("Begging bear" dressed for Canada Day, 2009. Photo by Allan MacKeeman. Courtesy of Guelph Public Library,
F70-0-2-0-0-16.)
The body was found lying on the ground in front of the Macdonald Stewart Art Gallery (now the Art Gallery of Guelph) shortly before midnight on the night of Friday, 18 March 2011. Not long before, a gang of ruffians had descendend on the victim, knocking him down from his pedestal, taking pictures of themselves standing over him, and then fleeing the scene.
("The Begging Bear, uprooted and temporarily relocated inside the Macdonald Stewart Art Centre," 21 March 2011. Courtesy of
Wikimedia Commons.)
The victim was a character widely known and admired in the city of Guelph, the Begging Bear.
Eyewitnesses testified that a group of men had been seen jumping on the bear, causing the bronze animal to sway back and forth until the concrete pins that connected him to his footing shattered, thus toppling him over (Mercury, 22 March 2011). Besides taking pictures of themselves in the act, mud found on the side of the bear suggested that the perpetrators had tried to drag the body away though, weighing in at more than 300 pounds, their attempts were stymied.
Characterizing the deed as a "senseless act of vandalism," Guelph police questioned witnesses and scoured social media for clues. The townsfolk were scandalized. Shocked citizens wrote to the Gallery to find out what had happened and where the bear had gone. Happily, Aiden Ware, then co-ordinator of education and development at the art centre, could tell them that the bear had been retrieved by the Gallery and was awaiting rehabilitation.
("Begging bear," ca. 2010. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums,
2013.51.145.)
As an anonymous letter to the Mercury (22 March 2011) noted, reaction to his toppling revealed the Bear's significance to the community:
The extent of the upset over this marring of this public artwork is quite incredible. Perhaps, however, for the thousands who typically pass by it and note its latest look, the extent of the attachment for the bear comes as no surprise. Hundreds of people have interacted with the bear: dressed it; adorned it; photographed it. It has become part of many community statements, causes and celebrations. It has been a sort of mascot in the battle against the spread of AIDS-HIV, a statement of boosterism for various teams, a kiddie art camp canvass - among many other things.
It's just a sculpture and not. In many ways, this bear has become an honorary citizen, an ambassador, a vestige of Guelph and even beyond that—something that comforts the city, adds to its character and provides it creative oxygen.
Others wrote in to suggest ironically that the men who did the deed were heroes who had saved the city from an importunate artwork, or that the Bear had attacked them first so that they merely acted in self-defence.
The Begging Bear was sent to the Artcast foundry in Georgetown, where his wounds would be healed, some dings and scratches repaired, a nice black patina applied. Given his importance to the populace, it was decided that the Bear would be returned to his spot in front of the art centre but fitted with a new and more resiliant base to ensure that the Bear would not have to endure another toppling.
("Raise the bear" flyer for the "Share your care for our bear!" campaign. Courtesy of
the Art Gallery of Guelph.)
The bill for the work was in excess of $11,000, of which only $4,500 was covered by insurance (Mercury, 11 July 2011). So, the Centre held a fundraising campaign entitled "Share Your Care for Our Bear." Donations were generous and the full amount, plus a little to help out other deserving artworks, was raised.
(The Begging Bear is placed on his new plinth ahead of its re-unveiling. Courtesy of
the Art Gallery of Guelph.)
The Begging Bear was back in place in time for a re-introduction cermemony on 1 October 2011, in front of an appreciative crowd. And there he remains to this day.
The full name of this sculpture is the Canadiana/Begging Bear, created by artist Carl Skelton. In 1995, Skelton created the first iteration of the bear for an exhibition entitled "Wild Life" curated by John Massler of the Koffler Gallery, Toronto. This Bear was made of urethane foam, autobody filler, and aluminum and stood 77 inches (195 cm) tall. In keeping with the exhibition theme, the Bear was intended to reflect one of the original and wild denizens of the Toronto region. (Thus the "Canadiana" in the name.) It was duly exhibited in the Toronto Sculpture Garden.
