Five Parliaments   Visiting the Canadian Parliament in Ottawa was not part of some "let's visit lots of parliaments" program. I was aware that this visit wasn't a one-off, that I'd been to others, but now, months after Ottawa and preparing this posting, have I sat down and calculated that Ottawa's is the fifth parliament I've visited. Since its architecture and the details of the Great Fire of 1916 impressed me so much, it's definitely the only on I've discussed so thoroughly. It also occurred to me that perhaps it's worth saying a few words about the others I've toured, plus mentioning a couple more that I haven't.

In counting parliaments after the fact like this, I find it best to consider Europe separate from elsewhere. Anyone visiting European capitals is bound to come across their legislative buildings, but mostly it's a government building of local interest. I think I've seen many of these from the outside, most recently the Alþing in Reykjavik (2012/21).

But some of those seen from the outside, yet not visited, stand out. Two come immediately to mind, and are worth mentioning. They're in London and Budapest.

The British Parliament is arguably the most famous one in the world. I've seen it from all sides, including down from the London Eye ferris wheel across the Thames, but I've never toured it. It's now on my to-do list. It's the institution whose model of parliamentary democracy has been adopted by many countries. But of course our point of view here is the institution secondarily and the building primarily, as to architecture and history. The present Houses of Parliament (Photo by Alvesgaspar) in London (technically in Westminster) are among the most recognizable buildings in the world, for their architecture and for their spectacular location on the bank of the Thames.

The official name is the Palace of Westminster, Westminster because of its location, which is also opposite Westminster Abbey, but why "palace". Well, for historical reasons, although in this case the word is quite antiquated, which is why the name is rarely used. It's the third building on the site. The original 11C Palace of Westminster was a royal palace, but it burned in 1512. Its replacement was also technically a royal palace, but was used instead for the two houses of Parliament. This structure was destroyed by an even greater fire in 1834. This event was famously captured in several paintings by the artist J M W Turner, in his unique style that foresaw impressionism a half-century early. The common name for these paintings is The Burning of the Houses of Parliament, although the technical name is The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons. When finally rebuilt, it was done so in the now familiar Gothic Revival style in the manner of what had been the late Gothic style in England known as Perpendicular because of its emphasis on vertical lines.

The most famous feature of the Houses of Parliament is the clock tower commonly referred to as Big Ben (Photo by DAVID ILIFF. License: CC-BY-SA 3.0) (click for spectacular detail). Actually, "Big Ben" refers only to the large bell in the tower, but that stops no one from saying they're taking a picture of "Big Ben" when they see its tower. However, it no longer is referred to simply as the Clock Tower. Based on the fact that the large tower on the opposite end of the buildings is called the Victoria Tower, named for her on her diamond jubilee, last year, 2012, the Clock Tower was renamed the Elizabeth Tower to commemorate Queen Elizabeth's Diamond Jubilee. This occurred on 12 September, just days before I visited the Ottawa Parliament.

Anyone who has been to Budapest cannot forget the Hungarian Parliament, completed in 1904, and very reminiscent of London, which is why the two stay together in my mind. This building, the largest in Hungary, stands out not only because of its spectacular Gothic Revival architecture, but because of its location on the Danube, as the British Parliament is on the Thames.

Those couple of examples that I haven't toured aside, I slowly reconstructed the list of those I had toured, and the total came to five. Only one turned out to be in Europe.

The German Parliament: Bundestag in the Reichstag (Building)   The famous word that will first come to mind is Reichstag, but Bundestag should follow right behind. Both names need explaining. Reich is perhaps an unusual, and therefore interesting, word. It's based on reichen "to reach", and is related to English "reach" as well. Why does it refer to an empire? It's the "reach" of the emperor's power, or the area within the borders to which that power reaches. I find it quaint how the word means what it does. In German, "the British Empire" is das Britische Reich, literally the British Reach.

Bund comes from binden "to bind". States that are "bound" together form a federation, which is what a Bund is. Thus the Reichstag was the Imperial Parliament and today's Bundestag is the Federal Parliament.

There was a Reichstag that met in Berlin starting in the late 19C in this Reichstag Building, shown as it looked when it opened in 1894. Note in particular the style and shape of the central dome. This building housed the Reichstag under various governments until 1933, when it was severely damaged in the famous Reichstag fire, an arson attack on the building on 27 February 1933, and event pivotal in the establishment of Nazi Germany. The circumstances of the fire are not entirely known, but the Nazis tried to blame the Communists, and used the fire as a pretext to suspend most rights provided for by the 1919 Weimar Constitution.

The building stood mostly as a ruin for 57 years, until after German reunification in 1990, when it was restored under British celebrity architect Norman Foster. When the restoration was complete in 1999, the modern Bundestag left Bonn and moved into the building. Thus two words are needed to describe the institution as opposed to the building, such as the US Congress being located in the Capitol (Building). In this case the Bundestag is located in the Reichstag (Building). It was one of the first things Beverly and I wanted to visit in Berlin on our return to Europe in July 2000.

In the restoration, the entire interior was gutted, a new interior was built within the original walls, and a new dome was added. Today, this is what the Reichstag Building (Photo by Mfield) looks like. Again, note the dome.

The huge glass dome, which is a gesture toward the original cupola, has a mirrored, inverted-cone column in the center reflecting light right down into the Bundestag, and also allows visitors to look down into the chamber. Visitors reach the dome via a lift, then use circular helix-like ramps to the top, which has an open oculus to the sky. The dome gives an impressive 360° view over Berlin, and symbolizes that the people are above the government, the reverse of the case under National Socialism. I found on YouTube a curious 59-second animation with pictures that explains how the elements just described fit together within the dome. Pause at the first picture at 0:24 to see the view from outside with the open oculus at the top; at 0:32 see the mirrored column reflecting down into the Bundestag; at 0:36 see the ramps with the view.

