This is one of Marie-Alice Dumont’s best-known photographs. Taken in the early days of her practice, it shows her father, Uldéric, smoking a pipe and wearing a straw hat, gazing into the distance as he sits comfortably on the steps of the family home. Marie-Alice’s nephew Origène Dumont looks at his grandfather with a mixture of shyness and admiration. Were they posing, or was it a spontaneous scene?
This little girl, probably one of Marie-Alice Dumont’s nieces, often appears in her shots: on the front porch, in the studio, on the family plot, alone or in a group. Here, we see her in front of the house in the heart of the village. She is on the right, picking a flower. Is she enjoying herself as much as the photographer behind the lens?
François Dumont recounts in autobiographical notes how pleasant it was, “back in the day,” to spend evenings and weekends with relatives and friends. We can imagine that this group portrait was taken by Marie-Alice Dumont during such a visit. François, at the back on the left, is with his father, Uldéric, and his brother Joseph-Napoléon (in the middle), as well as his brother-in-law Émile Boucher (the tallest of them all). As usual, several nieces and nephews are present for the occasion.
Family and home life played a central role in Marie-Alice’s work. She worked from home most of the time—a bit like teleworkers do today—alongside her loved ones. Imagine: two of her sisters acted as her assistants, her mother’s room was right behind the large backdrop, and even the hallway doubled as part of the studio.
Is it any surprise that, from the early 1920s, her parents started appearing in everyday snapshots? Marie-Alice also loved to photograph her siblings and other relatives. Often, the portraits she took were candid, almost impromptu, capturing the close-knit bond between the photographer and her subjects.
For four decades, Marie-Alice documented her family through her lens. These images now offer us a glimpse into the Dumont family’s history. Explore this section to discover their story.
In this portrait, perhaps taken by one of her assistants, Marie-Alice Dumont is elegantly dressed, standing on the front porch of the house containing her studio. Is she on her way to mass?
The St. Lawrence River is part of everyday life for many residents of the Kamouraska area. Here, Marie-Alice Dumont is testing the buoyancy of a rudimentary raft while enjoying a swim with some of her nephews.
Before we dive into the stories of her family, it is worth noting that Marie-Alice often found herself in front of the lens, too. She had a fondness for taking self-portraits from time to time. In the early 20th century, the selfie craze was still a long way off, let alone the selfie stick! Try to imagine a camera the size of a shoebox, mounted on a pole… quite a sight! Nevertheless, Marie-Alice managed to act as her own model on occasion.
How did she do it? First, a remote trigger allowed her to operate the camera by herself. She also had a timer, which gave her a few precious seconds to position herself in front of the lens.
She would certainly have taught some of her family members how to work the camera, as well as the young assistants who came and went throughout her career. It seems that, more often than not, it was her family who helped her get in front of the camera.
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Do you see her? Marie-Alice is on the far left! Perhaps you also recognize her parents, Uldéric and Marie, in the back row? Or her sister Elizabeth, on the far right, wearing glasses? They were not just visiting Marie-Alice; in fact, they were all living with her, even though she was a professional photographer working from home. In the early 20th century, it was not at all unusual for several generations to live together in the same house. The four young girls seen here could be Dumont’s nieces. This family portrait illustrates the strong connection between the photographer’s career and her family. It is easy to imagine Dumont greeting her clients by saying: “Welcome to our home!” By the way, did you notice the studio’s sign next to the front door? It reads: “Mlle M. A. Dumont Photographe Kodak et Films” (which translates as “Miss M. A. Dumont Kodak and Film Photographer”). The sign can be seen in many other photographs in this exhibition.
Marie-Alice Dumont worked independently and owned a small business, all of which was hard work! Here, the photographer is taking a break at the home of her sister Émilia, who was hosting her for a short stay on the Île aux Patins, across the water from Kamouraska. Dumont had just spent the day exploring the area, breathing the sea air and listening to the sounds of the St. Lawrence River. Then, as we can see from the soft light on the horizon, Marie-Alice sat down to enjoy the magnificent sunset.
In this “joyful jumble of bodies,” as art historian Lucie Bureau put it, Marie-Alice Dumont can be seen in the middle, wearing a dark dress. The small group has just arrived at Pointe-de-Rivière-du-Loup, on the banks of the river, having travelled in the truck just visible in the background. Like many other locals, these cousins, nieces and friends would picnic and spend part of their day off there.
What could be more typically Québécois than a visit to the sugar shack in the spring? And in a horse-drawn sleigh at that! Here, Marie-Alice Dumont, third from left, is accompanied by a young Rosalie Bergeron, second from left. Could the photographer have been helping her newly adopted sister integrate into her family?
In 1936, Marie-Alice Dumont underwent an operation and was hospitalized for two months in Rivière-du-Loup. During her stay at the hospital, she took several photos of the nurses, doctor, other patients and staff. She also had her portrait taken a few times, as shown here. Did she intend to give these snapshots to the nurses? Or did she simply want to distract herself? As art historian Lucie Bureau points out, whatever the reason, this series of photos, kept carefully in an envelope, tells us about life at the Rivière-du-Loup hospital at the time.
Here, the photographer poses in her orchard, proudly showing off the branch of an apple tree laden with fruit. Along with the vegetables she grew in her garden, apples and plums were an important additional income source. Marie-Alice Dumont could augment her income from photography by selling produce—a big help when money was tight. The Dumont family had always kept large gardens and fruit trees. As a result, the family fared relatively well, even during the economic crisis of the 1930s. As for Marie-Alice, she had so many apples that she wouldn’t have worried too much if one got pilfered now and then!
Marie-Alice Dumont and Rosalie Bergeron, aged around 50 and 25, respectively, sit in the orchard behind the home studio. They each hold an apple in their hands. Do you notice Dumont’s rather inscrutable expression, which seems to make Rosalie laugh? Does this have anything to do with… the middle finger Dumont is flashing with her left hand? Who would have thought! Always polite and well groomed, the photographer also had a good sense of humour and a good quip when teased.
Marie-Alice Dumont poses with her sister Marie-Jeanne in front of the imposing Collège de la Pocatière building. Dumont is holding a Kodak camera, which suggests that her brother Napoléon is taking the photo, using his own camera. All three are preparing to leave on a trip to visit family in Lotbinière, and to pay their respects at the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
In this photo, Marie-Alice (centre) and her brother Joseph-Napoléon pose with their goddaughter Céline Dumont, aged around one or two years old. Céline is Rosalie Bergeron’s eldest daughter. In 1947, the year this photo was taken, Rosalie had been married for two years and lived in Sainte-Croix, in the Lotbinière region, with her husband, Lorenzo. But Rosalie sorely missed the Dumont family and Saint-Alexandre! Marie-Alice and Napoléon knew this all too well, and they visited her whenever they could. Here, brother and sister are on their way to the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières.
Marie-Alice Dumont, her brother Joseph-Napoléon and their sister Marie-Jeanne visit the shrine of Cap-de-la-Madeleine in Trois-Rivières. This Catholic pilgrimage site dedicated to the Virgin Mary is the second largest of its kind in North America. Here, as this portrait by Dumont shows, there is a spring, also known as the “miraculous fountain,” whose water is said to have remarkable properties. Every pilgrim in the Dumonts’ little group went there to reflect and recharge and, while there, have their portraits taken.
When Rosalie left home in 1946, Marie-Alice Dumont had no one to help out in the studio. This was a great loss for the photographer, as Rosalie worked with her for almost 20 years. But she did not dwell on it! Shortly afterwards, the photographer welcomed Lucille Bérubé into her home. Lucille stayed with her for 10 years, until 1957. At that point in time, at the age of 64 or 65, the photographer was nearing the end of her career, and fortunately had had studio assistance for almost all of it. This emphasizes how difficult photography could be, indeed often requiring a team effort. As she had done with Rosalie, Dumont developed a wonderful working relationship with Lucille. This portrait shows Dumont at Lucille’s wedding to Léonard Gagné. The photographer, on the right, wears a striped dress and a flower brooch. Is she acting as bridesmaid to her former assistant?
