Swan Song

Well here we are at last.

Today is the very last day of my 2nd Co-op term. 16 weeks with change.

Now that we’ve reached the end of the road I find myself at a loss for things to say about it. In the grand scheme of things 4 months really isn’t that long, and I know that, but it still feels like I have been here for so much longer. In my first post I described myself as being “the new nervous-looking 20-something” and now I feel completely at home in this hotel. I can very easily get from one end to the other in a matter of minutes without getting turned around. I know the best times to go to the Bean (the staff canteen) when they’re guaranteed to have coffee or fries or Froot Loops. I know how to sweet talk Maintenance and the valet boys into helping me move stuff. I know the names of most of the people who work in the shops around me and they have become my friends. I’ll miss them when I leave. And I’ll miss my coworkers.

In the 4 months that I have been here, just one person has stayed put in the Banff location other than myself. We have seen 3 other people come and go, constantly leaving us with a standing army of 3. D left for greener pastures about a month ago, to be replaced by the lovely Em, who quickly became my new partner in crime. And just like that our sitcom cast changed from 3 wildly different characters to 2 mischievous (yet good-natured, of course) young women tolerated – and sometimes encouraged – by an older, laid back uncle type character. Needless to say, we have way too much fun for people working in a classy art gallery.

The result of my Art Lesson with soapstone carver Allan Waidman.

When I started here I was completely convinced I was never going to be able to learn the names of all the artists Mountain Galleries represents. And I probably haven’t. But I can look around the gallery from my perch behind the counter and tell you the difference between a Wilder and a Prouse. I can tell you what medium Keith Thomson prefers to work in and I even know the finer points of Allan Waidman’s carving process. I could tell you who is a total drama queen and who likes to call just to say hi. What I love about all of this is that these people are real to me. They aren’t just names in a book I’ve learned by reading about them, I’ve met them; talked with them. When I worked at UVic’s art gallery last semester most of the artists I studied were dead, and those who were still alive never came around the gallery. There was that classic disconnect historians have.

We cannot talk to that person because they haven’t spoken for 100 years.

I am presently having a hard time thinking of how this job has helped me develop as an academic within my history degree. I don’t think it has…

It has given me a far greater respect for Canadian artists, though. I have picked up a few tricks in regards to the fundamentals of how art is made, which I know is going to make me be one of those snobby people in art galleries explaining why the point of focus is over there and how the artist achieved such luminosity. I hate that future Kate already. I’ll just have to avoid galleries until it wears away. But it has also helped me in understanding some of my favourite historical painters. When you stand beside an artist as they explain how they paint the clouds just so, or the amount of time it took to get the layering just right on the water, it is somehow easier to stand in front of a J.E.H MacDonald and understand it.

I was about to say, “At the end of the day…” but seeing as this really is the end of the day I’ll just say it:

I’m happy to be leaving.

This lives on the mirror in our back room. This will be my legacy.

I’m sad to be leaving my people, and the day-to-day work was not hard, but there have been circumstances surrounding my work life that I will very much not be missing. I am grateful to have had this opportunity, and I feel that I have had an extremely enriching summer, but I’m looking forward to going back to my classrooms and my people long dead. It’s been interesting keeping a blog, and I’ve found the whole experience weirdly therapeutic and satisfying, even though my mom likes to poke fun at me for it.

So with that I will leave you all with a snippet from my favourite Allan Doyle song, Where I Belong. Allow him to play you out…

I’ll cast my leaving shadow, and I’ll be Canadian. But distance can’t decide what matters to the Hard Rock’s loving son. And when I’m thinking of St John’s I’ll bring ‘er closer with this song. I don’t know where I’m going, But I know where I belong.

You Don’t Have to Wear Your Best Fake Smile

I’m drawing close to the end of my Co-op term and I find myself once again torn between the factions of my life that exist inside and outside the gallery. As you’ve probably noticed, I have certain requirements I have to fill in regards to my actual Co-op program and now that this is winding down I’m trying to focus on and remember the things I’ve done and learned so that my final report rounds out nicely. On the other hand, I’m very much looking forward to the things I get to do once my time here is up. And that, let me tell you, is a very distracting thing.

Things like lying on the porch swing while the cat pretends to be a puma

This has been by far one of the weirdest summers I’ve ever had in Banff, and all at the same time that is exciting and interesting and maddening. It’s been a lot like many of the summers I’ve had since starting university in that I am at home and working full time, but it’s weird in the way that I still think of myself as being a student and the work I’ve done (and where I’ve done it) is so different.