The Reichstag is now, somewhat amazingly to me, the second most visited indoor attraction in Germany by a long shot, largely because of the dome. I just read that there are no longer any walk-up visits permitted, and it's now necessary to register online in advance for the free visit. The most visited attraction is the Kölner Dom / Cologne Cathedral, with 6.0 million visitors, then the Reichstag at 2.7 M, followed by a big drop to the remaining six other indoor attractions that have over 1 M visitors. They are all the famous places in Germany you've heard of, but after the Reichstag, their totals are from 1 1/3 M down to 1M.

Outside of Europe I was surprised to find what the remaining four were that I'd visited, because it hadn't at all been planned to visit a related group. I like to group the US and Canada (excluding francophone Québec) as two peas in a pod. I even sometimes use the word CanUS to describe them as a traveler's unit. Australians already group themselves together with New Zealanders using the WWI word Anzac. I feel that all four of these countries (Anzcus) have a lot in common as being settlement areas of Britain. Yet they are different from English-speaking Britain and Ireland, which are very much "of" Europe, and different from other places where English is spoken, such as South Africa and India, which are very much "of" their areas. And it turned out that, unplanned, the four parliaments outside Europe I'd visited were the Anzcus parliaments.

The US Parliament: Congress in the Capitol   The United States is one of the few countries, certainly one of the very few English-speaking countries, that avoids the word "parliament" for its legislature. Why should that be? We'll have to speculate that it's all based on the early friction between the US and Britain. Picture a family with four teen-age boys. On of them is rebellious and leaves home on a bad note. The others stay with the family until finally setting off on their own in a more traditionally established manner. Finally the rebel reconciles with the rest of the family.

Thus, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand stay with British tradition and call their legislatures parliaments. The US rebel, who objected not only to King George III, but also to Parliament, which was author, among other things, of the Stamp Act and the Tea Tax legislation, would have been determined NOT to use the word "parliament" for its legislature in order to distance its image maximally from the British Parliament. It ended up using, as in Germany, two separate words for two concepts, where the legislature is Congress, but the building is the Capitol.

The US Congress was established upon ratification of the US Constitution and formally began on 4 March 1789 in New York City, which was the first capital (with an A) of the US. It remained there for a year and four months, until removed to what was then established as the temporary capital, Philadelphia, for ten years, until December 1800. Pierre L'Enfant designed Washington's layout around the new Capitol building located on Jenkins Hill (now Capitol Hill), with the National Mall running west and North Capitol, East Capitol, and South Capitol Streets heading in the other three directions, so that the Capitol was always visible from four directions. This also divided the city into four quadrants. Nevertheless, the Capitol was never the actual geographic center of the city, nor the downtown business center, which has always been in the nearby part of the northwest quadrant, as the satellite image the map is based on indicates (click to enlarge).

The Senate wing of the Capitol was completed in 1800 and Congress held its first session there on 17 November 1800 in the incomplete building. The House of Representatives moved into the incomplete House wing in 1804, and that wing was finally completed in 1811, awaiting the central dome. Perfect. That was just in time for the War of 1812 and for both completed wings to be partially burned by the British on 24 August 1814.

An artist named George Munger, who was an engraver known for painting portraits and miniatures, prepared two watercolor-and-ink drawings on paper to preserve the scene. The one of the Capitol shows the two burned out wings on either side of the still unbuilt rotunda and dome. As a point of interest, this is his companion piece of the burned-out White House, which Munger referred to, in the style of the time, as The President's House. In both watercolors, the emptiness of the surrounding neighborhoods in 1814 is striking. (The S-shape above the near corner of the White House is believed to be part of a lightning protection system.)

Reconstruction started the next year, 1815, and was completed by 1819. New construction then continued on to 1826, with the construction of the Rotunda between the wings and the first Capitol dome, completed in 1818. This view is an 1846 daguerreotype of the east front of the Capitol, showing the first dome. Notice that there are still just two close-by wings, with no further extensions yet.

But in 1850, the decision was made to expand the Capitol to more than double its original width, closer to what it looks like today. This expansion made the original, timber-framed dome woefully out of scale, and in 1855, it was replaced with the cast-iron "wedding-cake style" dome that stands today (Photo by Andrew Selman). This dome was made three times higher than the original dome to visually balance the new width of the building, and is 30 m (100 ft) in diameter, but still had to be supported on the existing masonry pillars. The result is the US Capitol as we know it today. Compare the width of the close-by original wings with the expanded wings ("wings-on-wings") on the ends.

The two large neoclassical façades, or faces, of the Capitol are each known as "fronts". This means that the Capitol doesn't have a back (!!), just two fronts and two ends. The picture is of the showy West Front that looks down the full length of the National Mall. It serves as the ceremonial front, where inaugurations take place. The East Front, which has what hotels like to call a "city view", is the actual entrance.

We had visited Washington many times, most notably for language conferences, and had seen many of its sights, most notably museums, but it wasn't until right after we retired that we decided to tour the buildings representing the three branches of government, in May 1993, seven years before we toured the Reichstag in 2000. We toured the White House at a time when it was still only somewhat difficult to do so, by waiting in line in the morning you wanted to visit to see if you could get a ticket. (Since Nine Eleven I understand you have to write a letter months in advance to apply for a tour.) We toured the Supreme Court and saw the main courtroom. We toured the Library of Congress and saw its Gutenberg Bible, and also toured the Capitol.

