“The LabourArt Project” catalogue introduction by Heidi Bergstrom, Curator/Director, Durham Art Gallery, 1997

This collection of 100 black and white photographs is intended to capture, as much as possible in a short 24-hour period, the daily life of working people. Our "day" actually began on the way up to Tobermory on June 10, 1997 and finished with James on the way home from Durham on June 12, 1997. The photographs are, in fact, more like unacknowledged moments fleetingly observed. Any more time would have made the collection too contrived, too planned and too studied for what we hoped to capture. The challenge of the day itself took any planning out of our hands. We had a route and no expectations outside of sticking to the timetable; but we soon found that many places would have to be sacrificed along the way. The field experience of James working at the Sun Times as a photojournalist and the helpfulness and organization of workers taking us through the sites and introducing us to others, allowed us to get in and out quickly, sometimes only staying a matter of minutes, a quick chat to ask some background questions and record the environment and we were off. Even at some of the really overwhelming places like the Bruce Nuclear Power Development and the Canadian Auto Workers Family and Education Centre in Port Elgin, where there is a staggering amount of people and goings-on, we were able to make good time.

Unobtrusiveness was our ethic. Our day started as we headed to the Chi-Cheemaun in Tobermory at 5am on June 11, 1997, no breakfast because nothing was open. We stopped at the drive-thru of Tim Horton's in Port Elgin around 7:45am and didn't get to finish the bagel and coffee until sometime in the early afternoon and we finished the day at about 11:15pm with some interesting stories and a welcome beer with the brothers at the IWA Local 500 in Hanover. No supper until 1am at another Tim Horton drive on the way back to Durham. We had covered more than 900 kilometres, James had taken 1100 photographs and I had recorded 4 hours worth of conversations on tape. The enormity of the day was sinking in and we were both elated and exhausted. Finally, staggering to bed at about 2am with Michael wanting to know how it went, too tired to talk, head buzzing, sleep- merciful sleep, was mine.

I remember thinking to myself, the next day, what an amazing sensation it was to have the day over; but I was also surprisingly pained. I have since reflected back on the miserable winter of 1995 which I thought I might not survive, and being inspired by Brenda Wall of the Grey Bruce Labour Council on the potential of bringing workers and artists together in Labour/Art Projects. It is not an easy vision: what on earth can artists and workers have in common? How/why would they be interested in art or artists or vice versa? Suspicion is high on both sides at times. Is it possible to bridge the gulf? take down the barriers? Had James and I been able to accomplish at least the semblance of a start on these enormous questions? How did I relate personally to the whole idea? The work of bringing the LabourArt Project to fruition had just begun, but its roots for me went much deeper.

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As an artist and a neophyte in this life, I have come more and more to be in awe of the unacknowledged moments of daily life. It seems we could miss our whole lives. Sometimes I wish my children wouldn't grow up so that I could savour a little more or a little better their growth, expressiveness and courage. At other times I wish I could go back in time and sit in on the endless meetings when my father was so engrossed, organizing worker unions in the underground mines of northern Ontario... or to learn how my mother coped all those years moving the household and six kids regularly while my father went from job to job...I now see how growing up in a working class family provided a rich source for reflection and a context for seeing the world. I am grateful to my brother Carson, now an 18th century English Literature Scholar who put himself through school logging in the summers. He reminded me, while I was still young enough not to really take him seriously; but, with enough memory cells intact, to not forget that I should never disown my background and to recognize and accept the backbone it provided for all of us. I remember my father talking to me about organising unions in the early 1950’s and how the workers and the company perceived them: "units of production"- not as people looking after their families, with rights to a decent living or safe working conditions. Men might go down the hole in the early morning, while it was still dark, and not return. For others they would spend the rest of their, often short, lives coughing up blood and phlegm until they no longer had breath to draw. The dawning that workers were not units of production but rather the controllers of production, was slowly brewing in the recesses of their rage and frustration...Their success in organising depended upon the strength of their convictions, courage and the support of other workers. This is not a manifesto - it is history, which has a way of repeating itself. Today it seems everywhere workers are threatened, at every turn, with job loss or replacement. How often we hear the call that workers should just be happy to have a job no matter what the pay, benefits, lack of security or safety. These terms are shrouded in doubt; dirty words we're not sure we should speak. The very word "union" can inflame and anger. Deficit terrorism reigns supreme while the most vulnerable (and the numbers are growing) are left to fend for themselves. A key point, as my father would say, is that just like in the early days, it is fend for yourself. The government won't protect rights or negotiate pay; you have to do it yourself... It seems strange to be sitting here writing these ideas down and drawing a link to artists: a group of unorganized, self employed workers seemingly on the fringe of society. How do artists fit in with Labour and how are they different? When I first attended art school our teachers often reminded us that we would work not one but two full time jobs - the one we did for pay to support our other full time work as artists. If one were lucky, one might be able to work at something related to art such as teaching or be accepted at a good gallery which would take 50-60% off the top for any works sold (kind of like the government; but, you can't get any back and no contributions to social security programs). In reality most artists work, sometimes in unionized jobs, like anyone else and making art is work. A typical misconception about artists is that they do it only because they like it and, therefore, it requires no effort and thus it is not serious "work". Artists have as much if not more to grumble about as workers. One might be surprised to find the parallel complaints: poor pay, difficult to advance, poor working conditions, lack of benefits, opportunity, lack of status...The question arises, why do it? It's a good question for both sides isn't it?

