Indian Art Revived by John Westbury Totem poles, those weird-looking yet wonderfully carved symbols of Red Indian wealth in times gone by, have become so scarce in the last decade or so that fresh efforts are being made by various Canadian authorities to revive the almost lost art of totem-carving. At Squamish Life College in North Vancouver, courses in totem-carving were inaugurated a few years ago where, under critical professional eye, Indians were taught how to carve a totem pole. It was the first time that a course in this craft had ever been attempted. This art is thought to have originated about two centuries ago along the lower reaches of the Nass River in British Columbia, and on the Queen Charlotte Islands to the west of the Canadian province's northern coastline. The idea may have evolved from the Indian practice of carving interior house posts. The finest examples were embellished with the figures of animals and birds—whales, bears, ravens, eagles and so on—and, sometimes, the owner's image. The practice took on a social significance during the 19th century, when chief vied against chief to erect as many totem poles as possible, each more magnificent than the last. Around the 1860's the social prestige of the Indians depended largely on the number of totem poles he possessed, which in turn depended, naturally, on his wealth. Owning a totem or two was like having one's name in today's social registers. This custom had its disadvantages, for the intense and bitter rivalry between competing chiefs, whereby they would take new names and new emblems upon themselves and then have these self-proclaimed honours carved on larger and larger totem poles, became so costly that each pole left its owner temporarily impoverished. Reason behind this lay, not in the cost of having the pole carved and erected, but in the etiquette of the occasion, which demanded that the owner should stage a lavish ceremonial to proclaim his latest rise up the ‘social ladder’! At these celebrations, the occasion of much feasting and merriment, the Indian had by custom to bestow upon his numerous guests splendid gifts to mark his wealth. Thus, a ‘potlatch’, as the ceremonial was called, cost a great deal of money. However, the Indian chief wasn't altogether guileless in this matter. He looked upon the celebrations as a fine investment whereby, as an inevitable guest of many future potlatches, he would obtain full repayment plus interest. Within the last half-century, however, totem-carving has almost died out. The only work undertaken has been the restoring of pole clusters still outstanding in south-east Alaska and along the coast of British Columbia, a stretch of coast known as America's “totempolar region”. All who are aware of the significance of the past will hope that success shall attend Canada's efforts to revive an art which has been, as it remains, unique in world culture. Canadian National Film Board Photo