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welcome to the
Midland Cultural Centre
MCC GALLERY
of indigenous art
Marguerite Larmand was born in 1939 in Victoria Harbour on the southern shores of Georgian Bay where she grew up in a farming community.
For seven years of her youth, between the ages of seven and thirteen, she was participating in most farming activities and creating intimate and private places and things that revealed her physical and spiritual connection with nature. Through this exhibition, she reveals her affective memories through stories of life lived during those early years. Her ongoing desires and goals prepared her for her artistic life and at the heart, they reflect the spirit of an Indigenous ethos.
Title: ABUNDANCE
Year: 2022
Medium: Linen, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 50”
One Thousand Potato Plants
I walked to the potato field and stood staring. Ten long rows, each holding one hundred plants. The timing was right for pulling weeds, it had rained overnight. I searched for a good flexible rod, sharpened it with my pocket knife, paced twenty-five steps down the first row and pushed it into the soil. Sitting with my back to the marker, I pulled the weeds from the first plant, the second, the third, vowing not to look back until I felt the rod touch my back. It seemed to take only a short time to reach that marker and by repeating my strategy three more times, the first row was finished. With a mere shift in thinking, weeding one thousand plants became light work.
Year: 2022
Medium: Linen, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 50”
One Thousand Potato Plants
I walked to the potato field and stood staring. Ten long rows, each holding one hundred plants. The timing was right for pulling weeds, it had rained overnight. I searched for a good flexible rod, sharpened it with my pocket knife, paced twenty-five steps down the first row and pushed it into the soil. Sitting with my back to the marker, I pulled the weeds from the first plant, the second, the third, vowing not to look back until I felt the rod touch my back. It seemed to take only a short time to reach that marker and by repeating my strategy three more times, the first row was finished. With a mere shift in thinking, weeding one thousand plants became light work.
Title: OF MOON & MOTHS
Year: 2022
Medium: Bleached Cotton, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 48”
Luna Rescued
Red Astrachan was the second of all our apple trees to bloom and fruit. Before the family was up for the day, I snuck out to find the best apple that fell to the ground overnight. One special morning, a Luna moth was resting on a rusted sheet of metal near the apple tree. I knelt to look closely and her antennae moved when she felt my breath. All day and night her safety left little room for any other thought to enter my mind. On returning the next morning, with my perfect flat box, I was delighted to find her still there and soon came to realize that yesterday was her final flight.
Year: 2022
Medium: Bleached Cotton, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 48”
Luna Rescued
Red Astrachan was the second of all our apple trees to bloom and fruit. Before the family was up for the day, I snuck out to find the best apple that fell to the ground overnight. One special morning, a Luna moth was resting on a rusted sheet of metal near the apple tree. I knelt to look closely and her antennae moved when she felt my breath. All day and night her safety left little room for any other thought to enter my mind. On returning the next morning, with my perfect flat box, I was delighted to find her still there and soon came to realize that yesterday was her final flight.
Title: OFFSPRING
Year: 2023
Medium: Photo Transfer on Silk Organza, Linen, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 50”
Abandoned Newborn
Home from school on a Friday afternoon, I’m told the young Jersey cow has given birth to her first calf and she has returned from the woods alone. Saturday morning after chores, I set out to determine if the calf was stillborn or too weak to follow its mother. I began my search in the cedars, a dense, rather dark wooded area where the ground was soft and dry and there were depressions around the roots where a young calf could safely be dropped. I navigated,
back and forth moving from one side of the wood to the other. Somewhere along the way, I stopped to rest and very slowly a tiny brown calf came into focus beside me. She was curled up, wide wake and meticulously clean. I lifted her to stand but her legs wouldn’t support her. Tearfully, I carried her back home wrestling with branches more mean than those of the hawthorn. It would be more than a month of my care before she was strong enough to join the other calves.