The work of artists, which is often impossible to place dollar figures on or to define in a business contract, remains the work of reflecting/defining/exploring social and personal identity. When the viewer approaches the work he/she seeks to find an identification in the work, which can be representational, abstract, expressive, intellectual, subtle or obvious. The viewer may seek nothing and come away with much. Or just what he/she sought: nothing. In creating the work, the artist does not always use the viewer as a starting point nor will there be one work, which sums it up for the viewer. The moment the viewer identifies with the work he/she identifies with the artist. The artist and viewer are in dialogue. Although the content may be perceived as, or create any array of sensations and ideas, the viewer and artist have met on this plane to see it together. Each having their own interpretation and understanding but together nonetheless. This is the bridge, which allows a human contact unattainable in any other form and transcending time and language. The deep importance of this connection stems from this unique creation or moment, which can not be duplicated. The tendency to want to quash the unique in favour of mass commercial/mechanized production is a tireless corporate wheel endlessly cranking out products that ultimately will diminish the quality of daily living, seeing, and a self-attained personal identity. Just think of all the great books which have been turned into bad films or great paintings turned into counterfeit limited edition prints which barely reflect the original work for confirmation of this notion.

In the LabourArt Project, photographic artist James Masters and I have collaborated and shared in a vision of workers and artists. As practising artists, we wanted a body of work which had a strong personal connection and practise; utilising contemporary media allows for availability to a larger audience (i.e. Internet and CD-Rom) while maintaining the integrity of the project. The LabourArt Project is a work of art and an historical document that captures the unacknowledged moments in the daily life of workers whether they are engaged in paid, unpaid, volunteer, union or self employed work and any possible range in between. The LabourArt Project is a first in the region of Grey and Bruce but it is not a first in terms of Labour/Art Projects. Carl Beveridge and Jude Johnstone of the Work Place Arts Off ice in Toronto are currently compiling a 20-year history documenting significant developments and collaborations between artists and workers. Labour and Art collaborations have included everything from worker created art to worker/artist collaborations in art creation, work/workers as subject, labour music, political street theatre and festivals such as the May Works Festival held annually in Toronto. In this project, James and I sought out the labour community and identified ourselves as part of this community to create a self-inclusive portrait. Our vision, at times physical presence, and voices, will be encountered through the images and recordings. In the context of this exhibition the gallery space acts as the objective plain whereby there are no class or hierarchical relationships. The relationships are definably linked through the common connection of daily work in all of its manifestations: nuclear engineers next to farmers next to artists next to mothers and children next to fishermen next to...One's consciousness is brought back to the essential necessity of human contact and animation in the detail images of workers hands in offering of a representation of their work: scissors, keyboards, nets, children, paint brushes, butcher knives.... an offering and a reminder of the human effort, expertise and artistry in which each of us is engaged on a daily basis.

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In closing, I have many to thank personally in making this vision a reality. Brenda Wall and the members of the Grey Bruce Labour Council for having the will and courage to look for the intangibles! Vi Bland for all her support and as a sympathizer in the arts community. Mike Dyer and Geoffrey Shea for their creativity, sensitivity and enthusiasm for the project. The Canadian Auto Workers and the Bruce Nuclear Power Development Corporation for recognizing the importance of and desire to encourage a positive local worker identity.... To the many small businesses and individuals who made donations in kind, your support made all the difference in the world to this project, particularly when we were just getting started! And finally, my most heart felt thanks and solidarity to James Masters whose keen artistic sensibilities, compassion and intelligence has given this project the depth of understanding it deserved. It has been a rare privilege and the biggest highlight of my own creative endeavours in the past three years. At the hearth I must thank Judy McTaggert and Rinske Salvadera for all their help with reading, typing and child care. I can not thank enough my partner Michael, for his unfailing support, love and insight. And, my daughters Adryan and Haley, for their love and understanding when the project kept me away from home, even when I hadn't left the house! Thank you all! Heidi Bergstrom

Published in the Lola, 1998