Spotlight

“Silver Morning” is an 11x14 oil on canvas by Matt Kania. To view more from Kania, go to: mattkania.com. | MATT KANIA

By Breana Johnson

According to the calendar, Sunday, March 20 marks the first day of spring. However, those of us on the North Shore will likely still be playing in the snow for a while. So, here’s to enjoying the last stretch of winter—spring is right around the corner.

CREATIVE SPACE: By Peter Fergus-Moore

For some us, knowing what we are to make of our lives comes late, if not at all. For others, the pathway stretches ahead, readily visible. Kaministiquia artist Hanna Wainio is one of the latter.

“I think I have always been creative,” she reflects. “I grew up in a creative environment, loved making things with my hands.”

It didn’t hurt that Wainio’s mother, Judi Vinni, is also an artist and community animator who operates Willow Springs Creative Centre in the old Koski General Store on Mapleward Road in rural Thunder Bay. In fact, from the Centre’s beginnings in 2000, Wainio spent most of her summers at art camps under the tutelage of her mother Judi and colleagues Lea Hayes, Liisa Leskowski and Kathy Toivonen.

The variety of art camp offerings, everything from painting to screen printing, from making willow furniture to tie-dyeing, stood Wainio in good stead when she chose to attend the visual arts program at York University.

“I tried everything there,” she relates, though she chose ahead of graduation to move over to the independent illustration program at Seneca College, to pick up what she calls “the tool kit for illustration.”

Armed with these learnings and experiences, Wainio had every intention of making a living from her art. But first, she had to relocate to the fountainhead of her inspiration, the rugged beauty of the north shore region of Lake Superior.

“I think nature does affect my art,” she explains. “You can tell on my Instagram pages when I moved—I didn’t have to take in all the sights and sounds of Toronto. Being here helps me relax, to feel more connected to how I grew up with no one around, on 260 acres of bush land.”

Immersed in the natural milieu of the northwest, Wainio creates worlds of whimsical creatures in gentle, colourful environments. A frequent character in her illustrations is Koo the raven, a fussy, occasionally bossy presence. Koo gazes over her spectacles at the comfortable world in which she lives, sometimes interacting with her companion, Gully, a small but forthright crow who seems to be perpetually commenting on something Koo has said or done.

“I’ve always been interested in stories of fairies, classical fairy tales,” Wainio says, but her ethnicity provides another tributary into the river of her creativity. “I went to Finn school when I was young, so I learned about Moomintroll and Tove Jansson. She’s one of my main influences.”

The late Finnish artist and storyteller Tove Jansson wrote and illustrated the Moomintroll series, which has millions of fans over generations and farflung geographies. Part of Jansson’s genius lies in her stories’ portrayal of deep and problematic issues in a deceptively simple way, something that plays right into Wainio’s art. It doesn’t hurt that the hippopotamus-like Moomis, as they are often known, encounter life with a childlike innocence and a startling flexibility. Wainio has even done her own Moomi fan art, but generally works more on her own original creations.

The scope of Wainio’s creations is immense—she primarily works in digital art, but in the last several years, she has worked also in polymer clay, embroidery and cloth art, creating clay pins, trinket dishes, patches, little bags, and of course, images. Wainio has used social media to create interest and demand for her work.

“My art provides about 75 percent of my income,” she says. “Sales have been really awesome. I’m amazed! Orders come in all the time from all over Europe, Thailand, England, but mostly the U.S. and Canada.”

Though Wainio’s ambition to make a living by her art seems to be well on track, she still does freelance illustration. This, too, has made people take notice.

“I had one illustration in Read Something Else: Dubious Wit and Wisdom, a book of Lemony Snickett quotes,” Wainio says modestly. “I really prefer to publish my own works, though.”

“I always want to give people a feeling of comfort and coziness,” she reflects. “I create the chance for everyday magic in my work, putting nice things, cozy things, in the world. I work from a place of love, things I loved as a child. I want to put more of that in the world.”

Hanna Wainio’s art can be found on Instagram: hwainio and online: etsy.com/ shop/hannawainio.

Behind the Craft: By Laura Brown

My name is Laura and I am indoorsy. Now, I love a good walk or ski in the woods, or a wander along the lake, but I come from a long line of people who are content to sit in a room and read different books together. So, unlike many of the stories I hear about what brings people to the North Shore, the main reason I moved here was not for canoeing or backwoods camping. It was quilting.

I moved to Grand Marais at the end of August to participate in the Artisan Development Program at North House Folk School. My goals: to make quilts, learn about natural dyes and generally enjoy the slower pace of small-town life.

The long nights, cold temperatures and growing snow banks are my cue to settle into the studio and sew. From piecing scraps of fabric together, to the hours of hand quilting, I love every step of this process. Experimentation and play blend with repetition as I determine a layout for the top of the quilt, layer fabric and batting together, and stitch it by hand. These tasks are slow. I am grateful for both the parts of the process that engage my attention, and those where my hands take over, letting my mind wander or take in an audiobook.

Quilting is an old practice and has history in most parts of the world. Textiles are as fundamental to human lives as shelter and food, and developments in weaving and sewing were often advanced to create housing structures, garments and functional, decorative domestic items. Sewing and quilting feel primal to me, in the sense that I feel connected to other makers by this practice. This is probably partly inherited: my mom taught me to sew. She learned from her mother, and her grandmother was a professional seamstress. There are countless anonymous makers throughout history who turned old fabric into new things through the practice of quilting, whose work continues to inspire me.

By training, I am a printmaker. Printmaking is sometimes referred to as “graphic art” because various forms of it were predecessors to modern day graphic design. But the word graphic is also used to describe artwork that contains bold shapes and colors. I can see this quality in both my prints and my quilts. Color is my favorite of all the design elements, so it is often a starting point in a new project. In the context of printmaking, I mix my own colors of ink. When quilting, I choose colors and prints from a wide collection of fabric that has come to me over the years from thrift stores, estate sales, friends and strangers. I love to work within made up parameters: using what I already have and a specific starting point of shapes or colors. There is a language to quilting, in the shapes and patterns of traditional quilt blocks, with names that are common or slightly varied based on region.

I think about these common histories and practices as I sew (glad I have an electric iron, a sewing machine and good lighting to work with). I think about the person who will own it, the beauty and comfort it provides, and the way it will hopefully be both used and cared for. So let the wind howl and the snow come down—I’ll be in the studio, stitching away.