Dumont had chosen not to get married and, instead, to pursue an atypical career. She also never owned a car, though she often took photographs outside her studio, in various spots around the greater Kamouraska area. Did she walk to every location? Of course not! Throughout her career, Dumont’s customers would give her a ride so that she could take photographs at events large and small: picnics among friends, weddings, religious gatherings, parades, family reunions and so on. In this photo, Dumont has just left her home. Tripod in one hand, camera in the other, the photographer (aged around 60) once again takes to the road for her work.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Alice Dumont’s niece by marriage, her “Aunt Alice” was a proud woman who liked to dress in fashionable clothes. These two aspects of her personality come through in this magnificent portrait of the photographer, taken towards the end of her career. She stands tall, her gaze sure, in front of the entrance to her studio. Its sign is clearly visible on the right. She is elegantly dressed in a coordinated outfit—fur coat, stylish hat, impeccable boots and leather gloves—completed with a small purse. Where do you think she is going, dressed up like this?
Daughter of François-Xavier Pelletier and Arthémise Garon, Marie Pelletier (1868–1932) was born into a farming family in Saint-Alexandre-de-Kamouraska. Her parents owned land on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. In 1885, she married Uldéric Dumont, who was 13 years her senior. She died of cancer at the age of 64. If we are to believe Joseph-Napoléon, Uldéric “was full of praise for this woman who was so good, so Christian, so skilled at the domestic duties of the time, so understanding, so thrifty, so hard-working and so strong in the face of life’s trials.”
Son of Georges-Létus Dumont and Marie-Séraphine Anctil, Uldéric Dumont (1855–1945) was born in Saint-Alexandre-de-Kamouraska. He is shown here at the age of 80, posed by his daughter Marie-Alice. His wife, Marie Pelletier, had recently passed away, making him a widower. In the words of his son Joseph-Napoléon, Uldéric “walked with dignity in the footsteps of his ancestors, all trailblazers and farmers, all brave pioneers, models of courage, constancy and perseverance.” Napoléon clearly had great admiration for his father! Uldéric seems to have commanded enormous respect within the family. On his 80th birthday, his 56 surviving grandchildren got together to send him a letter of praise, in which they thanked their “revered grandfather” for his “blessings.”
Marie-Alice was fortunate that her parents, Marie Pelletier and Uldéric Dumont, supported her photography career. This was quite something! At the time she chose to pursue photography, women in the field were rare; even more so in rural Kamouraska, where career options for women were far fewer than in the city. By all accounts, Marie-Alice should have followed the usual path for women: get married and settle down as a housewife or perhaps become a teacher or nun. But a photographer? And staying single to boot? It seemed unimaginable!
But Marie and Uldéric not only accepted her unconventional path, they actively supported their “rather unique” daughter, as her brother Napoléon put it. First, they allowed her to set up a basic studio in their tiny home on the 5e Rang, a country road. Then, when the family moved into town in 1926, they agreed to turn much of their new house into a studio. Almost every day, they lived with clients coming in and out of their home. Marie even lent Marie-Alice a large portion of the money needed for equipment, allowing Studio Dumont to get off the ground.
Marie and Uldéric were proud of their daughter and entertained by her profession. They could hardly resist when she asked them to pose for practice shots. Marie-Alice, ever the trickster, even photographed them while they napped! Would she have dared such mischief if they had not been so supportive and if their relationship was not so close? After all, who enjoys being caught off guard in a photograph? Without a doubt, Marie-Alice could always rely on her parents. And she would go on to care for them until the very end of their lives.
Marie-Alice Dumont’s parents, Marie and Uldéric, were favourite subjects in her early photographs, and they willingly lent themselves to their daughter’s visual experiments. Art historian Madeleine Marcil observes that they seem “very comfortable” in front of the camera. Here, Uldéric sits on the porch steps, smoking a pipe and stroking the cat—the only one who’s looking at us. Marie stands next to him, leaning on the railing, holding a straw hat in her right hand. She made this hat herself, as well as Uldéric’s. She also made the fabric to make their clothes. Marie and Uldéric were very resourceful, capable people. In a 1990 interview, Réal Beaupré, the photographer’s nephew, expressed the wistfulness he felt when looking at this portrait of his grandparents: “Let’s just say it sums up the times. In those days, they took the time to sit down and pet the cats.”
Marie-Alice Dumont grew up surrounded by photography. In the Dumont family, photo albums were passed down from generation to generation. Family members also frequented the Rivière-du-Loup studios, as revealed by the archives of photographers Stanislas Belle and Ulric Lavoie, which include portraits of François, Joseph-Napoléon, Émilia, Anna, Marie-Jeanne and Marie-Louise, all siblings of Marie-Alice. Lavoie’s portrait shows the photographer’s parents and her younger sister Berthe.
From 1920 to 1925, Marie-Alice Dumont was mastering the techniques and craft of photography. During this period of experimentation, she took photos of her loved ones going about their daily activities. The budding photographer could sometimes be a little mischievous, which resulted in some very authentic shots! This is the case with various portraits of her parents dozing off, such as this one of Marie Pelletier, who had fallen asleep while knitting.
Here is another shot Marie-Alice Dumont took of a sleeping parent, this time her father, Uldéric. Although it is hard for us to imagine pioneer life in the 19th and early 20th centuries, we know it was certainly exhausting. Uldéric was only able to go to school long enough to learn his catechism and the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. From an early age, he had to help his parents with farm work. He learned how to make his own farming implements (rakes, forks, carts, etc.). He could also make a host of other useful items, such as shoes and household furniture, as well as putting up farm buildings. Throughout his farming life, Uldéric never used machinery or tractors, or even electricity. Instead, he relied on horses and elbow grease. His example shows us just how many different skills were required to be a farmer in his day.
In her 1981 filmed interview, Marie-Alice Dumont recalls the time she photographed her parents asleep at the dining table. The photographer explained: “After the girls had eaten, [my parents] were talking together. Suddenly, [my mother] fell asleep, [my father saw her], and he fell asleep too. It was the perfect time to take their picture. We cleared the dishes, closed the curtains [and then I took the shot].” Dumont also remembers her parents’ surprise and amusement when they found out. Intrigued by the anecdote, the interviewer asked Dumont if surprises like this happened from time to time, to which the photographer replied with a knowing smile: “Yes, yes.”
In Marie-Alice Dumont’s day, the task of feeding a large family was one faced by many mothers, Marie Pelletier included: she had 12 children who survived into adulthood. In this magnificent portrait, another window into the home life of the Dumonts, Marie is busy preparing a huge batch of bread. Her grandson Origène mimics her, equipped with a small baking pan.
Marie Pelletier seems to have enjoyed carrying out daily tasks from her rocking chair. At least, that is what some of Marie-Alice Dumont’s portraits of her suggest! Here, Marie weaves a straw hat that will come in very handy for herself or her husband Uldéric during the long days spent working outside on the farm.
Uldéric Dumont was a seasoned farmer. He is seen here picking apples on his family’s property on the 5e Rang, in 1925. In the following years, together with his daughter Marie-Alice and son François, he also cultivated a 300-tree orchard of apple and plum trees on the grounds of the new village house. The family made a sizeable income from it.
Another task performed by Marie Pelletier was warping: preparing threads into a warp that is then mounted on the loom. Such work required a great deal of dexterity.
This group portrait illustrates the domestic, even familial, nature of Marie-Alice Dumont’s business. Here, Uldéric, Marie and the photographer stand on the porch of the home that also housed Studio Dumont. In the foreground, we see Marie-Alice Dumont’s younger sister Elizabeth (far right), who would become her assistant in the photography studio.