Year: 2023
Medium: Photo Transfer on Silk Organza, Linen, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 50”
Abandoned Newborn
Home from school on a Friday afternoon, I’m told the young Jersey cow has given birth to her first calf and she has returned from the woods alone. Saturday morning after chores, I set out to determine if the calf was stillborn or too weak to follow its mother. I began my search in the cedars, a dense, rather dark wooded area where the ground was soft and dry and there were depressions around the roots where a young calf could safely be dropped. I navigated,
back and forth moving from one side of the wood to the other. Somewhere along the way, I stopped to rest and very slowly a tiny brown calf came into focus beside me. She was curled up, wide wake and meticulously clean. I lifted her to stand but her legs wouldn’t support her. Tearfully, I carried her back home wrestling with branches more mean than those of the hawthorn. It would be more than a month of my care before she was strong enough to join the other calves.
Title: RED TIDE
Year: 2023
Medium: Silk, Bamboo Silk Fibre
Dimensions: 72” X 40”
Red Anguish
It’s October and already there’s a foot of snow on the ground. The day is sunny and the light on the snow is sharp. Fourteen steers and heifers will see the vet briefly to be dehorned and castrated. Wintered in the barn, this procedure is done to prevent bruising and hide damage.
Using a head halter my father leads them one by one to the drive shed. He wrestles the calf to the ground and holds it still while the vet with his guillotine-style tool makes the cut. The procedure is quick but exceedingly painful. As the calf bolts free, blood sprays in arcs from the wounds. Each calf runs kicking frantically and comes to a standstill. It quivers, snorts and groans while the cold speeds up the congealing. The snow colour, the sound, the scent, the witnessing, all unforgettable anguish.
Year: 2023
Medium: Silk, Bamboo Silk Fibre
Dimensions: 72” X 40”
Red Anguish
It’s October and already there’s a foot of snow on the ground. The day is sunny and the light on the snow is sharp. Fourteen steers and heifers will see the vet briefly to be dehorned and castrated. Wintered in the barn, this procedure is done to prevent bruising and hide damage.
Using a head halter my father leads them one by one to the drive shed. He wrestles the calf to the ground and holds it still while the vet with his guillotine-style tool makes the cut. The procedure is quick but exceedingly painful. As the calf bolts free, blood sprays in arcs from the wounds. Each calf runs kicking frantically and comes to a standstill. It quivers, snorts and groans while the cold speeds up the congealing. The snow colour, the sound, the scent, the witnessing, all unforgettable anguish.
Title: EXTREME HEAT
Year: 2023
Medium: Boiled Wool, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 44”
A chilling month
It was late November and the school day had come to an end. Someone was there to pick up me, my sister and brother. We were driven to our grandoarents, stunned into silence with the news that our home had burned to the ground. Everything was lost except a shoe-box of photographs and the piano, shoved out the front door.
in what was the cellar, roasted and charred potatoes spontaneously popped. Jars of preserves, jams and pickles exploded and the wooden barrel of paper-wrapped apples was in a charred heap. I left school and joined my father in the farm woodland to harvest trees that would be traded at the sawmill for lumber. We felled and limbed basswood, maple, ash, trees with the longest trunks. We separated trunks, firewood and brush. Our Belgian mare pulled each log to the barnyard with me on the reins and we lined them up side by side for easy pick-up. Remarkably, we were all back in the skeleton of our house to celebrate Christmas.
Year: 2023
Medium: Boiled Wool, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 44”
A chilling month
It was late November and the school day had come to an end. Someone was there to pick up me, my sister and brother. We were driven to our grandoarents, stunned into silence with the news that our home had burned to the ground. Everything was lost except a shoe-box of photographs and the piano, shoved out the front door.
in what was the cellar, roasted and charred potatoes spontaneously popped. Jars of preserves, jams and pickles exploded and the wooden barrel of paper-wrapped apples was in a charred heap. I left school and joined my father in the farm woodland to harvest trees that would be traded at the sawmill for lumber. We felled and limbed basswood, maple, ash, trees with the longest trunks. We separated trunks, firewood and brush. Our Belgian mare pulled each log to the barnyard with me on the reins and we lined them up side by side for easy pick-up. Remarkably, we were all back in the skeleton of our house to celebrate Christmas.
