Mungo Martin: ‘10 times a chief’

So his people called the bespectacled old man in mackinaw who worked for years in the cold wind of an open shed in Victoria’s Thunderbird Park. It was fitting title for this remarkable self-appointed guardian of a heritage threatened by extinction.

The late Chief Mungo Martin’s unique story began at the opposite end of Vancouver Island, at historic Fort Rupert where, as a youngster, he began his apprenticeship in the secret art of carving at his father’s side. A sacred art among the Kwakwaka’wakw Nation (formerly known as the Kwakiutl Nation), totem carving was passed from father to son, like the artisans of medieval Europe.

As part of his introduction to the legendary craft, the child had experienced the ritual of having had four eyebrows plucked and woven into a tiny paintbrush to “endow him with artistic gifts,” and having been placed in a wooden box drum which was then beaten to “imbue him with musical skills”. The mystical ceremony must have had some effect as, by the time of Mungo’s death in 1962, he’d single-handedly rescued the province’s most distinctive art form from oblivion and made himself internationally recognized.

Even as a child Mungo set out to keep traditions alive

While his young friends played, Mungo had whittled by himself, or listened to the old men of the village tell of the days and ways long gone. Later, Mungo began memorising the legends and songs. When his father died and his mother remarried, teen-aged Mungo apprenticed with his stepfather, the noted carver Charlie James.

But, as with most artists of all races, Mungo had known frustrating years. During this period, like most of his tribe, he’d earned a livelihood by fishing, able to carve only in his spare time. By the 1920s, American vacationers were paying as much as $300 each for his beautiful creations.

He’d gained such stature by 1947 that the University of British Columbia asked him to take charge of a totem pole restoration program. Five years later, the B.C. Government having embarked on a program to “help perpetuate carving totems,” Mungo was named provincial chief carver for the B.C. Museum.

During the next 10 years he worked diligently at his almost forgotten craft in Thunderbird Park. In that time, thousands of tourists and residents had watched in admiration as the aging carver with his strange looking tools had created story and song in rough cedar logs.

Racial snub almost ended Mungo’s carving career in Victoria

This productive period had almost ended on an unpleasant note in 1955 when, applying for lodging for his family, Mungo had been rejected because he was aboriginal. When newspapers reported the snub, he’d been besieged with offers. Instead of returning to Alert Bay, he remained at his work in Thunderbird Park.

These had been lonely years for Mungo, far from home and family. During the potlatch which celebrated completion of Kwakiutal House in the park in 1953, he told the gathered chieftains: “Now Nuknenes, now we are finished. That is the way I wanted you to come. Thank you. Thank you, chiefs. You have put strength into me, for I was very weak all by myself away from home. I almost cry sometimes when there is nobody to help me.

“And you have come to help, you with your famous names, you chiefs. You have strengthened me. Your fame will spread because you are here. You have strength for you know everything. You too have been left to take up the duties which have been passed on to you. So you will help me to finish what I want to do.”

Mungo’s 30-metre totem was world’s tallest

In 1956 Mungo began his best-known creation, the world’s tallest totem. Carved from a 250-year-old cedar, the 30-metre (127-foot) monument was financed through public subscription and took Mungo, his son David Martin and grandson Henry Hunt six months to complete.

A bronze plaque set in granite reads: “Symbolic of a proud race; memento of the nation’s infancy; monument to a rare native art; proof of a united community interest; and the purest form of Canadiana.”

Mungo’s most thrilling moment came two years later when the totem he’d carved for B.C.’s Centennial was presented to the Queen Mother at Windsor who was filling in for her daughter, Queen Elizabeth, confined to bed with a sinus infection. Wearing his ceremonial robes of crimson and white, Mungo dedicated the totem before a rapt audience of thousands.

Before returning to Victoria, he enjoyed a brief tour of the country, including a visit to Oxford University Museum which contains many B.C. First Nations relics collected by Capt. James Cook. Upon his return Mungo was greeted by hundreds, including Victoria Mayor Percy Scurrah, in an open-air ceremony in Beacon Hill Park.

“The world to me from the air looked like a long sand bar with lots of clams!” he exclaimed when asked about his trip.

With international fame came personal tragedy

A month later, it was announced that Mungo would represent the province in Quebec at a national handicraft show. But September 1959 brought tragedy. David, a commercial fisherman when not carving with his father, was lost at sea. He’d but recently decided to follow in Mungo’s footsteps.
Two months later, Victorians learned the full extent of the old chieftain’s tragedy. In a highly emotional rite in Kwakiutl House, the tribal house he’d built in Thunderbird Park, Mungo gave all his cherished ceremonial garments and masks to the province.

“I am in darkness,” he said in a choked voice. “I cannot carry on. All my life I have worked so we would be known by the different nations. I carried on alone, when the different tribes had stopped [preserving traditions] because I wanted to prove my love to my son.”