While the US Capitol is hugely spectacular from the outside, it's mainly an office building on the inside, unlike Parliament in Ottawa. My recollection today of the interior turns out to be exactly the same as what I recently found that Beverly and I wrote down in our travel diary, that one is impressed "most notably the Rotunda and Statuary Hall". This is an upward view toward the interior of the dome from behind the statue of George Washington in the Capitol Rotunda (Photo by CC-BY-SA-3.0/Matt H. Wade at Wikipedia). Click to inspect detail. The National Statuary Hall is in a semicircular room just south of the Rotunda that once served as the House Chamber. It's the main exhibition space for the National Statuary Hall Collection of sculptures of prominent Americans, each state being allowed to contribute statues of two natives of note. If a person is historically a prominent American, it's very possible that his or her statue is here. The collection was completed when New Mexico contributed its second statue in 2005, and some states have replaced statues. Notably, by special Act of Congress, a statue of Rosa Parks was just added to the collection on 27 February 2013 as the 101st statue.

The New Zealand Parliament   Visits to the other three parliaments have been more recent (2009, 2010, 2012), and are described elsewhere on this website. The New Zealand Parliament is by far the most modest of the five I've visited, and the one that resembles office buildings more than any other—and my visit wasn't even planned. I had more time than I needed walking about Wellington, the opportunity presented itself—and it began to drizzle (2009/9). I enjoyed the visit, but the architecture is a bit of a hodgepodge over four different buildings. Other than visiting the legislature, the most interesting thing was the visit to the basement one is taken on to see the "quake breakers", technically "base isolators". These are multiple columns consisting of large rubber blocks laminated with steel around a lead core that have been inserted under the structure to cushion it in case of an earthquake and reduce shaking. There is a similar display at the nearby Te Papa Museum of one of its quake breakers.

The four buildings of the New Zealand Parliament (Photo by Midnighttonight), in sequence left to right, are the modern (1990) Bowen House, containing offices for MP's and others, the modern (1979) Beehive, the common name for the modern Executive wing, followed by the neoclassical (1922) Parliament House. This view (Photo by Partyzane) repeats the Beehive and Parliament, but then adds the Gothic Revival (1899) Parliamentary Library in the right foreground. This third view shows a panorama of Parliament House and the Library (Photo by Greg O'Beirne) (click for detail). My second favorite of the four is the rather unique Beehive, but my favorite is the Parliamentary Library (Photo by Greg O'Beirne), because of its distinct, great character. It's clearly Gothic revival, but of a much lighter color palate than the Ottawa Parliament, or London's, for that matter. The Library is the oldest building of the complex because of a déjà vu story. The former, wooden Parliament buildings burned in 1907, but the Library was fire resistant, being constructed of masonry, and, as in Ottawa, had an iron fire-door separating it from the rest.

The Australian Parliament   In 2010, on my visit to Canberra (2010/19), I visited the Australian Parliament. From 1901 to 1927, Parliament met in Parliament House in Melbourne. On 9 May 1927, Parliament moved to the new national capital at Canberra, but it met in what is now called Old Parliament House (Photo by Bidgee), a modest structure at the foot of Capital (with an A) Hill. It was intended to be a temporary location, but Parliament stayed there until 1988, when the new and permanent Parliament House (Photo by jjron) (click for detail) was opened. This beautiful modern structure is built on top of, yet into, Capital Hill, and this panoramic view of its front shows its boomerang shape. It was an enjoyable visit, and the thing that stays with me most about the interior of the building is its magnificent use of materials, woods, stone, tile, tapestries. This is best illustrated by the Great Hall (Photo by JJ Harrison). The tapestry in the back (click) is an enlarged version of a painting, and at 20 X 9 m (65.6 X 29.5 ft) is one of the largest tapestries in the world.

It sounds like a strange point to make, but of the five parliaments described here (plus Britain's), Australia's is the only one that hasn't suffered a fire. But then the current building only dates from 1988. Let's hope for the best.

The Canadian Parliament   This 2012 visit we just discussed in the last posting, but I'll say again I had no preconceived intention of stringing together five parliaments like beads on a bracelet, and it was only when writing up Ottawa that I thought to calculate just what I'd seen earlier. But I have to say that, of the five, Ottawa's is architecturally the most impressive, inside and out. I suspect London's would be as well, but I've only seen the outside. Washington's is very impressive from the outside, but much less so inside. The best long-distance view is Canberra's; the best intermediate view is Washington's. The best closer view, especially across the river, is Ottawa's. The most unique feature is Berlin's dome. And, well, Wellington's has its quake-breakers.

There are often two words, one for the legislature, one for the building, such as Bundestag/Reichstag, Congress/Capitol, but that's not exactly true with Parliament, which can refer to either. "It was said today in Parliament that . . ." refers to the legislature, and "Do you see Parliament across the river?" refers to the building. Usually only under pressure does this vary. Since it would seem silly to say "Congress meets in the Capitol and Parliament meets in Parliament", you would then logically have to extend it to "meets in Parliament House" or "meets in the Parliament building(s)".

Serendipity   There was a time when I traveled with only a planned route and no hotel reservations or specific knowledge of what I wanted to see in a given place, so therefore, no specified time limit in one place. I'll leave that now for others to do, but I like much more structure, having just the right hotel waiting for me and with a complete knowledge of what I want to see and don't want to see, so that I know how many days to allow for a given stop.

And then there's dumb luck. The fancy word is serendipity, which adds spice to the stew in the way of delightful surprise. Serendipity is defined as "pure luck in discovering things you were not looking for", and I had two pleasant bouts of it in Ottawa, one after the other.