Although much older than his wife Marie Pelletier (he was 30 when they married; she was 17), Uldéric Dumont outlived his wife by a dozen years (she died in 1932). He is shown here in his coffin, displayed in the living room of his daughter Marie-Alice’s home and studio. As she had cared for her mother, the photographer also cared for her father until his death in 1945. The obituary that appeared in L’Action catholique on October 5, 1945, described Uldéric as follows: “A model farmer and pioneer, Mr. Dumont gave his family and fellow parishioners the example of a life filled with hard work. His piety edified all who knew him. […] after many years of hard work, he had achieved an honest standard of living, and he gave his family of 14 children a suitable education.”
The expression “Death is part of life” was particularly meaningful in Marie-Alice Dumont’s day. It was common practice for parents to live with their children until they died. They often grew old in the care of their loved ones, then died at home. This was the case for Marie Pelletier, shown here bedridden at the end of life, in a room just behind Marie-Alice’s photography studio. While plump throughout her adult life, Marie appears here with an emaciated face. Approaching the end of a difficult battle with cancer lasting many years, she is exhausted and very weak. Berthe, seeing her mother’s suffering, thinks, “She must be looking forward to seeing dear Jesus!” This portrait captures the moment when Marie was ready to make the great journey, crucifix in hand, trusting in God’s grace. The photographer must have had a heavy heart when she took this photo. Berthe knew how well Marie-Alice looked after her mother until the end. Berthe wrote to her: “My dear Alice, you deserve such praise.”
Marie-Alice Dumont grew up surrounded by photography. In the Dumont family, photo albums were passed down from generation to generation. Family members also frequented the Rivière-du-Loup studios, as revealed by the archives of photographers Stanislas Belle and Ulric Lavoie, which include portraits of François, Joseph-Napoléon, Émilia, Anna, Marie-Jeanne and Marie-Louise, all siblings of Marie-Alice. Lavoie’s portrait shows the photographer’s parents and her younger sister Berthe.
From 1920 to 1925, Marie-Alice Dumont was mastering the techniques and craft of photography. During this period of experimentation, she took photos of her loved ones going about their daily activities. The budding photographer could sometimes be a little mischievous, which resulted in some very authentic shots! This is the case with various portraits of her parents dozing off, such as this one of Marie Pelletier, who had fallen asleep while knitting.
Here is another shot Marie-Alice Dumont took of a sleeping parent, this time her father, Uldéric. Although it is hard for us to imagine pioneer life in the 19th and early 20th centuries, we know it was certainly exhausting. Uldéric was only able to go to school long enough to learn his catechism and the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. From an early age, he had to help his parents with farm work. He learned how to make his own farming implements (rakes, forks, carts, etc.). He could also make a host of other useful items, such as shoes and household furniture, as well as putting up farm buildings. Throughout his farming life, Uldéric never used machinery or tractors, or even electricity. Instead, he relied on horses and elbow grease. His example shows us just how many different skills were required to be a farmer in his day.
In her 1981 filmed interview, Marie-Alice Dumont recalls the time she photographed her parents asleep at the dining table. The photographer explained: “After the girls had eaten, [my parents] were talking together. Suddenly, [my mother] fell asleep, [my father saw her], and he fell asleep too. It was the perfect time to take their picture. We cleared the dishes, closed the curtains [and then I took the shot].” Dumont also remembers her parents’ surprise and amusement when they found out. Intrigued by the anecdote, the interviewer asked Dumont if surprises like this happened from time to time, to which the photographer replied with a knowing smile: “Yes, yes.”
In Marie-Alice Dumont’s day, the task of feeding a large family was one faced by many mothers, Marie Pelletier included: she had 12 children who survived into adulthood. In this magnificent portrait, another window into the home life of the Dumonts, Marie is busy preparing a huge batch of bread. Her grandson Origène mimics her, equipped with a small baking pan.
Marie Pelletier seems to have enjoyed carrying out daily tasks from her rocking chair. At least, that is what some of Marie-Alice Dumont’s portraits of her suggest! Here, Marie weaves a straw hat that will come in very handy for herself or her husband Uldéric during the long days spent working outside on the farm.
Uldéric Dumont was a seasoned farmer. He is seen here picking apples on his family’s property on the 5e Rang, in 1925. In the following years, together with his daughter Marie-Alice and son François, he also cultivated a 300-tree orchard of apple and plum trees on the grounds of the new village house. The family made a sizeable income from it.
Another task performed by Marie Pelletier was warping: preparing threads into a warp that is then mounted on the loom. Such work required a great deal of dexterity.
This group portrait illustrates the domestic, even familial, nature of Marie-Alice Dumont’s business. Here, Uldéric, Marie and the photographer stand on the porch of the home that also housed Studio Dumont. In the foreground, we see Marie-Alice Dumont’s younger sister Elizabeth (far right), who would become her assistant in the photography studio.
Although much older than his wife Marie Pelletier (he was 30 when they married; she was 17), Uldéric Dumont outlived his wife by a dozen years (she died in 1932). He is shown here in his coffin, displayed in the living room of his daughter Marie-Alice’s home and studio. As she had cared for her mother, the photographer also cared for her father until his death in 1945. The obituary that appeared in L’Action catholique on October 5, 1945, described Uldéric as follows: “A model farmer and pioneer, Mr. Dumont gave his family and fellow parishioners the example of a life filled with hard work. His piety edified all who knew him. […] after many years of hard work, he had achieved an honest standard of living, and he gave his family of 14 children a suitable education.”
The expression “Death is part of life” was particularly meaningful in Marie-Alice Dumont’s day. It was common practice for parents to live with their children until they died. They often grew old in the care of their loved ones, then died at home. This was the case for Marie Pelletier, shown here bedridden at the end of life, in a room just behind Marie-Alice’s photography studio. While plump throughout her adult life, Marie appears here with an emaciated face. Approaching the end of a difficult battle with cancer lasting many years, she is exhausted and very weak. Berthe, seeing her mother’s suffering, thinks, “She must be looking forward to seeing dear Jesus!” This portrait captures the moment when Marie was ready to make the great journey, crucifix in hand, trusting in God’s grace. The photographer must have had a heavy heart when she took this photo. Berthe knew how well Marie-Alice looked after her mother until the end. Berthe wrote to her: “My dear Alice, you deserve such praise.”
Marie-Alice Dumont grew up surrounded by photography. In the Dumont family, photo albums were passed down from generation to generation. Family members also frequented the Rivière-du-Loup studios, as revealed by the archives of photographers Stanislas Belle and Ulric Lavoie, which include portraits of François, Joseph-Napoléon, Émilia, Anna, Marie-Jeanne and Marie-Louise, all siblings of Marie-Alice. Lavoie’s portrait shows the photographer’s parents and her younger sister Berthe.
From 1920 to 1925, Marie-Alice Dumont was mastering the techniques and craft of photography. During this period of experimentation, she took photos of her loved ones going about their daily activities. The budding photographer could sometimes be a little mischievous, which resulted in some very authentic shots! This is the case with various portraits of her parents dozing off, such as this one of Marie Pelletier, who had fallen asleep while knitting.
Here is another shot Marie-Alice Dumont took of a sleeping parent, this time her father, Uldéric. Although it is hard for us to imagine pioneer life in the 19th and early 20th centuries, we know it was certainly exhausting. Uldéric was only able to go to school long enough to learn his catechism and the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. From an early age, he had to help his parents with farm work. He learned how to make his own farming implements (rakes, forks, carts, etc.). He could also make a host of other useful items, such as shoes and household furniture, as well as putting up farm buildings. Throughout his farming life, Uldéric never used machinery or tractors, or even electricity. Instead, he relied on horses and elbow grease. His example shows us just how many different skills were required to be a farmer in his day.