With David’s death, tradition demanded the treasure of masks and relics be burned to transport them to the after life. Mungo honoured his people’s traditions. But he’d dedicated his life to the preservation of their culture.

Tearfully, he continued: “My wife and I thought night after night if it was right or wrong to give these away. With them we could not forget our son. Now he is gone. Now I am alone. I don’t want to see these masks any more.”

Province accepted Martin family masks as a memorial

Education Minister Leslie Peterson, on behalf of the province, replied that the collection would be a “permanent memorial to you, Chief Mungo Martin, and to your son.”

On May 28, 1960, a 12-foot totem bearing the Martin family crests was erected beside a stone monument in Courtenay that Mungo had carved in memory of David.

A year later, Mungo was invited to carve a “symbolic” pole in Times Square “under the eyes of curious New Yorkers” by the Century 21 World’s Fair management of Seattle. The offer included payment of all expenses and Mungo joked with reporters, “Yes, I’d like to go but once I get to New York I may never come back.”

However, Mungo’s health caused negotiations to fall through. In the summer of 1962 he entered hospital for the last time. At 7 o’clock in the morning of Aug. 6, the weary master carver passed away in his sleep ending a career which had spanned two centuries and two civilizations. He was 83.

At his funeral Frederica de Laguna of Bryn Mawr College said in a farewell speech, “Perhaps no Canadian Indian did more than Chief Martin to secure recognition and honour for the culture of his people, and so helped to win for the Indian equal rights under Canadian laws.”

Mungo’s coffin carried to Alert Bay by a naval destroyer escort

In a unique tribute, pallbearers of the Royal Canadian Navy carried his beautiful cedar coffin to the HMCS Ottawa, where they were met by a guard of honour and piped aboard. Mungo’s coffin, covered with flowers, was placed on the quarterdeck by four sentries with fixed bayonets for the voyage to Alert Bay.

Widow Abaya Martin read Mungo’s last wishes to the press. He’d changed his mind about being buried at his Fort Rupert birthplace, choosing Alert Bay that his relatives might find it easier to visit. He’d also asked that the provincial government permit his proteges, Henry Hunt and his son Tony Hunt, to continue his work.

84-year-old Abayah Martin (Sarah Constance) soon joined Mungo in death. Noted for her weaving of rare Chilcat blankets, one of her masterpieces had been presented to Queen Elizabeth at her coronation in 1953. Another is in the Royal B.C. Museum.

Mungo was posthumously accorded yet another honour, the Canada Council Medal which is granted to “persons in Canada for outstanding accomplishments in the arts, humanities or social sciences”. The second Canadian to receive this coveted award posthumously, Mungo was the first aboriginal to be so distinguished, the Council citing his “contribution to Canada’s artistic, cultural and intellectual life”.

The Council also noted Mungo’s work in the “recordings of songs, ceremonies and other Kwakiutl cultures”.

Mungo created more than totem poles

Unable to read or write in English, Mungo had drawn upon his prodigious memory to record on tape the songs and ceremonial chants of his people. He left future generations flawlessly executed ritual masks, carved dishes, paintings and copper work, in addition to his famous royal and world’s tallest totems.

His had been an awesome burden. More than any other person he’d saved his people’s culture and traditions from oblivion. As he’d once said, “Nobody knows now. Only me.”

Of all the international and impressive honours accorded this amazing man, perhaps that which Mungo Martin most appreciated was bestowed upon him by his own people. It was the title, ‘Naka penkum.”

It means, “Ten times a chief.”

UPDATE:

In January, the re-dedication of a totem pole beside Victoria’s Inner Harbour was reported to have “showcased the artistic talent that runs through generations of the Hunt family”.

For almost half a century, the four-metre-tall ‘Kwakiutl Bear Pole’ has adorned the corner of Government and Belleville streets. Carved by Henry Hunt, Mungo’s son-in-law, it was in need of refurbishing and Henry’s son Tony Hunt did the restoration work. The fourth generation carver said it was an honour to be able to work on his father’s creation which will eventually be moved indoors to protect it from further deterioration by the weather.

Not so, this time, however. A 37-foot totem pole in Mexico City commissioned by the federal government and carved by Tony Hunt Sr. under Mungo’s direction, is in need of restoration. But, as of April 2014, the job is going to Bowen Island-based conservator, Andrew Todd, said to be an “internationally recognized restoration expert”.

Tony Hunt, who was asked to take part only as a consultant, told the Times–Colonist that the contract was disrespectful to him and to his grandfather, whom he termed “one of the greatest artists of his time”.

The Mexico City totem was the first he worked on with his grandfather and one of Mungo’s last major projects. Many of the 100-odd totems carved by Tony Hunt Sr. world-wide have also been restored by other artisans over the years. None of their work has been up to his standard, he said.