Karsh of Ottawa   One of the instances of serendipity involved something I should have known, but hadn't thought of when planning to come to Ottawa, so I felt like kicking myself that I hadn't looked for it on my own, but had to rely to chance. It was when I had just left the grounds of Parliament, crossed over the Rideau Canal, and stepped into the Château Laurier to visit the historic hotel. I strolled around the lobby areas, sat in plush couches, and used the visit as a rest from all the walking.

I then stepped into a medium-sized lounge—should I call it a parlour—to look around. I noticed black-and-white pictures on the walls around the room, five of them, but not very large given the size of the room—maybe as large as a coffee-table book. Following my policy of never walking past a plaque or statue without investigating (is that a skill of mine?), I applied that policy to pictures on the wall, so it was a blend of serendipity plus my check-out-everything policy that led to my discovery.

The first black-and-white photo portrait I walked up to showed a side view of a handsome woman, dated 1956. It was a left-side full-bodied profile, lit from the right, and on the wall to her left were antlers, and a block of driftwood. The picture was captivating, and if I hadn't recognized American artist of the Southwest Georgia O'Keefe, the artifacts around the room she was in would have led me to it. Very nice.

The second picture I didn't recognize--perhaps it was an important Canadian that I didn't know. But no one would mistake the third one. It was torso view of Albert Einstein, dated 1948. It was a profile of his right side, but he was clasping his hands and looking thoughtfully into the distance on the upper right. This photographer was good! Who was he?

But it was at the fourth photograph where I came convinced I had to go and read the explanation across the room. This photographic portrait didn't show the subject's face. Who would do such a thing?

It was of a stocky man sitting in a wooden chair. It was mostly a rear view, but showing a little of his right side, but not his face. He was seated in an area illuminated from above, facing a dark area. And he was leaning forward, intently playing the cello, and this intensity was palpable. Without seeing his face, it was obvious that this 1954 portrait was of Pablo Casals.

Before moving to the last wall for the fifth photo, I had to go back to the first wall with the explanation of who took these portraits and why they were on display there. When I saw who it was, I felt like kicking myself. Why didn't I remember that when going to Ottawa I should have been on the lookout for photographic portraits by none other than Karsh of Ottawa?

I took notes about all the photos (which was fortunate, since I'm putting this together six months later, and appreciate written details) and notes from the plaque explaining the connection to the hotel, then I checked further about Karsh online back at McGee's Inn. What an artist. What a story.

Background Yousuf Karsh was an Armenian-Canadian portrait photographer who did for portraiture via photography in the 20C what Reynolds, Gainsborough, and Copley had done for portraiture via painting in earlier centuries. Karsh was one of the most famous and accomplished portrait photographers of all time.

He was born in Armenia—sort of—call it Armenia-in-Turkey. It was in the city of Mardin, in the eastern Ottoman empire, today located in southeast Turkey, just north of the borders with Syria and Iraq. His given Armenian name was Hovsep, but he was known otherwise as Yousuf. The year was 1908, and he was seven when the Armenian Genocide began in 1915. In 1925, when he was 16, his parents sent him to live with a photographer uncle in Sherbrooke, Quebec. The uncle recognized his potential and in 1928 arranged for Karsh to apprentice with a famous portrait photographer in Boston. In 1931, Karsh moved to Ottawa and started working with a local photographer in a studio on Sparks Street (!!), and in 1933, he took over the studio. From early on, Karsh decided to specialize in photographing people he considered to be of consequence.

His having located himself in Ottawa was fortuitous, since Canadian Prime Minister Mackenzie King discovered him and arranged introductions with visiting dignitaries for portrait sittings, and Karsh's work also attracted the attention of many celebrities. His first solo exhibition was in 1936 in the Drawing Room of the Château Laurier hotel, and thus began a long association between Karsh and the hotel. This is a self-portrait of the young Karsh in 1938 at age 30.

He photographed many of the most prominent personalities of his generation. Mention a mid-century celebrity and he or she was probably photographed by Karsh. As described above with, say, O'Keefe or Casals, Karsh's gift was being able to capture the essence of the subject within the portrait. Some have described the experience as being "Karshed". In the London Sunday Times Journalist George Perry wrote that "when the famous start thinking of immortality, they call for Karsh of Ottawa." In the millennium year of 2000, the International Who's Who made a list of the 100 most notable people of the 20C. Karsh had photographed 51, including himself (above), as he was the only Canadian to make the list. In 1967, Karsh was made an Officer of the Order of Canada, and in 1990, was promoted to Companion.

After having had his first one-man show in the Château Laurier, he moved his studio there in 1973, where it remained until he retired in 1992, which means that the portraits of many notables were made within the hotel. He resided in the hotel with his wife between 1980 and 1998. He died back in Boston in 2002 at age 93.

This long association with the hotel explains why he made it a gift of portraits, as I saw in the lounge/parlour, meant to mark his professional and personal association with the hotel of more than six decades.

Karsh's work is located around the world, including in permanent collections of the National Gallery of Canada in Ottawa, which faces Parliament across the Canal, in New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art and Museum of Modern Art, in the Bibliothèque nationale de France in Paris, in the National Portrait Gallery in London, and in the National Portrait Gallery of Australia in Canberra.

Chiaroscuro For those readers not familiar with the term, the Italian word chiaroscuro, kya.ro.SCU.ro, is used in art to describe the use of strong contrasts between light and dark, particularly ones that affect the whole composition. It's a combination of chiaro, related to "clear" and meaning "light", and scuro, related to "obscure" and meaning "dark", so it's a "light-dark" technique.