My handful of working years since leaving high school have been spent very much entrenched in the more local side of Banff. When I graduated I spent a couple years working in a video rental shop (yes we still had one, no it’s not there anymore) and when that was pulled out from under me I landed at the Whyte Museum. Both of those places saw a lot of people through the doors on any given day, and since they were both right downtown many of them were people that I knew. But working inside the Fairmont has been a whole other ball of wax. People I know don’t come here unless I make them come see me, and even though this hotel is brimming with people now living here because of the job, I still don’t know them because I’m not quite part of their work world.

And aside from the couple of times a day in which I see familiar faces in the staff canteen or in the halls, the vast majority of the people I interact with I will never ever see again. In some cases, I am very much grateful for this fact. My relationship with tourists in this town is . . . strained at the best of times. It is a sad truth that a lot of the people who vacation here can be pushy, self-centered, bumbling idiots. But every now and again I get to experience a small ray of sunshine in the way of a genuinely good person and that does wonders to soften the awfulness of the others.

I know the main point of a commercial art gallery is to sell art, but I am very much of the opinion that one can’t actually sell art. Either people like something or they don’t. My job is basically to just confirm and reinforce their good taste until they hand me a credit card. And I know that’s really crude, but its the truth. Sometimes I get people who lap the gallery, come to me and say, “I want that one right there.” Done. That’s it. But sometimes I get to spend more time talking with someone who has fallen head over heels for a piece and just wants to know more about it before making a decision. Last week, this absolutely lovely lady came in twice in one day and had found a couple pieces she really liked, but she also just wanted to chat while she killed time. So we talked about her trip, and where she’s from, and of course we talked about the art. To be completely honest, I thought that would be the last I saw of her. But to my pleasant surprise she came back the next day and snapped up both of the pieces she had been looking at. And I have been lucky in that that kind of thing has happened a couple of times throughout the summer.

People like her make stupid questions like “Are these prices in Canadian?”

No, they’re in Japanese yen weirdly enough.

“Are all of these yours?”

They’re mine in that I look after them…

“This doesn’t have a price on it, does that mean it’s free?”

No. And I hate you as a human being.

My coworkers and I have made it a game to find the stupidest thing someone could say in an art gallery. At least it keeps us entertained.

Here’s a picture of Sir Van Horne wearing a cape

Do You Believe in Magic

This week I want to talk more about all of the really amazing artists I’ve learned about and met since starting here at Mountain Galleries. Last month I mentioned them here and there and how I am more often than not on the front lines when they arrive for their week of Artist in Residence, but I haven’t really gone into much more depth.

One of the comments I get a lot working here is if I’m in school to study art or art history, and even when I answer with, “No, just history,” people still like to tack “art” onto the front of it. Whatever. If keeps them happy and out of my way…. Anyway, just because my passion lies with facts and dates and people long dead, that doesn’t mean I am not captivated by paintings and sculptures and architectures of times gone by. When I think about my relationship with art I constantly revert back to a character in my favourite Stephen King novel Duma Key who said that her involvement with the art world was like the old saying “if you can’t be an athlete, be an athletic supporter.”

If you can’t be an artist, be an artistic supporter.

Unfortunately, given my current finances and my starving-student status, I can’t really afford to be an artistic supporter, but that doesn’t stop me from looking.

Here’s a doodle I did of the dancing bear that lived on my desk.

Over the course of my 3 and a half months here I have gotten to know this collection of artists quite well, even though I haven’t personally met many of them. I have gravitated towards my favourites and have enjoyed watching the trends of the public’s favourites, two groups that more often than not don’t quite overlap. But that’s okay. Beauty, as they so often say, is in the eye of the beholder.

There is a really great mix of talents here at Mountain Galleries; we’ve got everything from hyper-realism, to abstract-realism, to straight-up modernist. Yeah. Fancy art terms. I got em all.

Can you tell I’ve taken art history classes? Yeesh.

