Like a water lily finding its place in Claude Monet’s painting Pool, With Water Lilies, the namesake mare, Water Lily, seeks to find her place on the canvas of the Canadian equestrian world. It is not, however, as easy a task for the horse as Monet makes it seem for the flower.
Still, in appreciating the series of water lily paintings by Monet, we must remember that such perfection of placement is not always a facile achievement. We must remember not only the magnificence of Monet’s hand and artistic vision, his mastery of light, shadow and reflection, but also the faithful work of his gardener. The gardener, in a rowboat on the pond, in the gentle breeze of a summer morning at Giverny, hears the voice of Monet instructing him to clear away the dead leaves, to make room for the new and restore the perfection of the pool. It is pleasurable work, no doubt, hearing the swaying of the willows, immersed in the beauty of the gardens. But it must also have been pleasurable knowing how important that work was to the immortalization of the water gardens themselves, the pool with its tender lilies, by the art of the master. This tending of the pond by the hand of the gardener was an important companion, however much now forgotten or unknown, to the magnificence of the artistry of Monet itself. By the two pairs of hands, the peace and perfection of the water gardens were captured in oil on canvas. The perfection of the reality of the water garden laid the foundation for the perfection of its representation.
We can take from the paintings, as we can take from the beauty of the lily strewn pond itself, that life is, in good measure, about the peace that comes from finding one’s place in the world.
We can take from the paintings, as we can take from the beauty of the lily strewn pond itself, that life is, in good measure, about the peace that comes from finding one’s place in the world. Beauty and peace attend harmonious placement. They are too often absent when such placement remains elusive. You would be correct in surmising that Water Lily has found it somewhat of a challenge to find her place in the world. You might say, too, that her sometime rider, Candice Hudson, has found it to be the same.
Still, if we may draw yet another comparison with the artwork of Monet, what is fascinating to contemplate is not only the perfection of the water lily ponds at Giverny, not only the artistic masterpieces of Claude Monet, but how self-knowledge and the recognition and realization of human potential were foundational to the entire project. Monet suggests, in one quotation, that beyond painting and gardening he was good at nothing (“En dehors de la peinture et du jardinage je ne suis bon à rien!”). There is here a profound knowledge of self which understands one’s place and purpose in the world. But could we not go even a little further and suggest the same with respect to the gardener, too? The gardener who maintained the ponds was conceivably no less certain of his place and purpose in the world. When we look at Monet’s artwork we are given a glimpse of not only the brush in the hand of a master, as if that were not enough. We are also given a glimpse into the self-understandings of two determined and gifted men. One the painter, the other the groundskeeper. We must make allowance for both in truly understanding and appreciating the artistic and horticultural accomplishments the paintings represent.
“Outside of painting and gardening I am not good at anything.”
- Claude Monet (Author's Translation)
This, importantly, finds resonance in the equestrian world too. The story of Water Lily and Candice is not only one of exploring both sides of the horse and rider relationship, but also one of the need to grasp the self-understandings, and self-misunderstandings, that are manifest in both of them, and to follow their respective journeys towards a place of peace.
Perhaps, for example, we can imagine Water Lily’s true place in the world as one of performing as a dressage horse, or again, perhaps, as a jumper horse. It is a question, in part, of identifying the true state of the horse’s own way of being in the world. While each of these equine identities has inherent value and offers dignity, Candice feels that Water Lily’s real potential is as a jumper.
There are, certainly, various roles and goals that all have worth: gardener, artist, equestrian. To make that choice, however, it is a question of not only natural ability, but self-knowledge as well. Candice sees her own potential in a role which showcases a horsemanship which privileges the needs of the horse. It is a question, then, of understanding who one is, and where one’s potential lies. These questions lie at the heart of the challenge this rider-horse team faces. These questions lie at the heart of this series on Water Lily and Candice.
For some, especially the young whose transition from youth to adulthood is complicated at best, destructive at worse, the search for a place where one can settle down and undertake one’s life, and life’s work, is not always easy to find. We need to place roots, like lily flowers in Monet’s pool, finding what we need, with the help of mentors and loved ones all around us, encouraging us to move on into our lives and place our roots into occupations and locations which allow us to believe in ourselves and our work and our futures. We all at times, like Monet and his water lilies, need the helping hand of the “gardener”.
In this series in the coming weeks we will seek to explore these questions and follow the respective journeys of Water Lily and Candice as they seek to find their own places within the garden of the world.
WHO IS DOUGLAS ALLEN?
Douglas Allen is a PhD Candidate in History at the University of Toronto. His historical studies are of late medieval and Renaissance Europe. He is interested in using the lens of identity to explore and understand history, human motivation and action. Douglas is also a writer who is currently writing a novel set in the City of Winnipeg in the 1980’s, which explores the nature of indigenous and non-indigenous relations.