One of my favorite artists is known for this technique, the 17C Dutch painter, Jan Vermeer. One of his most famous works is De melkmeid (The Milkmaid), c 1660, in the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam. Note particularly his frequent use of a window as an obvious light source, and its clear illumination of the subject and what she's doing, as well as of the wall opposite. While one example of Vermeer's work should be enough, in addition to that famous one, we should include a travel-related one, his portrait of De geograaf (The Geographer), 1669, in the Städelsches Kunstinstitut in Frankfurt am Main. Again we have the window as light source, illuminating him and his work, and, as a balance, the wall opposite. (Note the name and date on the upper wall: I Ver Meer, MDCLXVIIII; when romanizing, use I for J.) In both these paintings there is a clear distinction between chiaro and scuro.

As much as I like Vermeer, the winner for me of any chiaroscuro contest is Georges de la Tour. Look at his Madeleine au miroir (Mary Magdalene at the Mirror), c 1640, in the Musée lorrain in Nancy. De la Tour loves to hide the light source, especially when it's bright, as here, just letting its effects bring out the subject in otherwise very dark surroundings.

Portraits It's time to look at Karsh's work, and while the De la Tour painting is still fresh in our minds, let's look at Karsh's 1946 portrait of German actor Peter Lorre. As with the De la Tour, the actual bright light source is hidden, and just its effects on the subject's face are seen. Also, we will see that Karsh was a master of studio lights. One of his distinctive practices was to light the subject's hands separately. Note that the fingers and sleeve on the left are not lighted from the lamp, but from a separate source to the left. Note also the verticality of the glass chimney of the lamp, plus the subject's head, all reflected in the verticality of the hand, cigarette, and smoke.

Note, on the 1946 portrait of Humphrey Bogart the Vermeer-like illumination from the right side. This 1948 portrait of Joan Crawford was back-lit. (It is a sign of the times that the subjects in the last three portraits all sported cigarettes, as the height of sophistication in that era. Who today, even a smoker, would include a cigarette in a formal portrait?)

We can show just a few more portraits of the few that are available online. We should include Karsh's discoverer William Lyon Mackenzie King, who served as the tenth Canadian Prime Minister from 1935 to 1948, in a portrait from 1941. Note the front lighting and that he is also backlit. If you didn't know that Martha Graham's field was the dance, you could guess it from this 1948 portrait, backlit with a spotlight on her face. And finally, let's look at the 1948 portrait of the Marx Brothers, with Groucho sitting, Chico on the left, and Harpo. Karsh's subjects came from all fields of endeavor.

Churchill We leave the very best for last. Karsh was responsible for what is possibly the most famous photographic portrait in history, and probably the most reproduced one. Karsh took it in Parliament in Ottawa in 1941, early in his career, and is probably the picture that advanced his career more than any other one. It brought Karsh international prominence. And it was the fifth and last picture on the far wall of the lounge/parlour in the Château Laurier. It's Karsh's famous portrait of a scowling Winston Churchill.

Look how, in this elegant and distinguished portrait, Churchill faces forward with a defiant and unconquerable mien. He seems to exemplify the British attitude of the time. This defiant look, given the early war year of 1941, just begs to suggest a caption for this picture such as "We're going to win this war!". The mood is inspirational. When war correspondent Edward R Murrow saw Churchill's expression in this portrait he remarked "there is the face which marshalled the English language and sent it to battle when we had little else." Inasmuch as this portrait gave a great boost to Allied morale, it has been said that it helped end WWII. The picture appeared on the cover of Life magazine on 21 May 1945, two weeks after VE Day. Karsh has said that this picture changed his life. He knew it was an important picture, but never suspected it would become the iconic image that it did.

But there's the other, more humorous, side of the coin from the inspirational one. How did Karsh get this rather unique, defiant look? You may have heard, as I had, that it had something to do with Churchill's missing cigar. It's a great story, usually told in bits and pieces. I checked with a number of online sources and have pieced together a rather complete set of details of what happened.

It was the day before New Year's Eve, 30 December 1941, when Winston Churchill, following his visit to Washington, had been asked to address the Canadian House of Commons in Ottawa, just across the Canal from Karsh's studio in the Château Laurier. It was the end of a particularly momentous month, since the US had just joined the Allied war effort after Pearl Harbor on 7 December, just over three weeks earlier. Karsh was still relatively unknown, but had been invited by his mentor, Mackenzie King, to do a photographic portrait of Churchill. He assumed his time would be very limited, and researched Churchill, taking notes of his habits, quirks, attitudes, and tendencies. Karsh was prepared and knew his subject.

The night before, he had prepared his equipment in the Speaker's Chamber of Parliament, and waited there after the speech for Churchill to appear. He entered arm-in-arm with Mackenzie King, at which point Karsh turned on his lights. What Karsh didn't know was that Churchill hadn't been told that they wanted to take his picture, which is why some in his entourage were smiling in anticipation of what might happen, but no one had the courage to explain. Karsh writes that he stepped up to a displeased Churchill, who was not in the mood for portraiture, and said, “Sir, I hope I will be fortunate enough to make a portrait worthy of this historic occasion.” Churchill snapped back that he may take one picture, and he had two minutes to do it, and sat down in the chair. At this point Churchill mischievously lit a fresh cigar and puffed away, scowling at the camera as if it were a wartime enemy.

Karsh wrote in his 1972 Faces of Our Time that he had only two minutes to "try to put on film a man who had already written or inspired a library of books, baffled all his biographers, filled the world with his fame, and me, on this occasion, with dread." In 1941, Karsh was 33 and still virtually unknown, and Churchill, at 67, was twice his age, as well as being a world figure. What a formidable juxtaposition.