In her 1981 filmed interview, Marie-Alice Dumont recalls the time she photographed her parents asleep at the dining table. The photographer explained: “After the girls had eaten, [my parents] were talking together. Suddenly, [my mother] fell asleep, [my father saw her], and he fell asleep too. It was the perfect time to take their picture. We cleared the dishes, closed the curtains [and then I took the shot].” Dumont also remembers her parents’ surprise and amusement when they found out. Intrigued by the anecdote, the interviewer asked Dumont if surprises like this happened from time to time, to which the photographer replied with a knowing smile: “Yes, yes.”
In Marie-Alice Dumont’s day, the task of feeding a large family was one faced by many mothers, Marie Pelletier included: she had 12 children who survived into adulthood. In this magnificent portrait, another window into the home life of the Dumonts, Marie is busy preparing a huge batch of bread. Her grandson Origène mimics her, equipped with a small baking pan.
Marie Pelletier seems to have enjoyed carrying out daily tasks from her rocking chair. At least, that is what some of Marie-Alice Dumont’s portraits of her suggest! Here, Marie weaves a straw hat that will come in very handy for herself or her husband Uldéric during the long days spent working outside on the farm.
Uldéric Dumont was a seasoned farmer. He is seen here picking apples on his family’s property on the 5e Rang, in 1925. In the following years, together with his daughter Marie-Alice and son François, he also cultivated a 300-tree orchard of apple and plum trees on the grounds of the new village house. The family made a sizeable income from it.
Another task performed by Marie Pelletier was warping: preparing threads into a warp that is then mounted on the loom. Such work required a great deal of dexterity.
This group portrait illustrates the domestic, even familial, nature of Marie-Alice Dumont’s business. Here, Uldéric, Marie and the photographer stand on the porch of the home that also housed Studio Dumont. In the foreground, we see Marie-Alice Dumont’s younger sister Elizabeth (far right), who would become her assistant in the photography studio.
Although much older than his wife Marie Pelletier (he was 30 when they married; she was 17), Uldéric Dumont outlived his wife by a dozen years (she died in 1932). He is shown here in his coffin, displayed in the living room of his daughter Marie-Alice’s home and studio. As she had cared for her mother, the photographer also cared for her father until his death in 1945. The obituary that appeared in L’Action catholique on October 5, 1945, described Uldéric as follows: “A model farmer and pioneer, Mr. Dumont gave his family and fellow parishioners the example of a life filled with hard work. His piety edified all who knew him. […] after many years of hard work, he had achieved an honest standard of living, and he gave his family of 14 children a suitable education.”
The expression “Death is part of life” was particularly meaningful in Marie-Alice Dumont’s day. It was common practice for parents to live with their children until they died. They often grew old in the care of their loved ones, then died at home. This was the case for Marie Pelletier, shown here bedridden at the end of life, in a room just behind Marie-Alice’s photography studio. While plump throughout her adult life, Marie appears here with an emaciated face. Approaching the end of a difficult battle with cancer lasting many years, she is exhausted and very weak. Berthe, seeing her mother’s suffering, thinks, “She must be looking forward to seeing dear Jesus!” This portrait captures the moment when Marie was ready to make the great journey, crucifix in hand, trusting in God’s grace. The photographer must have had a heavy heart when she took this photo. Berthe knew how well Marie-Alice looked after her mother until the end. Berthe wrote to her: “My dear Alice, you deserve such praise.”
Marie-Alice Dumont grew up surrounded by photography. In the Dumont family, photo albums were passed down from generation to generation. Family members also frequented the Rivière-du-Loup studios, as revealed by the archives of photographers Stanislas Belle and Ulric Lavoie, which include portraits of François, Joseph-Napoléon, Émilia, Anna, Marie-Jeanne and Marie-Louise, all siblings of Marie-Alice. Lavoie’s portrait shows the photographer’s parents and her younger sister Berthe.
From 1920 to 1925, Marie-Alice Dumont was mastering the techniques and craft of photography. During this period of experimentation, she took photos of her loved ones going about their daily activities. The budding photographer could sometimes be a little mischievous, which resulted in some very authentic shots! This is the case with various portraits of her parents dozing off, such as this one of Marie Pelletier, who had fallen asleep while knitting.
Here is another shot Marie-Alice Dumont took of a sleeping parent, this time her father, Uldéric. Although it is hard for us to imagine pioneer life in the 19th and early 20th centuries, we know it was certainly exhausting. Uldéric was only able to go to school long enough to learn his catechism and the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. From an early age, he had to help his parents with farm work. He learned how to make his own farming implements (rakes, forks, carts, etc.). He could also make a host of other useful items, such as shoes and household furniture, as well as putting up farm buildings. Throughout his farming life, Uldéric never used machinery or tractors, or even electricity. Instead, he relied on horses and elbow grease. His example shows us just how many different skills were required to be a farmer in his day.
In her 1981 filmed interview, Marie-Alice Dumont recalls the time she photographed her parents asleep at the dining table. The photographer explained: “After the girls had eaten, [my parents] were talking together. Suddenly, [my mother] fell asleep, [my father saw her], and he fell asleep too. It was the perfect time to take their picture. We cleared the dishes, closed the curtains [and then I took the shot].” Dumont also remembers her parents’ surprise and amusement when they found out. Intrigued by the anecdote, the interviewer asked Dumont if surprises like this happened from time to time, to which the photographer replied with a knowing smile: “Yes, yes.”
In Marie-Alice Dumont’s day, the task of feeding a large family was one faced by many mothers, Marie Pelletier included: she had 12 children who survived into adulthood. In this magnificent portrait, another window into the home life of the Dumonts, Marie is busy preparing a huge batch of bread. Her grandson Origène mimics her, equipped with a small baking pan.
Marie Pelletier seems to have enjoyed carrying out daily tasks from her rocking chair. At least, that is what some of Marie-Alice Dumont’s portraits of her suggest! Here, Marie weaves a straw hat that will come in very handy for herself or her husband Uldéric during the long days spent working outside on the farm.
Uldéric Dumont was a seasoned farmer. He is seen here picking apples on his family’s property on the 5e Rang, in 1925. In the following years, together with his daughter Marie-Alice and son François, he also cultivated a 300-tree orchard of apple and plum trees on the grounds of the new village house. The family made a sizeable income from it.
Another task performed by Marie Pelletier was warping: preparing threads into a warp that is then mounted on the loom. Such work required a great deal of dexterity.
This group portrait illustrates the domestic, even familial, nature of Marie-Alice Dumont’s business. Here, Uldéric, Marie and the photographer stand on the porch of the home that also housed Studio Dumont. In the foreground, we see Marie-Alice Dumont’s younger sister Elizabeth (far right), who would become her assistant in the photography studio.
Although much older than his wife Marie Pelletier (he was 30 when they married; she was 17), Uldéric Dumont outlived his wife by a dozen years (she died in 1932). He is shown here in his coffin, displayed in the living room of his daughter Marie-Alice’s home and studio. As she had cared for her mother, the photographer also cared for her father until his death in 1945. The obituary that appeared in L’Action catholique on October 5, 1945, described Uldéric as follows: “A model farmer and pioneer, Mr. Dumont gave his family and fellow parishioners the example of a life filled with hard work. His piety edified all who knew him. […] after many years of hard work, he had achieved an honest standard of living, and he gave his family of 14 children a suitable education.”
The expression “Death is part of life” was particularly meaningful in Marie-Alice Dumont’s day. It was common practice for parents to live with their children until they died. They often grew old in the care of their loved ones, then died at home. This was the case for Marie Pelletier, shown here bedridden at the end of life, in a room just behind Marie-Alice’s photography studio. While plump throughout her adult life, Marie appears here with an emaciated face. Approaching the end of a difficult battle with cancer lasting many years, she is exhausted and very weak. Berthe, seeing her mother’s suffering, thinks, “She must be looking forward to seeing dear Jesus!” This portrait captures the moment when Marie was ready to make the great journey, crucifix in hand, trusting in God’s grace. The photographer must have had a heavy heart when she took this photo. Berthe knew how well Marie-Alice looked after her mother until the end. Berthe wrote to her: “My dear Alice, you deserve such praise.”