Title: SUDDENDLY, FUNGI
Year: 2023
Medium: Knitted And Woven Nettle Fibre
Dimensions: 72” X 40”
Inner Experience
Early one morning, I may have been seven or ten, I went out to explore our farm pasture. Suddenly, I noticed my feet were in a patch of morels. So exciting was this moment, I felt my heart pound. It takes time to see them, many are disguised until they come into focus. There was a bushel of them around me, maybe more. They came up overnight under an old oak tree and as I looked around, they were growing nowhere else . I gathered up the skirt of my dress, filled it with morels and hurried home to show my mother knowing she would share my excitement.
Year: 2023
Medium: Knitted And Woven Nettle Fibre
Dimensions: 72” X 40”
Inner Experience
Early one morning, I may have been seven or ten, I went out to explore our farm pasture. Suddenly, I noticed my feet were in a patch of morels. So exciting was this moment, I felt my heart pound. It takes time to see them, many are disguised until they come into focus. There was a bushel of them around me, maybe more. They came up overnight under an old oak tree and as I looked around, they were growing nowhere else . I gathered up the skirt of my dress, filled it with morels and hurried home to show my mother knowing she would share my excitement.
Title: FREEFALL
Year: 2024
Medium: Silk & Rayon, Cotton
Dimensions: 72” X 44”
Jumping and Falling
Once the hay was harvested and stored in the mow of the barn, my brother and me would play jump - a competitive game that he initiated. We’d climb the mow ladder to a small deck at the barn peak and together we’d jump and see who landed the farthest. The more the hay was used up, the higher the jump. But, when I was alone, I had a different desire. I wanted to see how it felt if I fell instead of jumped. Is it possible to just let myself go and fall? I really did try, a lot of times but as the hay got lower, other thoughts and feelings got in the way of falling.
Year: 2024
Medium: Silk & Rayon, Cotton
Dimensions: 72” X 44”
Jumping and Falling
Once the hay was harvested and stored in the mow of the barn, my brother and me would play jump - a competitive game that he initiated. We’d climb the mow ladder to a small deck at the barn peak and together we’d jump and see who landed the farthest. The more the hay was used up, the higher the jump. But, when I was alone, I had a different desire. I wanted to see how it felt if I fell instead of jumped. Is it possible to just let myself go and fall? I really did try, a lot of times but as the hay got lower, other thoughts and feelings got in the way of falling.
Title: BARRIER
Year: 2024
Medium: Knitted Nettle Fibre
Dimensions: H- 80” X W 30”
A Task So Daunting
Our white-faced Hereford bull spent his winters in the barn and each day he needed his daily drinking water. It was to be carried in buckets from the well to the barn, a distance of about a hundred feet. The snow was so deep, I had to alternate between carrying the bucket in front and at the side at shoulder height. Getting through the barrier of snow in boots was difficult enough and with even one bucket of water to carry, it was near impossible.
Year: 2024
Medium: Knitted Nettle Fibre
Dimensions: H- 80” X W 30”
A Task So Daunting
Our white-faced Hereford bull spent his winters in the barn and each day he needed his daily drinking water. It was to be carried in buckets from the well to the barn, a distance of about a hundred feet. The snow was so deep, I had to alternate between carrying the bucket in front and at the side at shoulder height. Getting through the barrier of snow in boots was difficult enough and with even one bucket of water to carry, it was near impossible.
Title: SHEDDING
Year: 2024
Medium: Silk Organza and Thread
Dimensions: 72” X 40”
The Gift
I spotted a snakeskin caught on the stalk of a bullrush in the wetland section of our farm. I waded through the water in my rubber boots to get it. Remarkably, it resembled the garter snake that shed it. Translucent and flexible, it made a faint squeaking sound as I folded it into an accordion pleat and placed it in my pocket. Once home, I carefully eased it into a tiny matchbox to preserve it. I loved to take it out of the box, spread it
to its full length and just handle my wondrous gift shed by a garter snake.