Churchill's scowling expression suited Karsh perfectly for what he had in mind, but the cigar just didn't seem right for such a formal occasion. Karsh held out an ashtray, but Churchill refused to give up his cigar. Karsh went back to his camera and made sure everything was all right technically so that he could make his move, and waited, but Churchill continued to chomp on the cigar. Karsh then walked up to Churchill on the pretense of checking the light level and, in a sudden show of bravado combined with rank chutzpah, which he claims was not premeditated, he reached over, said respectfully "Forgive me, sir", and plucked the cigar right out of Churchill's mouth.

Karsh writes: "At this the Churchillian scowl deepened, the head was thrust forward belligerently, and the hand placed on the hip in an attitude of anger." It was the look Karsh wanted. "By the time I got back to my camera, he looked so belligerent he could have devoured me. It was at that instant that I took the photograph." Artistic perfection, but Karsh says the silence in the room at that point was deafening.

But after this little courageous performance, Churchill's mood, and the mood in the room, shifted, and Churchill smiled at what had happened and said Karsh may take another picture, which he did. Churchill then walked toward Karsh to shake his hand, and said famously "You can even make a roaring lion stand still to be photographed.” On that basis, Karsh titled the photograph of Scowling Churchill The Roaring Lion.

The human background of momentous events can often be, well, human. We can continue to remember our caption of Scowling Churchill to be "We're going to win this war!", even while we know the actual caption should be "How DARE you pull my cigar from my mouth!"

I have read that Karsh's favorite of the two pictures was the second photo, Smiling Churchill, where Churchill's mood had lightened considerably, and where he had remained pretty much in the same pose. I've wanted to see it, and finally found it online. This is Smiling Churchill. I can see why Karsh preferred it, since it shows Churchill as a real, everyday, likeable person. It's a portrait a person would normally rather take home from a photographer's studio, but is less memorable and iconic than Scowling Churchill, the wartime leader (who wants his cigar back).

Walk into the Château Laurier lounge/parlour with me on this short, 41-second video I found on YouTube called "70 Years Ago Today", which apparently was taken on 30 December 2011 in memory of the Churchill speech and Karsh portrait.

In 2008, Canada Post honored Karsh's 100th birthday by issuing a set of three stamps with Karsh portraits. The one for the International Rate was, logically, Scowling Churchill; the one for the American Rate was a 1956 portrait of Audrey Hepburn in side profile; the one for the Canadian Domestic Rate was a self-portrait of Karsh himself, viewing photographic plates. In addition, a souvenir sheet was issued depicting 24 other Karsh portraits showing the range and scope of his work. They included Mother Teresa, Sophia Loren, Dwight D Eisenhower, Walt Disney, Martin Luther King, Pope John XXIII, Pablo Picasso, and Queen Elizabeth II.

Finally, we have two YouTube video summaries. Running 1:08 is "Karsh: The Searching Eye". It includes a number of pictures, and shows the older Karsh himself, who narrates. The second video runs 3:31 and is a Karsh Profile, centering on an Armenian Museum in Watertown MA, a western suburb of Boston. Remember, he spent part of his early career in Boston, and also died there. Two pictures we discussed at the beginning of this article to which I didn't have links appear early on; pause quickly for Pablo Casals at 0:29 and again for Albert Einstein at 0:31. Much of the narration is by his widow, Estrellita Karsh, including some interesting comments at the end about Robert Frost and Helen Keller.

"Women are Persons"   Moments before Dame Serendipity led me to Karsh, as I was just about to leave the Parliament grounds, she had guided me to a statue, actually a grouping of several statues. I noted that it was a monument involving the phrase "Women are Persons", the basis for what is known as the "Persons Case", which I knew absolutely nothing about, but as usual, I followed my "never pass a plaque or statue by" creed, and took a closer look.

We'll discuss this picture more later, but for now, just look at the unusual group of statues (Photo by Philip Tellis) (click to enlarge) that I came across. They are five larger-than-life figures of older women, dressed in the styles of the 1920's. Artistically, it's unusual in that the statues form a stage setting of two people arriving at a tea party where three are already gathered. In this unusual grouping, there are actually seven statues, five of the women, one of an empty chair (!) and one of a table covered with teacups (!!). The style of the grouping invites visitors to walk among the figures and join in, perhaps to sit on the chair, perhaps on an available lap. Behind the grouping we're looking south to the East Block and towards southeast corner of the Parliament Hill grounds, with the Rideau Canal behind the trees to the left. Even if you don't know the story behind it all, it's an intriguing grouping of statues. What could it all mean?

A nearby plaque tells that these five women are known as the Famous Five and gives a superficial introduction to the fascinating story behind it and behind the "living tree doctrine" in Canadian law. Back at Macgee's Inn I started looking up more about it and really got caught up in the details of the story.

It all started with male-female relationships at about the time of WWI, just as the West was coming out of the highly structured Edwardian Era and entering the free-wheeling 1920's. It had been an era when men considered women delicate creatures that had to be protected from the world. I have two examples, one fictional, the other real.

We learn from stories, fictional as they may be, and I refer to the third season of TV's Downtown Abbey, which concluded recently in the US (it airs differently around the world). One can hear about class differences, but one doesn't realize their extent in this period until it's acted out. The same goes for the treatment of women. I refer to the deathbed scene where the physician is explaining the seriousness of the albumen level in the patient's urine. Lord Grantham immediately interrupts the doctor and berates him for using the word "urine" in front of Lord Grantham's mother, the Dowager Countess. She, on the other hand, portrayed by the magnificent Dame Maggie Smith, makes little of the matter and says she's heard worse. But the point is, despite the seriousness of the medical situation, Lord Grantham feels he has to protect Lady Violet's ears from hearing words that "only men should discuss".