Marie-Alice Dumont grew up surrounded by photography. In the Dumont family, photo albums were passed down from generation to generation. Family members also frequented the Rivière-du-Loup studios, as revealed by the archives of photographers Stanislas Belle and Ulric Lavoie, which include portraits of François, Joseph-Napoléon, Émilia, Anna, Marie-Jeanne and Marie-Louise, all siblings of Marie-Alice. Lavoie’s portrait shows the photographer’s parents and her younger sister Berthe.
From 1920 to 1925, Marie-Alice Dumont was mastering the techniques and craft of photography. During this period of experimentation, she took photos of her loved ones going about their daily activities. The budding photographer could sometimes be a little mischievous, which resulted in some very authentic shots! This is the case with various portraits of her parents dozing off, such as this one of Marie Pelletier, who had fallen asleep while knitting.
Here is another shot Marie-Alice Dumont took of a sleeping parent, this time her father, Uldéric. Although it is hard for us to imagine pioneer life in the 19th and early 20th centuries, we know it was certainly exhausting. Uldéric was only able to go to school long enough to learn his catechism and the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. From an early age, he had to help his parents with farm work. He learned how to make his own farming implements (rakes, forks, carts, etc.). He could also make a host of other useful items, such as shoes and household furniture, as well as putting up farm buildings. Throughout his farming life, Uldéric never used machinery or tractors, or even electricity. Instead, he relied on horses and elbow grease. His example shows us just how many different skills were required to be a farmer in his day.
In her 1981 filmed interview, Marie-Alice Dumont recalls the time she photographed her parents asleep at the dining table. The photographer explained: “After the girls had eaten, [my parents] were talking together. Suddenly, [my mother] fell asleep, [my father saw her], and he fell asleep too. It was the perfect time to take their picture. We cleared the dishes, closed the curtains [and then I took the shot].” Dumont also remembers her parents’ surprise and amusement when they found out. Intrigued by the anecdote, the interviewer asked Dumont if surprises like this happened from time to time, to which the photographer replied with a knowing smile: “Yes, yes.”
In Marie-Alice Dumont’s day, the task of feeding a large family was one faced by many mothers, Marie Pelletier included: she had 12 children who survived into adulthood. In this magnificent portrait, another window into the home life of the Dumonts, Marie is busy preparing a huge batch of bread. Her grandson Origène mimics her, equipped with a small baking pan.
Marie Pelletier seems to have enjoyed carrying out daily tasks from her rocking chair. At least, that is what some of Marie-Alice Dumont’s portraits of her suggest! Here, Marie weaves a straw hat that will come in very handy for herself or her husband Uldéric during the long days spent working outside on the farm.
Uldéric Dumont was a seasoned farmer. He is seen here picking apples on his family’s property on the 5e Rang, in 1925. In the following years, together with his daughter Marie-Alice and son François, he also cultivated a 300-tree orchard of apple and plum trees on the grounds of the new village house. The family made a sizeable income from it.
Another task performed by Marie Pelletier was warping: preparing threads into a warp that is then mounted on the loom. Such work required a great deal of dexterity.
This group portrait illustrates the domestic, even familial, nature of Marie-Alice Dumont’s business. Here, Uldéric, Marie and the photographer stand on the porch of the home that also housed Studio Dumont. In the foreground, we see Marie-Alice Dumont’s younger sister Elizabeth (far right), who would become her assistant in the photography studio.
Although much older than his wife Marie Pelletier (he was 30 when they married; she was 17), Uldéric Dumont outlived his wife by a dozen years (she died in 1932). He is shown here in his coffin, displayed in the living room of his daughter Marie-Alice’s home and studio. As she had cared for her mother, the photographer also cared for her father until his death in 1945. The obituary that appeared in L’Action catholique on October 5, 1945, described Uldéric as follows: “A model farmer and pioneer, Mr. Dumont gave his family and fellow parishioners the example of a life filled with hard work. His piety edified all who knew him. […] after many years of hard work, he had achieved an honest standard of living, and he gave his family of 14 children a suitable education.”
The expression “Death is part of life” was particularly meaningful in Marie-Alice Dumont’s day. It was common practice for parents to live with their children until they died. They often grew old in the care of their loved ones, then died at home. This was the case for Marie Pelletier, shown here bedridden at the end of life, in a room just behind Marie-Alice’s photography studio. While plump throughout her adult life, Marie appears here with an emaciated face. Approaching the end of a difficult battle with cancer lasting many years, she is exhausted and very weak. Berthe, seeing her mother’s suffering, thinks, “She must be looking forward to seeing dear Jesus!” This portrait captures the moment when Marie was ready to make the great journey, crucifix in hand, trusting in God’s grace. The photographer must have had a heavy heart when she took this photo. Berthe knew how well Marie-Alice looked after her mother until the end. Berthe wrote to her: “My dear Alice, you deserve such praise.”
Marie-Alice Dumont grew up surrounded by photography. In the Dumont family, photo albums were passed down from generation to generation. Family members also frequented the Rivière-du-Loup studios, as revealed by the archives of photographers Stanislas Belle and Ulric Lavoie, which include portraits of François, Joseph-Napoléon, Émilia, Anna, Marie-Jeanne and Marie-Louise, all siblings of Marie-Alice. Lavoie’s portrait shows the photographer’s parents and her younger sister Berthe.
From 1920 to 1925, Marie-Alice Dumont was mastering the techniques and craft of photography. During this period of experimentation, she took photos of her loved ones going about their daily activities. The budding photographer could sometimes be a little mischievous, which resulted in some very authentic shots! This is the case with various portraits of her parents dozing off, such as this one of Marie Pelletier, who had fallen asleep while knitting.
Here is another shot Marie-Alice Dumont took of a sleeping parent, this time her father, Uldéric. Although it is hard for us to imagine pioneer life in the 19th and early 20th centuries, we know it was certainly exhausting. Uldéric was only able to go to school long enough to learn his catechism and the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. From an early age, he had to help his parents with farm work. He learned how to make his own farming implements (rakes, forks, carts, etc.). He could also make a host of other useful items, such as shoes and household furniture, as well as putting up farm buildings. Throughout his farming life, Uldéric never used machinery or tractors, or even electricity. Instead, he relied on horses and elbow grease. His example shows us just how many different skills were required to be a farmer in his day.
In her 1981 filmed interview, Marie-Alice Dumont recalls the time she photographed her parents asleep at the dining table. The photographer explained: “After the girls had eaten, [my parents] were talking together. Suddenly, [my mother] fell asleep, [my father saw her], and he fell asleep too. It was the perfect time to take their picture. We cleared the dishes, closed the curtains [and then I took the shot].” Dumont also remembers her parents’ surprise and amusement when they found out. Intrigued by the anecdote, the interviewer asked Dumont if surprises like this happened from time to time, to which the photographer replied with a knowing smile: “Yes, yes.”
In Marie-Alice Dumont’s day, the task of feeding a large family was one faced by many mothers, Marie Pelletier included: she had 12 children who survived into adulthood. In this magnificent portrait, another window into the home life of the Dumonts, Marie is busy preparing a huge batch of bread. Her grandson Origène mimics her, equipped with a small baking pan.
Marie Pelletier seems to have enjoyed carrying out daily tasks from her rocking chair. At least, that is what some of Marie-Alice Dumont’s portraits of her suggest! Here, Marie weaves a straw hat that will come in very handy for herself or her husband Uldéric during the long days spent working outside on the farm.
Uldéric Dumont was a seasoned farmer. He is seen here picking apples on his family’s property on the 5e Rang, in 1925. In the following years, together with his daughter Marie-Alice and son François, he also cultivated a 300-tree orchard of apple and plum trees on the grounds of the new village house. The family made a sizeable income from it.