Personally, I like pretty much everything, with the exception of whatever you’d call what came out of the 1950’s. Things like Pollock and Van Doesburg just do not do it for me. Sorry. The whole Modernist, Avant-Garde stuff? No thanks, not for this chick. I don’t really think I’m that much of an art snob, but yeah, the old masters? I can get behind that. Michelangelo and Da Vinci, and at the other end of the spectrum Monet  and Van Gogh. But before I am an artistic fan, I am a Canadian and Canada has produced some really really great artists over the years. The creme de la creme of the Canadian art world are the Group of Seven, artists active mostly in the 1920s-1930s and who basically created the Canadian style. Meaning: landscapes. It is from these seven that most of the artists promoted by Mountain Galleries draws their influences from, even if they don’t admit it themselves.

My personal favourite top 3 here in the gallery that I have loved since before I knew their names are as follows:

1. Gail Johnson
2. Randy Hayashi
3. Charlie Easton

Gail Johnson tops my list because it really was love at first sight. Her works are dominated by bright, larger than life flowers in the most vibrant colours. Her’s is the most abstract of my top 3, but in a way that reminds me of my favourite classic painter, Vincent Van Gogh.

Van Gogh’s classic Sunflowers vs Johnson’s lively Come Springtime

Randy Hayashi is what I consider to be “abstract realist” in his styling. Basically what I mean by this is his works are dominated by colours and shapes that blend together in a way that makes it very obvious it isn’t a straight photograph, but they’re realistic enough to still be able to tell what you’re looking at.

Detail from Hayashi’s The Way to Andromeda

Charlie Easton is the happy middle between the other 2. All 3 use really bright colours in their works, but Charlie works without what I think of borders. He utilizes sweeping brushstrokes and random dabs of contrasting colours to make the most magnificent lake scenes I have ever seen. Not that those are the only things he does, but they are by far my favourites.

Detail from Easton’s In the Heart of Lake Louise

I’ve had the pleasure of meeting both Gail and Charlie through our artist in residence program this summer and they are responsible for some of the brightest spots of my work life. They are both supremely happy people who are an absolute joy to be around and I made a point of making up excuses to wander up and hang out with them. I am quite sad that I won’t get a chance to meet Randy, but apparently I have to go back to school the week he’s here. Who decided that?! So uncool.

Just like my previous Co-op job I have learned a huge amount about a very specific selection of Canadian art and artists, this time around though I’ve been brought up to the modern day and I am very much looking forward to seeking out the names I’ve come to love as I move around this fantastically odd country of mine.

She Loves You

Ok, home skillets, here’s what’s going on.

Things have not improved much since my last post, but I am constantly fighting to keep my spirits up as I move into the last month of my Co-Op. What has sort of started to happen is that I am now living a double life. During any given day I am two different people: the Kate who goes to work and wears uncomfortable shoes and smiles at lost tourists and sells art; and the Kate who goes looking for adventures and entertainment and wears comic book tshirts and ruins her makeup by laughing too hard. It is the latter Kate that I try to be all day every day, but I sometimes find it hard to be her when I’m up to my eyes with people asking constant questions and there is no one around to alleviate some of that pressure.

Which reminds me: that 4th person I mentioned last week? Yeah, he’s not actually working here in Banff. He worked with us in the gallery for about 3 days before it was decided that he is actually going to be working out of the Jasper location, as well as being the new “go-getter.” So now we see him on Mondays when he comes to help move around the artists in residence, as well as every now and again when he has to drop something off or pick something up. He seems to be pretty ok with his new lot in life, but I find it frustrating because we need that extra pair of hands! Especially over the weekends.

So as all of that was happening it also came to pass that D will actually be leaving at the beginning of August instead of the beginning of October. The silver lining here is that we are expecting new person to join us and eventually step into the Management position out here, but now her arrival will just line up with D’s departure. And we shall remain a cast of 3 for the foreseeable future.

What else is going on? Hmm… My sales have gone up exponentially over the past few days! Over just this past weekend we made about $30,000. Which is pretty freaking exciting. It’s also something I’ve been thinking a lot about since it’s happened because it’s helped put me in a new mindset when it comes to making sales. Already I feel more confident in myself to handle these kinds of situations and this amount of money. I also have the feeling that this will be one of the positive attributes I’ll be able to carry with me into whatever shenanigans my future brings. It has also given me new life goals.

The total is $10,000? Yes, please charge that to my Visa thank you. -Kate, eventually.

This past weekend also saw me turn 22, which I find really exciting for some reason because I hated having to tell people I was 21. Every single time it kinda sounded like I was lying.

But, as always, I’m still living for the future. Looking forward to special events and road trips with my best friend and concerts and going back to the coast, which I apparently miss very much. I’m looking forward to my next big sale and sleeping in late and, above all else, living as a harmoniously inside my own head as I am capable.

