I met Gordon Smith for the first time on a tour of his West Vancouver home, set on a craggy slope overlooking the steely Pacific.
Gordon Smith at 90, in his West Vancouver studio. The B.C.-based painter and philanthropist died on January 18, 2020, at age 100. To the right is the chair that inspired the artwork he gave me. Photo: courtesy Martin Tessler
Smith’s studio was the tidiest I’d ever seen. White walls, white floor, with nary a scuff mark or paint splatter. A trolley held brushes and jars of pigments arranged in rows. Other materials, from staple guns to canvas, were stowed behind closet doors, out of sight.
“Amazing,” I thought. Detritus from the creative process, cleaned up after the fact? (My mother’s studio never looked like that.)
But I could see why Smith kept his work space shipshape. The room itself was a work of art—part of an architectural masterpiece designed in 1964 for Smith and his wife, Marion, by their friend, Arthur Erickson.
Smith died in this home last week, at age 100.
Over the course of his triple-digit life, he earned many accolades, including the Governor General’s Award for visual and media arts.
But beyond his glorious paintings, Smith’s support for future generations may prove to be his greatest legacy.
Beyond his glorious paintings, Smith’s support for future generations may be his greatest legacy
The Smiths never had children. Instead, they dedicated much of their resources to art education. Smith worked hands-on with children through Artists for Kids, an organization that later expanded into The Gordon and Marion Smith Foundation for Young Artists.
Smith was a spry octogenarian when he showed me his house. Arranged around a concrete courtyard, this Erickson marvel of window-wrapped geometry won the Royal Architectural Institute of Canada’s Prix du XXe siècle for “enduring excellence of nationally significant architecture.”
Smith’s studio had high ceilings and oodles of natural light. The room’s footprint was on the small side, but Smith found a spot for the things he loved most. The paintbrushes of his mentor, Lawren Harris, dangled from a wooden beam.
At the side of the studio, a wrought-iron chair caught my eye. Its curvy design seemed out of place next to the Smiths’ modernist furnishings. “I rescued it from an old ice cream parlor at UBC,” Smith explained, referring to the university where he used to teach.
Chair crafted from the wire of a champagne stopper by my friend, Andrée Pouliot
I told him I’d seen a similar chair in miniature. A family friend crafted them with pliers, using the wire from stoppers of champagne.
The next day, I sent one of these tiny chairs to Smith as a thank-you for the tour. I thought he’d get a kick out of it. He did.
Writing by email, he invited me to the opening of his next exhibition. “I have something for you,” he added mysteriously.
I didn’t expect him to remember me at the crowded opening. But when I paid my respects, he told me to wait a moment. He reappeared with a cardboard tube in his hand and a twinkle in his eye.
Inside was a large etching entitled, “Chair and Bag,” signed Gordon Smith.
I chuckled. Smith had one-upped me in the furniture exchange.
(Staff reporters are not allowed to accept gifts, but I was a freelancer back then and not working as a critic.)
Over the years, I spotted Smith’s artworks in the homes of many journalist friends. This didn’t make his gift any less special. On the contrary, I felt part of a larger Smith circle of kindness.
His art touched me in other ways, too.
In 2004, I had an assignment to write about a new art collection at Four Seasons Whistler. Suspended in the grand stairwell was the showstopper: “Spring Thaw,” by Gordon Smith. At 10 by 18 feet, this acrylic on canvas was his largest creation.
I must have gazed at this immersive snowscape for half an hour before climbing the stairs to my room. The next day, the wonderful man accompanying me popped the question. We’ve been married for 15 years now.
Smith’s chair hangs in our kitchen across from the stove, next to a wily fox painted by our son when he was 5. I have a feeling Smith would approve.
“Chair and Bag,” by the late Gordon Smith, hanging in my kitchen next to a fox painted by my son at age 5