Another task performed by Marie Pelletier was warping: preparing threads into a warp that is then mounted on the loom. Such work required a great deal of dexterity.
This group portrait illustrates the domestic, even familial, nature of Marie-Alice Dumont’s business. Here, Uldéric, Marie and the photographer stand on the porch of the home that also housed Studio Dumont. In the foreground, we see Marie-Alice Dumont’s younger sister Elizabeth (far right), who would become her assistant in the photography studio.
Although much older than his wife Marie Pelletier (he was 30 when they married; she was 17), Uldéric Dumont outlived his wife by a dozen years (she died in 1932). He is shown here in his coffin, displayed in the living room of his daughter Marie-Alice’s home and studio. As she had cared for her mother, the photographer also cared for her father until his death in 1945. The obituary that appeared in L’Action catholique on October 5, 1945, described Uldéric as follows: “A model farmer and pioneer, Mr. Dumont gave his family and fellow parishioners the example of a life filled with hard work. His piety edified all who knew him. […] after many years of hard work, he had achieved an honest standard of living, and he gave his family of 14 children a suitable education.”
The expression “Death is part of life” was particularly meaningful in Marie-Alice Dumont’s day. It was common practice for parents to live with their children until they died. They often grew old in the care of their loved ones, then died at home. This was the case for Marie Pelletier, shown here bedridden at the end of life, in a room just behind Marie-Alice’s photography studio. While plump throughout her adult life, Marie appears here with an emaciated face. Approaching the end of a difficult battle with cancer lasting many years, she is exhausted and very weak. Berthe, seeing her mother’s suffering, thinks, “She must be looking forward to seeing dear Jesus!” This portrait captures the moment when Marie was ready to make the great journey, crucifix in hand, trusting in God’s grace. The photographer must have had a heavy heart when she took this photo. Berthe knew how well Marie-Alice looked after her mother until the end. Berthe wrote to her: “My dear Alice, you deserve such praise.”
Marie-Alice Dumont grew up surrounded by photography. In the Dumont family, photo albums were passed down from generation to generation. Family members also frequented the Rivière-du-Loup studios, as revealed by the archives of photographers Stanislas Belle and Ulric Lavoie, which include portraits of François, Joseph-Napoléon, Émilia, Anna, Marie-Jeanne and Marie-Louise, all siblings of Marie-Alice. Lavoie’s portrait shows the photographer’s parents and her younger sister Berthe.
From 1920 to 1925, Marie-Alice Dumont was mastering the techniques and craft of photography. During this period of experimentation, she took photos of her loved ones going about their daily activities. The budding photographer could sometimes be a little mischievous, which resulted in some very authentic shots! This is the case with various portraits of her parents dozing off, such as this one of Marie Pelletier, who had fallen asleep while knitting.
Here is another shot Marie-Alice Dumont took of a sleeping parent, this time her father, Uldéric. Although it is hard for us to imagine pioneer life in the 19th and early 20th centuries, we know it was certainly exhausting. Uldéric was only able to go to school long enough to learn his catechism and the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. From an early age, he had to help his parents with farm work. He learned how to make his own farming implements (rakes, forks, carts, etc.). He could also make a host of other useful items, such as shoes and household furniture, as well as putting up farm buildings. Throughout his farming life, Uldéric never used machinery or tractors, or even electricity. Instead, he relied on horses and elbow grease. His example shows us just how many different skills were required to be a farmer in his day.
In her 1981 filmed interview, Marie-Alice Dumont recalls the time she photographed her parents asleep at the dining table. The photographer explained: “After the girls had eaten, [my parents] were talking together. Suddenly, [my mother] fell asleep, [my father saw her], and he fell asleep too. It was the perfect time to take their picture. We cleared the dishes, closed the curtains [and then I took the shot].” Dumont also remembers her parents’ surprise and amusement when they found out. Intrigued by the anecdote, the interviewer asked Dumont if surprises like this happened from time to time, to which the photographer replied with a knowing smile: “Yes, yes.”
In Marie-Alice Dumont’s day, the task of feeding a large family was one faced by many mothers, Marie Pelletier included: she had 12 children who survived into adulthood. In this magnificent portrait, another window into the home life of the Dumonts, Marie is busy preparing a huge batch of bread. Her grandson Origène mimics her, equipped with a small baking pan.
Marie Pelletier seems to have enjoyed carrying out daily tasks from her rocking chair. At least, that is what some of Marie-Alice Dumont’s portraits of her suggest! Here, Marie weaves a straw hat that will come in very handy for herself or her husband Uldéric during the long days spent working outside on the farm.
Uldéric Dumont was a seasoned farmer. He is seen here picking apples on his family’s property on the 5e Rang, in 1925. In the following years, together with his daughter Marie-Alice and son François, he also cultivated a 300-tree orchard of apple and plum trees on the grounds of the new village house. The family made a sizeable income from it.
Another task performed by Marie Pelletier was warping: preparing threads into a warp that is then mounted on the loom. Such work required a great deal of dexterity.
This group portrait illustrates the domestic, even familial, nature of Marie-Alice Dumont’s business. Here, Uldéric, Marie and the photographer stand on the porch of the home that also housed Studio Dumont. In the foreground, we see Marie-Alice Dumont’s younger sister Elizabeth (far right), who would become her assistant in the photography studio.
Although much older than his wife Marie Pelletier (he was 30 when they married; she was 17), Uldéric Dumont outlived his wife by a dozen years (she died in 1932). He is shown here in his coffin, displayed in the living room of his daughter Marie-Alice’s home and studio. As she had cared for her mother, the photographer also cared for her father until his death in 1945. The obituary that appeared in L’Action catholique on October 5, 1945, described Uldéric as follows: “A model farmer and pioneer, Mr. Dumont gave his family and fellow parishioners the example of a life filled with hard work. His piety edified all who knew him. […] after many years of hard work, he had achieved an honest standard of living, and he gave his family of 14 children a suitable education.”
The expression “Death is part of life” was particularly meaningful in Marie-Alice Dumont’s day. It was common practice for parents to live with their children until they died. They often grew old in the care of their loved ones, then died at home. This was the case for Marie Pelletier, shown here bedridden at the end of life, in a room just behind Marie-Alice’s photography studio. While plump throughout her adult life, Marie appears here with an emaciated face. Approaching the end of a difficult battle with cancer lasting many years, she is exhausted and very weak. Berthe, seeing her mother’s suffering, thinks, “She must be looking forward to seeing dear Jesus!” This portrait captures the moment when Marie was ready to make the great journey, crucifix in hand, trusting in God’s grace. The photographer must have had a heavy heart when she took this photo. Berthe knew how well Marie-Alice looked after her mother until the end. Berthe wrote to her: “My dear Alice, you deserve such praise.”
Marie-Alice Dumont grew up surrounded by photography. In the Dumont family, photo albums were passed down from generation to generation. Family members also frequented the Rivière-du-Loup studios, as revealed by the archives of photographers Stanislas Belle and Ulric Lavoie, which include portraits of François, Joseph-Napoléon, Émilia, Anna, Marie-Jeanne and Marie-Louise, all siblings of Marie-Alice. Lavoie’s portrait shows the photographer’s parents and her younger sister Berthe.
From 1920 to 1925, Marie-Alice Dumont was mastering the techniques and craft of photography. During this period of experimentation, she took photos of her loved ones going about their daily activities. The budding photographer could sometimes be a little mischievous, which resulted in some very authentic shots! This is the case with various portraits of her parents dozing off, such as this one of Marie Pelletier, who had fallen asleep while knitting.