Seriously. It’s hard living in here.

Pictured: Kate.

Carry On, You Wayward Sons

I hate beginnings. I never know how to start these things. There’s an episode of Supernatural where the profit, Chuck, narrates the episode and he says at one point that beginnings are easy. He said that it’s the endings that suck, because no one is ever going to be satisfied with where the writer leaves things. To that I say Ha! I wish. But what do I know right? I’m just a history student with no idea what I’m doing.

Summer is in full swing here and everywhere is teeming with people. It’s ok though because, like I’ve already said, I don’t spend much time amongst the huddled masses and can therefore largely ignore them. Things are a bit busier for me at work though, which is nice because it gives me something to focus on.

We three here have all sort of settled into our own roles at work: J manages things like inter-gallery communications and bookings and orders and is our main salesperson. D is our go-getter. As in; he goes places to get things or drop stuff off or help out wherever help is needed. I’m kind of like a PR person. A few months ago the grand poobahs of the hotel gave the gallery a space on the main mezzanine level that we can use as an Art Room. So now every week an artist comes, gets put up and fed by the hotel, and works in this great room beside the most popular ballroom in the hotel. It’s pretty awesome. Because I’m usually the one working when these artists show up I’ve become the hostess. I make sure they have everything they need and know where to get everything they will need and so on. And its actually a lot of fun!

If every you get a chance, dear reader, to work with artists, I highly recommend you take the job. Artists are possibly one of the most fascinating kinds of people to watch because there’s very little logic involved; they are reactionary people, run on instinct and feeling. It’s amazing. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even begin to try. I’m too controlling. Which is partially why I think I make a good host for them; I have planned ahead to anticipate what they might ask for and have it ready and waiting for them before they even need to ask.

But you know what? You will never meet a nicer bunch of people. Sometimes artists can be aloof and absolute drama queens, but I’ve been fortunate in that the ones who work with Mountain Galleries are really down to earth and just interesting to be around. I spend so much of my life now studying certain artist’s styles that when I finally get to meet them in the flesh I get this kind of “ah ha! That explains it” moment.

For someone who generally tries to avoid most of humanity, I seem to really like meeting new people…

Anyway, things have settled into a rhythm of chaos and calm here in the gallery, but we’ve got a new guy joining us shortly and I’m looking forward to getting to know my new coworker. Just as long as he can tolerate my constant barrage of pop culture references I think we’ll be fine. Or he can just do what the others do; smile and nod.

Smile and nod at the weirdness of Kate

These Streets Are Yours, You Can Keep Them

It’s that time of year again, folks.

Tourist Season.

LIGHTNING FLASH AND DRAMATIC MUSIC!

This is a pretty big deal here in Banff and every year people react one of three ways, depending on how long they themselves have been here:

1. EXCITEMENT!! This reaction comes to us from those who own businesses in town and/or have something to gain from a sudden and huge influx of people. Also, usually the tourists too. They’re excited to be here. Because this town is awesome.
2. Terror. This sentiment usually sets in by about mid-June for people new to town. Remember, we get a lot of seasonal workers who come up for the winter and end up staying longer than they thought. It’s in these people where the shock of several million tourists really hits hardest. Yes, Banff can take on this tsunami and walk away the winner.
3. Irritation. Easily the most common of the three, those of us who have witnessed Banff in the summer before are more or less mildly to extremely TO’d consistently until September. We like the business and the new faces tourist season brings to town, but we loathe the traffic (both on and off the roads) and the never-ending barrage of stupid questions.

These guys count as locals. And they’re very moody.

Right now, the town of Banff is quietly beginning to brace itself for the sheer madness that is the start of July. If you find yourself wondering “what could possibly be so bad about July that these people react this way?” I urge you to look at map of Alberta and note the closest city to Banff. Go ahead, I’ll wait. Welcome back! And yes, the closest city is Calgary. Proud and annual host of the “world famous” Calgary Stampede; a week long affair of carnival rides, weird food, and all the rodeo events you could dream of. Take that, Texas.

I can tell you from personal experience that there are a lot of really great things about Stampede, and it can be a lot of fun! But it can also cause a huge amount of grief. Calgary is a big city, they have the room and the resources to handle all the visitors, but Banff doesn’t. This matters because a huge amount of those people – both those who come for Stampede and the Calgarians trying to get away from it – wind up in Banff at some point during the week. I’m getting a headache just thinking about it.