Year: 2024
Medium: Silk Organza and Thread
Dimensions: 72” X 40”
The Gift
I spotted a snakeskin caught on the stalk of a bullrush in the wetland section of our farm. I waded through the water in my rubber boots to get it. Remarkably, it resembled the garter snake that shed it. Translucent and flexible, it made a faint squeaking sound as I folded it into an accordion pleat and placed it in my pocket. Once home, I carefully eased it into a tiny matchbox to preserve it. I loved to take it out of the box, spread it
to its full length and just handle my wondrous gift shed by a garter snake.
Title: ROTATION
Year: 2024
Medium: Felted blanket and Roving
Dimensions: 72” X 44”
About turn
Our teacher in a one-room school was holding a world globe and showing the senior students how the earth turns on its axis. Sitting with the other primary children, I listened to what she said. Well, I was simply dumbfounded. I could not wait to get home. Once there, I lay face down in a large patch of camomile plants. Arms wide open, eyes shut, I was determined to stay until I felt the earth turn. Some time later, when I was sure it just wasn't going to happen, I flipped onto my back, feeling my whole body plunge to the left while I dizzily watched the clouds float off to the right.
Year: 2024
Medium: Felted blanket and Roving
Dimensions: 72” X 44”
About turn
Our teacher in a one-room school was holding a world globe and showing the senior students how the earth turns on its axis. Sitting with the other primary children, I listened to what she said. Well, I was simply dumbfounded. I could not wait to get home. Once there, I lay face down in a large patch of camomile plants. Arms wide open, eyes shut, I was determined to stay until I felt the earth turn. Some time later, when I was sure it just wasn't going to happen, I flipped onto my back, feeling my whole body plunge to the left while I dizzily watched the clouds float off to the right.
Title: RYTHYM
Year: 2023
Medium: Bleached Cotton, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 40”
The Rhythm of Stooking
Farming relies on natural rhythms. On waiting for, working through, and anticipating how day and night and the seasons affect the life cycles of plants and animals. How they in turn, affect what we do to sustain life year round. My awareness of these was on-going and coupled with the more sensory rhythms of ordinary days. Wagon wheels on gravel, horses running, pumping water at the well, a squeaking hinge, stooking grain - a sheaf to the east a sheaf to the west, a sheaf to the north and a sheaf to the south. Repeat, again and again and again.
Year: 2023
Medium: Bleached Cotton, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 40”
The Rhythm of Stooking
Farming relies on natural rhythms. On waiting for, working through, and anticipating how day and night and the seasons affect the life cycles of plants and animals. How they in turn, affect what we do to sustain life year round. My awareness of these was on-going and coupled with the more sensory rhythms of ordinary days. Wagon wheels on gravel, horses running, pumping water at the well, a squeaking hinge, stooking grain - a sheaf to the east a sheaf to the west, a sheaf to the north and a sheaf to the south. Repeat, again and again and again.
Title: ENTROPY
Year: 2024
Medium: Manipulated Linen, Plant Dye
Dimensions: 72” X 50”
So Much Messiness
Farming is messy. Spring melting and mud. Summer weeds competing with food plants.
Autumn manure to be spread in the fields. Winter snow, too much of it, to be moved. Those are the big messes. There is a multitude of smaller ones, all needing attention. What needs doing now? What can wait? It seemed then as it seems now, things continually fall into disorder.
Year: 2024
Medium: Manipulated Linen, Plant Dye
Dimensions: 72” X 50”
So Much Messiness
Farming is messy. Spring melting and mud. Summer weeds competing with food plants.
Autumn manure to be spread in the fields. Winter snow, too much of it, to be moved. Those are the big messes. There is a multitude of smaller ones, all needing attention. What needs doing now? What can wait? It seemed then as it seems now, things continually fall into disorder.