Here is another shot Marie-Alice Dumont took of a sleeping parent, this time her father, Uldéric. Although it is hard for us to imagine pioneer life in the 19th and early 20th centuries, we know it was certainly exhausting. Uldéric was only able to go to school long enough to learn his catechism and the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. From an early age, he had to help his parents with farm work. He learned how to make his own farming implements (rakes, forks, carts, etc.). He could also make a host of other useful items, such as shoes and household furniture, as well as putting up farm buildings. Throughout his farming life, Uldéric never used machinery or tractors, or even electricity. Instead, he relied on horses and elbow grease. His example shows us just how many different skills were required to be a farmer in his day.
In her 1981 filmed interview, Marie-Alice Dumont recalls the time she photographed her parents asleep at the dining table. The photographer explained: “After the girls had eaten, [my parents] were talking together. Suddenly, [my mother] fell asleep, [my father saw her], and he fell asleep too. It was the perfect time to take their picture. We cleared the dishes, closed the curtains [and then I took the shot].” Dumont also remembers her parents’ surprise and amusement when they found out. Intrigued by the anecdote, the interviewer asked Dumont if surprises like this happened from time to time, to which the photographer replied with a knowing smile: “Yes, yes.”
In Marie-Alice Dumont’s day, the task of feeding a large family was one faced by many mothers, Marie Pelletier included: she had 12 children who survived into adulthood. In this magnificent portrait, another window into the home life of the Dumonts, Marie is busy preparing a huge batch of bread. Her grandson Origène mimics her, equipped with a small baking pan.
Marie Pelletier seems to have enjoyed carrying out daily tasks from her rocking chair. At least, that is what some of Marie-Alice Dumont’s portraits of her suggest! Here, Marie weaves a straw hat that will come in very handy for herself or her husband Uldéric during the long days spent working outside on the farm.
Uldéric Dumont was a seasoned farmer. He is seen here picking apples on his family’s property on the 5e Rang, in 1925. In the following years, together with his daughter Marie-Alice and son François, he also cultivated a 300-tree orchard of apple and plum trees on the grounds of the new village house. The family made a sizeable income from it.
Another task performed by Marie Pelletier was warping: preparing threads into a warp that is then mounted on the loom. Such work required a great deal of dexterity.
This group portrait illustrates the domestic, even familial, nature of Marie-Alice Dumont’s business. Here, Uldéric, Marie and the photographer stand on the porch of the home that also housed Studio Dumont. In the foreground, we see Marie-Alice Dumont’s younger sister Elizabeth (far right), who would become her assistant in the photography studio.
Although much older than his wife Marie Pelletier (he was 30 when they married; she was 17), Uldéric Dumont outlived his wife by a dozen years (she died in 1932). He is shown here in his coffin, displayed in the living room of his daughter Marie-Alice’s home and studio. As she had cared for her mother, the photographer also cared for her father until his death in 1945. The obituary that appeared in L’Action catholique on October 5, 1945, described Uldéric as follows: “A model farmer and pioneer, Mr. Dumont gave his family and fellow parishioners the example of a life filled with hard work. His piety edified all who knew him. […] after many years of hard work, he had achieved an honest standard of living, and he gave his family of 14 children a suitable education.”
The expression “Death is part of life” was particularly meaningful in Marie-Alice Dumont’s day. It was common practice for parents to live with their children until they died. They often grew old in the care of their loved ones, then died at home. This was the case for Marie Pelletier, shown here bedridden at the end of life, in a room just behind Marie-Alice’s photography studio. While plump throughout her adult life, Marie appears here with an emaciated face. Approaching the end of a difficult battle with cancer lasting many years, she is exhausted and very weak. Berthe, seeing her mother’s suffering, thinks, “She must be looking forward to seeing dear Jesus!” This portrait captures the moment when Marie was ready to make the great journey, crucifix in hand, trusting in God’s grace. The photographer must have had a heavy heart when she took this photo. Berthe knew how well Marie-Alice looked after her mother until the end. Berthe wrote to her: “My dear Alice, you deserve such praise.”
Marie-Alice Dumont grew up surrounded by photography. In the Dumont family, photo albums were passed down from generation to generation. Family members also frequented the Rivière-du-Loup studios, as revealed by the archives of photographers Stanislas Belle and Ulric Lavoie, which include portraits of François, Joseph-Napoléon, Émilia, Anna, Marie-Jeanne and Marie-Louise, all siblings of Marie-Alice. Lavoie’s portrait shows the photographer’s parents and her younger sister Berthe.
From 1920 to 1925, Marie-Alice Dumont was mastering the techniques and craft of photography. During this period of experimentation, she took photos of her loved ones going about their daily activities. The budding photographer could sometimes be a little mischievous, which resulted in some very authentic shots! This is the case with various portraits of her parents dozing off, such as this one of Marie Pelletier, who had fallen asleep while knitting.
Here is another shot Marie-Alice Dumont took of a sleeping parent, this time her father, Uldéric. Although it is hard for us to imagine pioneer life in the 19th and early 20th centuries, we know it was certainly exhausting. Uldéric was only able to go to school long enough to learn his catechism and the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. From an early age, he had to help his parents with farm work. He learned how to make his own farming implements (rakes, forks, carts, etc.). He could also make a host of other useful items, such as shoes and household furniture, as well as putting up farm buildings. Throughout his farming life, Uldéric never used machinery or tractors, or even electricity. Instead, he relied on horses and elbow grease. His example shows us just how many different skills were required to be a farmer in his day.
In her 1981 filmed interview, Marie-Alice Dumont recalls the time she photographed her parents asleep at the dining table. The photographer explained: “After the girls had eaten, [my parents] were talking together. Suddenly, [my mother] fell asleep, [my father saw her], and he fell asleep too. It was the perfect time to take their picture. We cleared the dishes, closed the curtains [and then I took the shot].” Dumont also remembers her parents’ surprise and amusement when they found out. Intrigued by the anecdote, the interviewer asked Dumont if surprises like this happened from time to time, to which the photographer replied with a knowing smile: “Yes, yes.”
In Marie-Alice Dumont’s day, the task of feeding a large family was one faced by many mothers, Marie Pelletier included: she had 12 children who survived into adulthood. In this magnificent portrait, another window into the home life of the Dumonts, Marie is busy preparing a huge batch of bread. Her grandson Origène mimics her, equipped with a small baking pan.
Marie Pelletier seems to have enjoyed carrying out daily tasks from her rocking chair. At least, that is what some of Marie-Alice Dumont’s portraits of her suggest! Here, Marie weaves a straw hat that will come in very handy for herself or her husband Uldéric during the long days spent working outside on the farm.
Uldéric Dumont was a seasoned farmer. He is seen here picking apples on his family’s property on the 5e Rang, in 1925. In the following years, together with his daughter Marie-Alice and son François, he also cultivated a 300-tree orchard of apple and plum trees on the grounds of the new village house. The family made a sizeable income from it.
Another task performed by Marie Pelletier was warping: preparing threads into a warp that is then mounted on the loom. Such work required a great deal of dexterity.
This group portrait illustrates the domestic, even familial, nature of Marie-Alice Dumont’s business. Here, Uldéric, Marie and the photographer stand on the porch of the home that also housed Studio Dumont. In the foreground, we see Marie-Alice Dumont’s younger sister Elizabeth (far right), who would become her assistant in the photography studio.
Although much older than his wife Marie Pelletier (he was 30 when they married; she was 17), Uldéric Dumont outlived his wife by a dozen years (she died in 1932). He is shown here in his coffin, displayed in the living room of his daughter Marie-Alice’s home and studio. As she had cared for her mother, the photographer also cared for her father until his death in 1945. The obituary that appeared in L’Action catholique on October 5, 1945, described Uldéric as follows: “A model farmer and pioneer, Mr. Dumont gave his family and fellow parishioners the example of a life filled with hard work. His piety edified all who knew him. […] after many years of hard work, he had achieved an honest standard of living, and he gave his family of 14 children a suitable education.”