("Canadiana/Begging Bear" exhibited at
the Toronto Sculpture Garden, ca. 1998. Photo by W.N. Greer.)
However, the form of Bear was modeled not on any natural pose but on a posture a taxidermist would choose. Even so, the smooth face and upturned paw depart from the bared teeth and claws one might expect from a stuffed bruin. Instead of making viewers feel like they should prepare to flee from an attack, the begging posture invites them to approach.
("Macdonald Stewart Art Centre," ca. 2000 by Fred Dahms. Courtesy of the Guelph Civic Museums,
2013.51.105.)
Perhaps it was this quality that attracted the interest of the Art Centre. There, the Donald Foster Sculpture Park had been instituted in 1983 on the grounds of the Centre as a place for artistic activities and public artworks. The Begging Bear seemed like a good fit, so a bronze version was cast and installed in a particularly public location, near a busy Gordon street sidewalk and a well-used bus stop. It was almost as if the new denizen was begging for attention.
(Carl Skelton poses with his Canadian/Begging Bear sculpture at its official unveiling, 1999. Courtesy of
the Art Gallery of Guelph.)
The Begging Bear was officially unveiled at 7:30pm on 23 September 1999, with Carl Skelton in attendance.
It took little time for the citizenry to relate to the Bear. Less than a year later, the Mercury showed a picture of the Bear wearing a nice necktie, with the comment (16 June 2000):
The Begging Bear statue outside the MacDonald Stewart Art Gallery was spiffed up on Thursday with a necktie. The bear, with outstretched hand, has been spotted variously holding everything from snowballs to loose change since it was installed last fall.
As many Guelphites know from personal experience, the Bear has been dressed in many ways for many occasions since that time. It would be quite a daunting task to catalogue them.
("Carl Skelton: Canadiana/Begging Bear. 1995—1999, bronze, 6.4' x 3.3' x 2.0'." Postcard produced 2004.)
Happily, the Centre chose to spread the fame of the Bear through the medium of postcards. A set of cards was ordered late in 2003 and, no doubt, made their way into the gift shop early in 2004. The image shows the bear leaning forward as if to reach outside the frame of the postcard, making a request of some unseen passer by.
(Begging bear in a crate, 2021. Courtesy of
the Art Gallery of Guelph.)
After its toppling in 2011, perhaps the most noted public intervention with the Begging Bear was the time it was crated. In July 2021, the Bear was found to be encased in a wooden crate, with only his begging arm sticking out (Mercury, 24 August 2021). Stapled to the crate were what appeared to be police citations for "solicitation in aggressive manner." An "eviction notice" and a "notice to vacate" were also attached, stating that the "homeless" bear was no longer permitted to occupy the sculpture park.
The crating was part of an artist's protest against the criminalization of homelessness. Happily, the Bear was not actually evicted and the crating was later removed.
(Guerilla postcard of the Begging Bear in a crate, 2021. Courtesy of
the Art Gallery of Guelph.)
However, the artist also took a photo of the crated Bear, printed postcards of it, and snuck them into the Art Gallery's gift shop, placing them there as if they were part of the regular merchandise. Once the ruse was discovered, it was decided to let people take them at no charge if they wished, while a copy was kept for the Gallery's collection.
(Picasso bear, no date. Courtesy of
the Art Gallery of Guelph.)
It's interesting to pause and consider the Bear's place in the history of Guelph's public art. In 1999, he joined a group of statuary including the Blacksmith Fountain, Old Jeremiah, and the Fountain Family. Later members include the Guelph Gryphon and the John McCrae statue at the Civic Museum. So, the Begging Bear is in good company but he remains, arguably, pre-eminent among them. He's just so approachable in so many ways.