It was a similar event that happened in the real world, and in the very same time frame, that sparked the Persons Case as a pivotal one in Canadian law. The result was both a step forward for Canadian women and a new, refreshing outlook for how Canadian law should be interpreted. In the course of this case, the province of Alberta, where it all started, came out "smelling like a rose", while it was the federal government that had to be "dragged, kicking and screaming", into the 20C.

Emily Murphy, Judge Emily Murphy was the women's rights activist who initiated the case and was the leader of the Famous Five. She came from an influential Toronto family that had had members in high places in the government, and she grew up with brothers in a family atmosphere that included interest in government and politics. When she and her family moved to Edmonton, Alberta, she worked actively for impoverished farm women who had been abandoned by their husbands without rights to the family's land and at the time had little financial recourse from the government. Murphy succeeded in having the government grant land rights to women.

In 1916, Murphy and several other women (not the Famous Five) attempted to attend as spectators a trial of several women accused of prostitution. They were asked to leave the courtroom on the basis that the topic being tried was "not fit for mixed company". This outraged Murphy and she appealed to the Attorney General of Alberta. She argued that "If the evidence is not fit to be heard in mixed company, then . . . the government . . . [must] set up a special court presided over by women, to try other women." Although this argument was segregationist and not in step with later thinking, it was still a step forward for women's rights. Murphy was surprised that the Attorney General not only agreed with her, but appointed her as magistrate. Emily Murphy thus became the first judge not only in Alberta, not only in Canada, but in the entire British Empire.

However, her appointment as a judge was challenged. In her first case in Alberta on 1 July 1916, she found the prisoner guilty, but then the defense attorney objected. He questioned her authority as a woman to preside as a judge, since women in Canada were not legally "persons", so they couldn't be "qualified persons".

What he was referring to was something quite different from being a judge, it was being a Senator, but he was taking the requirement for Senators in the Canadian Constitution and extending it across the board.

Constitution Act, 1867 One of the cornerstones of the Canadian Constitution was what was originally known as the British North America Act of 1867, or BNA Act. It's still called that in Britain, but Canada in 1982 arranged for its--to use the local term--patriation (homecoming) and renamed it the Constitution Act, 1867. It sets up the federal structure, including the requirements for the Senate, whose members, you may recall, are not elected, but appointed.

The argument against Emily Murphy was this: Section 23, called "Qualifications of a Senator", establishes age and residency requirements. It regularly uses the words "he" and "his", as do subsequent sections. Then Section 24, called "Summons of Senator", says that "The Governor General shall . . . summon qualified Persons to the Senate . . ." This is where that word "Persons" appears, and is the crux of the whole Persons Case, the argument being that the drafters of those words and phrases in 1867 had male persons in mind, not female.

The situation in Alberta was quickly settled. In the next year, 1917, the Supreme Court of Alberta ruled that women were persons in that constitutional sense, and that was the end of the matter in Alberta. However, the issue still remained for the rest of Canada. Therefore, Emily Murphy decided to test the issue and allowed her name to be put forward, in a petition signed by nearly a half-million Canadians, to Prime Minister Robert Borden as a candidate for Senator. He said he would be willing to nominate her, but had to reject her on the same "persons" basis.

The Famous Five It was obvious that times and attitudes were evolving, but still remained mired in the past. Yet it wasn't until a decade later, in 1927, that Emily Murphy decided to take the next step. In Canada, the federal government has the power to refer questions to the Supreme Court to clarify legal and constitutional issues. Murphy couldn't petition the federal government on the issue of women's status on her own, since a group of at least five people (persons?) was required, so, at a tea party at her house on 27 August 1927, she asked four other prominent, active Albertan women to join her, Nellie McClung, Louise McKinney, Henrietta Edwards, and Irene Parlby, and all signed the petition. In its final version, it asked the federal government to ask the Supreme Court of Canada "Does the word 'Persons' in Section 24 of the British North America Act, 1867 [as it was still known then], include female persons?"

The Supreme Court of Canada The Supreme Court of Canada, whose building located just west of Parliament we discussed in the last posting, heard the case in March 1928 and gave its answer in April. This answer is frequently misinterpreted, vying for inaccuracy with the urban legend that Queen Victoria chose Ottawa as capital by sticking a pin in a map. The misinterpretation is that the Court said no, women are not persons, and that was the end of it. But that was not what happened. The majority judgment, plus the opinions of two concurring judges, indicated that they decided not to be an activist court, but to sit on the fence.

They explained that there is no doubt that the word "persons" standing alone obviously includes women, but that they interpreted the phrase "qualified person" constitutionally as being based on their understanding of the intention of the drafters of the BNA Act in 1867. In that year, women could not sit in Parliament, so, even though the role of women in society had changed into the 20C, and especially after WWI, they felt they could not alter their traditionalist interpretation of the Constitution. Including women as persons within the Constitution, they held, would have to instead be specifically legislated by Parliament. Their formal judgment was: "Understood to mean 'Are women eligible for appointment to the Senate of Canada?', the question is answered in the negative."

The Judicial Committee of the Privy Council One would think that the word "supreme" in the name of the court would mean it's as far as you can go. Since 1949, that has really been true in Canada, one of a number of steps over time (currency, flag) as Canada gradually asserted its independence. But before that year, the word was hollow in the Canadian legal system. Just as when kids don't get justice on the playground and go running home to complain to momma, before 1949, if Canadians weren't satisfied with local justice up to the "Supreme" Court, they appealed to Britain, specifically to the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council (JCPC) in London, the court of last resort for the British Empire. While it's admirable that this appeals route no longer exists and that Canada's affairs are today properly decided at home, in this case it worked out spectacularly well, on two counts.

