this captivating interview, she remembers the lead up to the expulsion, the disbelief and horror when it happened, the difficulties and benefits of starting a new life in Canada, and the important lessons to be learned by Canadians in how we treat refugees today.

Included in the package are two Grizzly Bear Viewing Tours in Toba Inlet – each guided tour is about 6 hours with 2-3 hours on land viewing grizzly bears from Klahoose platforms with Indigenous guides.
The enrichment program will feature our RCGS Travel Ambassador sharing their specific expertise as well as Klahoose’s own local Cultural Interpreter who will assist in guiding grizzly bear viewing tours in Toba Inlet. Immerse yourself amongst local culture through Indigenous storytelling, cedar weaving, kayaking, stand up paddle boarding, ocean swimming, forest walks and ocean foraging. Prepare to be transformed as you discover the magic of Klahoose in Desolation Sound.

Meet your RCGS Travel Ambassadors: Wilson and Charlene Bearhead

Check out these other upcoming trips:

- Caribbean Mountains to the Coast with Marlis Butcher
- Patagonia Wildlife Safari with David Gray
- Saskatchewan Whooping Cranes with Myrna Pearman