Hon. Pamela Wallin: When I arrived in New York as consul general in the wake of 9/11, conversation, understanding were sorely needed. We were regularly invited to see our American neighbours, and we invited them back to our official Canadian home to share stories at the dinner table. I looked for a special piece of art to display on the dining-room wall, as art often sparks easy conversation. A stunning landscape by Dorothy Knowles did just that. Road to the West it was called. It turned heads and connected strangers. Her expansive paintings always captured the feel of the place, not just the geography.

Dorothy was born on a farm near Unity in 1927. Growing up in the Dirty Thirties, the brutality and the beauty of the land were imprinted, perhaps seared, on your soul as an artist.

The hardscrabble life shaped the way people looked at life and the land. We call it “next-year country,” a place where hope survives but realism reigns. Life is hard; determination is needed. It inspires art that is rooted in place. It was Dorothy’s signature style. Her paintings always made you feel as if you were looking through an open window. You know the old saying: In Saskatchewan you can watch your dog run away for two days.

Her landscapes were indeed breathtaking, but she produced still life and portraits. She was a relentless gardener on old homesteads that she shared with her artist husband, William Perehudoff, and she sewed for daughters, even for their Barbie dolls.

Dorothy had set out to study biology, but a friend persuaded her to take an art course at the famous Emma Lake. The workshops there were catnip to artists everywhere, the U.S. and Europe. Academics, painters, poets all flocked to Saskatchewan, finding the northern beauty and the intensity of the artists’ community simply irresistible.

Dorothy became a powerful force, an influencer before we used the moniker, giving young artists the courage to paint. For her success, she has Saskatchewan’s Order of Merit and the Order of Canada, and I had the honour of presenting her with the Senate One Hundred and Fiftieth Anniversary Medal. Yet, Dorothy Knowles remained incredibly humble and unpretentious.

Of her prolific career, she confessed:

I just want to pour that out on the canvas: My love for the landscape, my love for the trees and the wonderful radiance of the skies.

When asked for her advice on what to paint, Knowles said:

. . . set up facing the most traditionally picturesque vista you could find, then turn around and paint whatever was behind you.

Dorothy Knowles died peacefully last Tuesday at the age of 96. She was still putting brush to canvas. Her work will always be a touchstone for me and for many more. Thank you.