The names of the Famous Five were listed on the appeal documents in alphabetical order, putting not the leader, Emily Murphy, first, but Henrietta Edwards, so that the seminal Persons Case is legally known as Edwards v. Canada (Attorney General).

Responding for the Judicial Committee, the Lord Chancellor, Viscount Sankey, found on 18 October 1929 that the phrase "qualified persons" could and should be read broadly to include women, and therefore reversed the decision of the Canadian Supreme Court in favor of the Famous Five. He stated drily, and very sensibly, that "[t]he exclusion of women from all public offices is a relic of days more barbarous than ours," and that "to those who ask why the word ["person"] should include females, the obvious answer is why should it not."

But opening up public office to women across Canada was only part of the decision, and frankly, since it was a finite yes/no response, involving one specific matter, wasn't as momentous as his reasoning for the Committee's reaching that decision. It was this reasoning that became the JCPC's permanent gift to the Canadian people, to be applied again and again in the future. The reasoning involved an entirely new approach to constitutional interpretation that since has become fundamental to Canadian law. The reasoning was that the BNA Act was not something etched in stone, but instead the Act planted in Canada a living tree, capable of growth. This living tree was the Canadian Constitution that should be subject to development. The interpretation of the Constitution should not be "narrow and technical", but "large and liberal". This decision then developed into the living tree doctrine of Canadian law, requiring broad and progressive interpretation, not necessarily limited to what the framers might have thought, which, like women's rights, might be out of date, but which is adapted to changing times. Limiting a constitutional interpretation to just the framer's intent without reflecting societal changes roots the Constitution in the past and would no longer be reflective of contemporary society.

Epilog There are various aspects of the significance of the Persons Case. It can be argued that the Canadian Senate is a largely powerless body, and the more powerful House of Commons had already elected (no appointments, there) its first female member in 1921, eight years before the Persons Case was decided. She was Agnes Campbell Macphail, and I show her picture here primarily because this 1934 photo of her is by a young Karsh of Ottawa. However, the Persons Case did set the precedent establishing the principle that women could hold any political office in Canada.

Furthermore, four months after the decision on the Persons Case, Cairine Reay Wilson became the first woman appointed to the Senate, on 15 February 1930. Neither Emily Murphy, nor any of the other four, was appointed to the Senate after the Case, but then it isn't established if she ever wanted such an appointment, only having applied early on to set a legal precedent. Nevertheless, 80 years after the Case was decided, the Canadian Senate voted in October 2009 to posthumously name the Famous Five, for services rendered, Canada's very first "honorary Senators". In addition, 18 October has since been celebrated as Person's Day in Canada, and because of that, October is celebrated as Women's History Month.

Emily Murphy's house, where the petition-signing tea party occurred, is now on the campus of the University of Alberta, and appropriately houses the Student Legal Services.

Sculptures We now get back to the extraordinary sculptures of the Famous Five (Photo by Philip Tellis) we saw earlier. They are larger-than-life, and were done, appropriately, by an Alberta artist, Barbara Paterson from Edmonton. There are two sets of them, the ones I saw on Parliament Hill, and another set, arranged slightly differently, in Calgary, Alberta.

Again, it's unusual in that it theatrically presents a scene. It's a tea party, but one, perhaps fictitious, in which the Famous Five are hearing the news of their victory, so it's apparently not the same famous tea party in which they first signed the petition. Let's look at details, starting with the figure and chair at the right, then circling to the left. This is Emily Murphy herself (Photo by Montrealais) standing by a welcoming chair. Notice the East Block behind her.

We then move to the two seated figures (Photo by D. Gordon E. Robertson) with the statue of the tea table between them. I could only find a winter picture of them, with snow. The one with the hat is Louise McKinney (Photo by Thivierr), reacting to the news. This picture is of the other grouping at Olympic Plaza in Calgary, which seems to have a blue metal framework around it in a semicircle; also the tea table in Calgary seems to be placed to McKinney's left, rather than between the two. McKinney was the first woman elected to the Legislative Assembly of Alberta, or to any legislature in Canada or the rest of the British Empire. Back to the Ottawa statues, the figure raising her teacup in a toast to the news is Henrietta Edwards, (Photo by D. Gordon E. Robertson), whose name is on the lawsuit. She was an advocate for working women and a founding member of the Victorian Order of Nurses. The view behind her is of the steps leading up from the Queen's Gate (click to inspect) to the Centre Block of Parliament, on the right.

The final pairing is of the two women just having entered the tea party from outdoors with the news. First is Irene Parlby (Photo by Thivierr), here again the statue in Calgary. She's extending her arm toward the presentation of the news. Parlby was a farm women's leader, an activist, and the first female Cabinet minister in Alberta. But everyone at the tea party is looking toward the final figure, who is bearing the news, suffragist and member of the Alberta Legislature Nellie McClung (Photo by Dmitri Lytov), particularly strikingly dressed in 1920's attire. Be sure to click to enlarge the picture to read the newspaper headline proclaiming that "Women are Persons . . .", and, this being Canada, the same in French, that "Les femmes sont des personnes . . ."

Finally, one last picture (Photo by D. Gordon E. Robertson), in the Ottawa winter, to complete the circle back to Murphy, where it seems that Nellie McClung is particularly directing the headline back to the leader of the Famous Five, Emily Murphy.

These statues have achieved a degree of fame of their own, and have appeared on Canadian currency to reflect the Famous Five. The Canadian $50 note issued in 2004 (but withdrawn in 2012, when a new series was issued) shows on the front Mackenzie King and the Peace Tower, but on the back, it shows, among other things, an interesting rearrangement of the Famous Five statues on the right. And on the left. it even has a copy of the newspaper Nellie McClung holds in the grouping.