PERI PHILLIPS MCQUAY | Marie Cecilia Guard

Marie Cecilia Guard

Marie in her Studio

WOMAN LOOKING OUT: Excerpt: Passionate Gesture

While Ken was finding a path for himself by portraying the heart of his Toronto, Marie was still fighting to pursue her art in spite of the realities that confronted her. Back in the thirties she had worked on a prophetic series of illustrations for Madame Bovary, a book which haunted her. The utter misery of Emma Bovary, as she tried to escape to a romantic dream world, only to be defeated by an environment which refused to set her free and indeed strangled her, became a theme which parallelled Marie's own life. Desperately, she tried to find a way out of her prison. If they sold lots off the back of the property, could they improve their finances? Could they bear to live surrounded by subdivisions? Perhaps actually moving would free her. Her doctor had advised that a drier, warmer climate would help her arthritis. Could they move to the mountains in Arizona? But how, in mid-life, with two daughters and few conventional skills, would they earn a living in such a place? They had put so much of themselves into their home. Would they ever find another place as beautiful?

Moreover, the lack of acknowledgement of her art, coupled with acute pressure to comply as a conventional wife and mother was eroding her vision. The sweetness of even a little encouragement would have made it far easier to keep going. As well, for Marie, the pressure to be quiescent was fierce and her resistance was at a low ebb. Of an afternoon she would limp out to stand by the pines which shrouded the house, looking out at the enclosed world of the forest, motionless, numb, only her eyes betraying her suffering.

In 1957 she painted in oil one further defiantly whimsical, but symbolic nude. This was "Caprice"--a blythe figure in warmest flesh tones, stepping lightly through a forest world of newly fallen snow. Beauty created in a cold climate. Although she was to pursue truth and beauty wholeheartedly in her work until the end of her days, her art from this time on lost much of its daring. Her style continued to evolve, but never again was there the flare of adventure which had been characteristic of the first half of her life.