Title: HEATWAVE
Year: 2023
Medium: Linen, Cotton, Local Plant Dyes, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 40”
Drought
Summer seemed too long. The heat of the day and night was oppressive. There had been no rain in weeks. Fruit and vegetable yields prevented enough canning and preserving to get
through the winter. The animal food yield of hay, wheat and oats were at an all-time low.
Alfalfa and Timothy hay was reserved for the milking cows and horses. The cattle would have to be satisfied with marsh hay. Coarse and sharp, they refused to eat it until it was drizzled with black strap molasses. Scooping from those five gallon drums and drizzling molasses over the hay was but one meagre task to be done without waste.
Year: 2023
Medium: Linen, Cotton, Local Plant Dyes, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 40”
Drought
Summer seemed too long. The heat of the day and night was oppressive. There had been no rain in weeks. Fruit and vegetable yields prevented enough canning and preserving to get
through the winter. The animal food yield of hay, wheat and oats were at an all-time low.
Alfalfa and Timothy hay was reserved for the milking cows and horses. The cattle would have to be satisfied with marsh hay. Coarse and sharp, they refused to eat it until it was drizzled with black strap molasses. Scooping from those five gallon drums and drizzling molasses over the hay was but one meagre task to be done without waste.
Title: ICE & STONE
Year: 2024
Medium: Knitted and Felted Wool, Linen, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 44”
Stones and rocks
There were so many places on our farm where stones were stored. Gathered from the fields over many years, most were there when our family moved to the farm. There were islands of stones in the fields, stone fences dividing the fields, even piles of stones in unexpected places such as supporting the falling post of a gate or filling a hole under a fence. One field known as the 'sheep field' was littered with stones, many of them unmovable rocks. Sometime, not sure when, I learned about glaciers and all the stone and rock they left behind as they melted and receded. It changed how I viewed the soil on our farm. 'Gravelly loam', my father called it and as far as he was concerned, it was good soil.
Year: 2024
Medium: Knitted and Felted Wool, Linen, Silk
Dimensions: 72” X 44”
Stones and rocks
There were so many places on our farm where stones were stored. Gathered from the fields over many years, most were there when our family moved to the farm. There were islands of stones in the fields, stone fences dividing the fields, even piles of stones in unexpected places such as supporting the falling post of a gate or filling a hole under a fence. One field known as the 'sheep field' was littered with stones, many of them unmovable rocks. Sometime, not sure when, I learned about glaciers and all the stone and rock they left behind as they melted and receded. It changed how I viewed the soil on our farm. 'Gravelly loam', my father called it and as far as he was concerned, it was good soil.
Title: VESTIGE: A PLACE OF ABSENCE AND PRESENCE
Year: 2024
Medium: Wooden Frame, Metal Rods, Silk Organza
Dimensions: H- 9’ , W- 6’, D-8’
Absence and Presence
The farm that I knew as a youth has vanished. Though physically gone, my experience there has endured for a lifetime through affective memories, into adulthood, into my higher education and into my creative life.
Pass through these panels. Can you sense a brief experience yourself. Does a memory of your own come to mind?
Year: 2024
Medium: Wooden Frame, Metal Rods, Silk Organza
Dimensions: H- 9’ , W- 6’, D-8’
Absence and Presence
The farm that I knew as a youth has vanished. Though physically gone, my experience there has endured for a lifetime through affective memories, into adulthood, into my higher education and into my creative life.
Pass through these panels. Can you sense a brief experience yourself. Does a memory of your own come to mind?
Title: LIFESPAN: THEN TO NOW
Year: 2025
Medium: Photograph, Cloak, Stokes Carrier, Jute Weaving
Catherine’s Short Life
Catherine, the eighth child of our family was born in March of 1948 and died in May of the same year. For three days she lay in her satin-lined coffin in my parents’ bedroom. She wore her white christening dress and a tiny rosary passed through her fingers.