("He?" you may ask? Many mentions of the Begging Bear in print use the masculine gender. I have yet to see anyone use "she" or "her." Perhaps it's the dad bod?)
The Begging Bear has endured its many "interventions," including his 2011 toppling, with panache and good grace. With luck, he will continue to grace his central place in the land and minds of Guelphites for years to come.
(Courtesy of Google Street View.)
On the fifth anniversary of the toppling of the Bear, Bill Bean asked creator Carl Skelton what he thought of the Guelph public's relationship with the bear, as revealed by his many costume changes and their response to his toppling. Skelton made some interesting observations, which I will quote here (Mercury, 28 January 2016):
The creator of the Begging Bear, Toronto-born artist Carl Skelton, is "thrilled" that this love affair has happened, although perhaps, he is not that surprised.
Skelton is industry professor and the founding director of the Brooklyn Experimental Media Center and the academic programs in integrated digital media at the Polytechnic Institute of New York University.
Skelton saw the potential for "playful relationships" with the sculpture when the bear was first installed briefly in the Toronto Sculpture Garden, that happened to include a pathway commonly used by homeless people. Skelton says he wasn't sure then what the response would be from the panhandling public to a panhandling bear. But they embraced Bear as one of their own.
Public art has its pitfalls, says Skelton: "Public art can be alienating." When the Macdonald Stewart gallery sought to acquire the Begging Bear, he suspected that a university city like Guelph might result in "grass skirts and coconut bras" for the bear. And, he wondered about the "awkward relationship" with a panhandling bear outside a public institution. But Skelton says the Begging Bear is a Guelph success story.
"Ultimately, the bear succeeds or fails as a personification of the public-ness of the people. The things that people do to, with, or around the bear is a public gesture. Investing in it, to begin with, is a public gesture; taking a picture with it is a public gesture."
Skelton says the real story of the Begging Bear is how the incident united citizens in Guelph. "The whole town got together - you respected yourselves. The public art wasn't the bear - it was the story you built when something bad happened to it.
"The bear has done a better-than-average job of representing you folks (of Guelph) to each other. It represents Guelph to Guelph."
("
Stuffed grizzly bear," courtesy of Cristie Guevara.)
Among other things, the Begging Bear is meant to remind us that bears were once denizens of the land where we live now. When thinking of this, I am reminded of a local bear story related by Charles McTague, scion of the McTague family after whom McTague street was named. He was born in Guelpn in 1837 and lived in town his whole life. The Mercury (2 March 1916) asked him for some reminiscences of the town's early days, and the following bear story was among them:
“Don’t put this down,” said Mr. McTague, “because no one will believe it, but it is true. In those days there were a lot of rough-cast houses at the corner of Norfolk and Cork streets, where Maurice O’Connor afterwards built his terrace, and Jack Henry kept a boot and shoe store there. On the opposite side of Norfolk street, on the Convent grounds, there was a rail fence enclosing a field of grain. While the shoemakers were working at Henry’s one day a friend came around and stood in the doorway and engaged in the conversation. His eyes were red, and I guess he had been boozing the night before. This man looked across the street and saw something in the grain field. He asked, “What is that, in the grain?” and then said, “I’m going over to see.” He went over to the field, and came running back with eyes sticking out of his head, and said, “It’s a bear.” Well, one picked up a boot, another a “tree,” someone else a hammer, and they went off after the bear. George Perkins was the only man in the party who had a shot gun. They chased the bear down toward Presant’s mill, up toward the Eramosa bridge, and out to the bush at St. Joseph’s hospital. And do you know, Perkins stepped on the bear. Well, he got so excited that he kicked it and threw down the shot gun.”
“Did they get the bear?” asked the reporter.
“No,” said Mr. McTague, laughing, “it got away.”
“Years afterwards, I asked Perkins if it was true that he threw away the gun and kicked the bear. He laughed and said, “Yes, as true as it is that I am standing here.”
The next time you see the Begging Bear, bear this little story in mind.