Let’s put this in perspective for a second:

Alright. Banff, as of it’s 2014 municipal census, has a permanent population of about 8500, plus a non-permanent population of about 1000. The town site (the space in which we are allowed to build within the National Park) is 4.85 square kilometers. That’s a population density of almost 1400 people per square kilometer. We learn to develop sharp elbows quickly, effective for shoving people out of the way! Now, on top of the people living and working here, we’ll get about 1-2 million visitors over the peak 4 months of summer. Maybe more. Turns out people really like coming here. It’s kind of hard to pin this number down because not everyone passing through will stop, and not all those who spend time here check in at the Park gates. Ya sneaky buggers.

This summer is the first one I’ll spend not working downtown. This is really exciting for me because I live on the same side of the bridge as the Banff Springs! So I don’t have to deal with that chaos. Yes, the span of one bridge makes for an easily happy Kate. What it doesn’t mean is that I’m completely cut off; as more people come to town, more people are staying in the hotel, which means there are more people spending their money in the shops here rather than braving the town’s crowds. It’s actually a really nice filter I’ve never experienced before. It’s a smaller amount of people than I’m accustomed to, so it’s really easy to keep up while also providing good service.

But like I said, this is the calm before the storm. If you don’t hear from me by mid-July send search parties to check the hills around Whistler, chances are good the crowds will have blasted me out that way. I have a friend out there. I may not come back to Banff until the tides recede. Until then I’ll get my water wings out of storage.

My sister and I lark about on empty ski hills when we hide from people

Money, That’s What I Want

This week I feel the need to finally offer something in the way of an explanation for my titles. Especially as this one seems quite blunt, don’t you think? Now, I don’t know how many of you fine readers may have noticed this yet, but I’ll spill the beans anyway; all of my titles are songs. There. I said it. I’m one of those people who is almost physically incapable of doing anything without listening to music. It’s a habit I’ve had since I was a little kid – I gained a love for Led Zeppelin’s Mothership from my mothership in the womb. Dad used to play me The Who’s Quadrophenia to get me to go to sleep as a baby – and I still have no desire to kick it. So, when it came time to write this blog, it was of course song titles that popped into my warped little brain that would pave the way for my ramblings. Except for the site name. That one’s all me! But I figured it was about time I get down to the brass tax of my summer co-op. Behind the question, “Where do you work?” the next most popular one is “Is there good money in that?”

Of course there is. This place is priceless.

Who needs windows?

What I think is so awesome about Co-op programs is that not only are we getting real world experience working jobs in our chosen fields, but we also get credits and paychecks. Score! Basically, I’m spending my summer working to pay for school while getting credits from said school to work. It’s workception. Whatever. It keeps Mom and Dad happy and me out of trouble.

What’s also really cool about this particular job is my newly acquired role in the gallery. I’ve mentioned that I’m the only female working here right now, and in line with the women of ancient Viking culture, I am now in charge of all cash handlings too. In the simplest of terms, this job was given to me by my manager because he already has too much stuff on the go to properly stay on top of it. So now it’s my responsibility! I know that kinda sounds like a lame thing to be excited about, but I’m kind of lame. So deal with it.

But in all seriousness, this is something I’m really looking forward to taking care of because I got to establish new, easy to follow methods for handling cash in the gallery on a day-to-day basis. What this means is that even after I leave, the people who will still be working here, or are new here, will be able to carry it on without having to go through the learning curve I did in order to catch up. Thankfully, I’ve had experience with this sort of thing in the past so it was not much of a learning curve, but it was still an awesome responsibility for someone at my level in this crazy art world I have found myself in.

I mean, come on, who sells original art to the tunes of The Beatles and Neil Young?

With A Little Help From My Friends

Miss, please don’t touch everything.

I have now been working at the gallery for just shy of a month and let me tell you I could swear that I’ve only been here 5 minutes. But according to my – frequently edited – calendar that seems to not be the case. You know that old cliche “time flies when you’re having fun”? Well in my case its more like “time flies while you’re not paying attention to it.” Allow me to clarify…

Anyone in the working world worth their salt will be able to tell you a dozen and one horror stories from previous jobs they’ve worked over the years. Chances are those stories will include over-exaggerated anecdotes about how they lost track of how many times they prayed for the day to end so they could go home and watch TV. About how Jim from down the hall drives them up the wall and how does he still work here?! And the classic; the boss is a sadistic psycho. And yes, I have a few of these as well. Guilty. But, and I thank my lucky stars, this will not be one of them.