Home became quiet and vigil lights burned. We could go and be with her whenever we wished. I have little memory of her funeral mass except for trying to believe my mother’s promise while knowing Catherine was in that coffin. After the funeral mass, we all went to the gravesite where I caught a glimpse of the soil mound and the hole where her coffin would be lowered. How long did that indelible image remain in my mind? When did that deep feeling of sadness end, if ever?
Year: 2025
Medium: Photograph, Cloak, Stokes Carrier, Jute Weaving
Catherine’s Short Life
Catherine, the eighth child of our family was born in March of 1948 and died in May of the same year. For three days she lay in her satin-lined coffin in my parents’ bedroom. She wore her white christening dress and a tiny rosary passed through her fingers.
Home became quiet and vigil lights burned. We could go and be with her whenever we wished. I have little memory of her funeral mass except for trying to believe my mother’s promise while knowing Catherine was in that coffin. After the funeral mass, we all went to the gravesite where I caught a glimpse of the soil mound and the hole where her coffin would be lowered. How long did that indelible image remain in my mind? When did that deep feeling of sadness end, if ever?
Title: LIFESPAN: THEN TO NOW
Year: 2025
Medium: Photograph, Cloak, Stokes Carrier, Jute Weaving
Catherine’s Short Life
Catherine, the eighth child of our family was born in March of 1948 and died in May of the same year. For three days she lay in her satin-lined coffin in my parents’ bedroom. She wore her white christening dress and a tiny rosary passed through her fingers.
Home became quiet and vigil lights burned. We could go and be with her whenever we wished. I have little memory of her funeral mass except for trying to believe my mother’s promise while knowing Catherine was in that coffin. After the funeral mass, we all went to the gravesite where I caught a glimpse of the soil mound and the hole where her coffin would be lowered. How long did that indelible image remain in my mind? When did that deep feeling of sadness end, if ever?
Year: 2025
Medium: Photograph, Cloak, Stokes Carrier, Jute Weaving
Catherine’s Short Life
Catherine, the eighth child of our family was born in March of 1948 and died in May of the same year. For three days she lay in her satin-lined coffin in my parents’ bedroom. She wore her white christening dress and a tiny rosary passed through her fingers.
Home became quiet and vigil lights burned. We could go and be with her whenever we wished. I have little memory of her funeral mass except for trying to believe my mother’s promise while knowing Catherine was in that coffin. After the funeral mass, we all went to the gravesite where I caught a glimpse of the soil mound and the hole where her coffin would be lowered. How long did that indelible image remain in my mind? When did that deep feeling of sadness end, if ever?
Title: LIFESPAN: THEN TO NOW
Year: 2025
Medium: Photograph, Cloak, Stokes Carrier, Jute Weaving
Catherine’s Short Life
Catherine, the eighth child of our family was born in March of 1948 and died in May of the same year. For three days she lay in her satin-lined coffin in my parents’ bedroom. She wore her white christening dress and a tiny rosary passed through her fingers.
Home became quiet and vigil lights burned. We could go and be with her whenever we wished. I have little memory of her funeral mass except for trying to believe my mother’s promise while knowing Catherine was in that coffin. After the funeral mass, we all went to the gravesite where I caught a glimpse of the soil mound and the hole where her coffin would be lowered. How long did that indelible image remain in my mind? When did that deep feeling of sadness end, if ever?
Year: 2025
Medium: Photograph, Cloak, Stokes Carrier, Jute Weaving
Catherine’s Short Life
Catherine, the eighth child of our family was born in March of 1948 and died in May of the same year. For three days she lay in her satin-lined coffin in my parents’ bedroom. She wore her white christening dress and a tiny rosary passed through her fingers.
Home became quiet and vigil lights burned. We could go and be with her whenever we wished. I have little memory of her funeral mass except for trying to believe my mother’s promise while knowing Catherine was in that coffin. After the funeral mass, we all went to the gravesite where I caught a glimpse of the soil mound and the hole where her coffin would be lowered. How long did that indelible image remain in my mind? When did that deep feeling of sadness end, if ever?
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