This branch of Mountain Galleries has at this exact moment 3 full-time employees and 2 daily shifts between us. What this means is that every week, Thursday through Monday, I get up, putz around the house for a while, walk to work, and spend the vast majority of the rest of my day alone. That walk to work though is one of the best parts of my day. I’ve already said that I’ve lived in Banff my whole life, but that doesn’t mean I’m not awestruck every time I walk out my front door. Cascade and Rundle Mountains are constant travel companions and aside from the odd deer or elk I walk my commute free from the bustle of the downtown core.

Even at 11PM Cascade likes to remind you who’s bigger

But I had a point to make…. I think.

Ah yes! My coworkers.

Now this is a little bit of an unusual situation, in my opinion, because I am so used to working with or around a large number of people. But now I only see my coworkers for an hour every day. 1 hour. And it isn’t even both of them, its always just one or the other. One of the unexpectedly great things about this set-up is that we never run out of things to talk about! And boy, do we like to talk. I like to joke that we three would make the most entertaining sitcom ever: the experienced salesman/artist, the mountaineering Ontario transplant, and the local chick. Like any good sitcom, we have our colourful rotating supporting cast of characters taking the guises of artists, clients, and lost hotel guests just looking for the way out. I call dibs on the copyrights. We have a lot of fun at work, which is important in this field because it is so easy to get discouraged or intimidated by what it takes to stay afloat in the commercial art world. There is a certain amount of pressure put on us to always be professional and courteous and good salespeople, and it was this impending pressure that had me so worried before I started. Have you met me? I mean, my go-to work bag has a sugar skull Storm Trooper helmet on it. You’d be hard pressed to find me wearing shoes that aren’t Chuck Taylors. In my spare time I read 1980s fantasy novels and watch black and white Beatles movies. I am a nerd working in an art gallery. And I love it.

A Journey Through the Past

I seem to be utterly unable to do anything or go anywhere without immersing myself in the stories other people have left behind, commonly known as “history.” So, naturally, when I started working at Mountain Galleries I went about squirreling out information about my new surroundings.

I was initially shocked to discover that the very first in the series of these galleries was established just shortly before I made my own entrance into the world. Spreading out from Jasper over the years, this Banff location set up shop in 2004, becoming the bouncing baby brother and rounding out the trifecta of Fairmont gems. I mean, come on, have you seen these hotels? They really are the closest thing we’ve got to castles in this corner of the world and they’ve stood the test of time brilliantly. But more on that later.

I knew from the word go that my new boss was the founder and visionary behind these galleries, as well as a well-established Canadian artist. What I’ve learned in the mean time is the huge importance the galleries place not only on the artists they promote, but also on the people who walk out the door with their art. I’m not a grasshopper in the commercial art world, I’ve been around the proverbial block at least once, and never before have I seen such dedication to clients who don’t often hold “membership” cards. It’s a great feeling to know that everyone who walks through my door is important and in turn it makes people excited to be so doted upon, even if they don’t walk away with a purchase. A dominating theme in my days is making sure people know our doors are always open to them, even if they don’t return until years after I myself have left. No wonder these galleries fit so nicely into these hotels.

Which reminds me…

The Banff Springs Hotel was built from 1887 – 1888 by this guy:

Sir William C Van Horne. Kind of. Van Horne was the president of the Canadian Pacific Railroad around the turn of the 20th century and when the discovery and booming popularity of the naturally occurring Banff Hot Springs demanded a larger facility to house guests he said

“Build it here.”

Right here.

and then left the head architect and his team to make it so. It took the team almost a perfect 365 days to build the Scottish-influenced wooden structure, and it officially opened its doors in the Spring of 1888. It was during this initial construction that the hotel gained an extremely unusual and horrifying architectural blunder: it was built backwards. If you’ve ever seen a photo of the hotel, present-day or otherwise, chances are its from a distance with the rest of Sulfur Mountain rising behind it. This famous postcard shot is taken from across the Bow River and is so often done so because that’s the front of the building. Oops. Even though the original wood structure was gradually replaced by concrete and stone over the years, and additions were added to make the back look more like a front, there was no way to wholly rectify that initial mistake. And so, appropriately striking the tone for the town that followed, this place remains a little off kilter.

What does that tell you about the people who live here, eh?