The expression “Death is part of life” was particularly meaningful in Marie-Alice Dumont’s day. It was common practice for parents to live with their children until they died. They often grew old in the care of their loved ones, then died at home. This was the case for Marie Pelletier, shown here bedridden at the end of life, in a room just behind Marie-Alice’s photography studio. While plump throughout her adult life, Marie appears here with an emaciated face. Approaching the end of a difficult battle with cancer lasting many years, she is exhausted and very weak. Berthe, seeing her mother’s suffering, thinks, “She must be looking forward to seeing dear Jesus!” This portrait captures the moment when Marie was ready to make the great journey, crucifix in hand, trusting in God’s grace. The photographer must have had a heavy heart when she took this photo. Berthe knew how well Marie-Alice looked after her mother until the end. Berthe wrote to her: “My dear Alice, you deserve such praise.”
Marie-Alice Dumont grew up surrounded by photography. In the Dumont family, photo albums were passed down from generation to generation. Family members also frequented the Rivière-du-Loup studios, as revealed by the archives of photographers Stanislas Belle and Ulric Lavoie, which include portraits of François, Joseph-Napoléon, Émilia, Anna, Marie-Jeanne and Marie-Louise, all siblings of Marie-Alice. Lavoie’s portrait shows the photographer’s parents and her younger sister Berthe.
From 1920 to 1925, Marie-Alice Dumont was mastering the techniques and craft of photography. During this period of experimentation, she took photos of her loved ones going about their daily activities. The budding photographer could sometimes be a little mischievous, which resulted in some very authentic shots! This is the case with various portraits of her parents dozing off, such as this one of Marie Pelletier, who had fallen asleep while knitting.
Here is another shot Marie-Alice Dumont took of a sleeping parent, this time her father, Uldéric. Although it is hard for us to imagine pioneer life in the 19th and early 20th centuries, we know it was certainly exhausting. Uldéric was only able to go to school long enough to learn his catechism and the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. From an early age, he had to help his parents with farm work. He learned how to make his own farming implements (rakes, forks, carts, etc.). He could also make a host of other useful items, such as shoes and household furniture, as well as putting up farm buildings. Throughout his farming life, Uldéric never used machinery or tractors, or even electricity. Instead, he relied on horses and elbow grease. His example shows us just how many different skills were required to be a farmer in his day.
In her 1981 filmed interview, Marie-Alice Dumont recalls the time she photographed her parents asleep at the dining table. The photographer explained: “After the girls had eaten, [my parents] were talking together. Suddenly, [my mother] fell asleep, [my father saw her], and he fell asleep too. It was the perfect time to take their picture. We cleared the dishes, closed the curtains [and then I took the shot].” Dumont also remembers her parents’ surprise and amusement when they found out. Intrigued by the anecdote, the interviewer asked Dumont if surprises like this happened from time to time, to which the photographer replied with a knowing smile: “Yes, yes.”
In Marie-Alice Dumont’s day, the task of feeding a large family was one faced by many mothers, Marie Pelletier included: she had 12 children who survived into adulthood. In this magnificent portrait, another window into the home life of the Dumonts, Marie is busy preparing a huge batch of bread. Her grandson Origène mimics her, equipped with a small baking pan.
Marie Pelletier seems to have enjoyed carrying out daily tasks from her rocking chair. At least, that is what some of Marie-Alice Dumont’s portraits of her suggest! Here, Marie weaves a straw hat that will come in very handy for herself or her husband Uldéric during the long days spent working outside on the farm.
Uldéric Dumont was a seasoned farmer. He is seen here picking apples on his family’s property on the 5e Rang, in 1925. In the following years, together with his daughter Marie-Alice and son François, he also cultivated a 300-tree orchard of apple and plum trees on the grounds of the new village house. The family made a sizeable income from it.
Another task performed by Marie Pelletier was warping: preparing threads into a warp that is then mounted on the loom. Such work required a great deal of dexterity.
This group portrait illustrates the domestic, even familial, nature of Marie-Alice Dumont’s business. Here, Uldéric, Marie and the photographer stand on the porch of the home that also housed Studio Dumont. In the foreground, we see Marie-Alice Dumont’s younger sister Elizabeth (far right), who would become her assistant in the photography studio.
Although much older than his wife Marie Pelletier (he was 30 when they married; she was 17), Uldéric Dumont outlived his wife by a dozen years (she died in 1932). He is shown here in his coffin, displayed in the living room of his daughter Marie-Alice’s home and studio. As she had cared for her mother, the photographer also cared for her father until his death in 1945. The obituary that appeared in L’Action catholique on October 5, 1945, described Uldéric as follows: “A model farmer and pioneer, Mr. Dumont gave his family and fellow parishioners the example of a life filled with hard work. His piety edified all who knew him. […] after many years of hard work, he had achieved an honest standard of living, and he gave his family of 14 children a suitable education.”
The expression “Death is part of life” was particularly meaningful in Marie-Alice Dumont’s day. It was common practice for parents to live with their children until they died. They often grew old in the care of their loved ones, then died at home. This was the case for Marie Pelletier, shown here bedridden at the end of life, in a room just behind Marie-Alice’s photography studio. While plump throughout her adult life, Marie appears here with an emaciated face. Approaching the end of a difficult battle with cancer lasting many years, she is exhausted and very weak. Berthe, seeing her mother’s suffering, thinks, “She must be looking forward to seeing dear Jesus!” This portrait captures the moment when Marie was ready to make the great journey, crucifix in hand, trusting in God’s grace. The photographer must have had a heavy heart when she took this photo. Berthe knew how well Marie-Alice looked after her mother until the end. Berthe wrote to her: “My dear Alice, you deserve such praise.”
Marie-Alice Dumont grew up surrounded by photography. In the Dumont family, photo albums were passed down from generation to generation. Family members also frequented the Rivière-du-Loup studios, as revealed by the archives of photographers Stanislas Belle and Ulric Lavoie, which include portraits of François, Joseph-Napoléon, Émilia, Anna, Marie-Jeanne and Marie-Louise, all siblings of Marie-Alice. Lavoie’s portrait shows the photographer’s parents and her younger sister Berthe.
From 1920 to 1925, Marie-Alice Dumont was mastering the techniques and craft of photography. During this period of experimentation, she took photos of her loved ones going about their daily activities. The budding photographer could sometimes be a little mischievous, which resulted in some very authentic shots! This is the case with various portraits of her parents dozing off, such as this one of Marie Pelletier, who had fallen asleep while knitting.
Here is another shot Marie-Alice Dumont took of a sleeping parent, this time her father, Uldéric. Although it is hard for us to imagine pioneer life in the 19th and early 20th centuries, we know it was certainly exhausting. Uldéric was only able to go to school long enough to learn his catechism and the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. From an early age, he had to help his parents with farm work. He learned how to make his own farming implements (rakes, forks, carts, etc.). He could also make a host of other useful items, such as shoes and household furniture, as well as putting up farm buildings. Throughout his farming life, Uldéric never used machinery or tractors, or even electricity. Instead, he relied on horses and elbow grease. His example shows us just how many different skills were required to be a farmer in his day.
In her 1981 filmed interview, Marie-Alice Dumont recalls the time she photographed her parents asleep at the dining table. The photographer explained: “After the girls had eaten, [my parents] were talking together. Suddenly, [my mother] fell asleep, [my father saw her], and he fell asleep too. It was the perfect time to take their picture. We cleared the dishes, closed the curtains [and then I took the shot].” Dumont also remembers her parents’ surprise and amusement when they found out. Intrigued by the anecdote, the interviewer asked Dumont if surprises like this happened from time to time, to which the photographer replied with a knowing smile: “Yes, yes.”
In Marie-Alice Dumont’s day, the task of feeding a large family was one faced by many mothers, Marie Pelletier included: she had 12 children who survived into adulthood. In this magnificent portrait, another window into the home life of the Dumonts, Marie is busy preparing a huge batch of bread. Her grandson Origène mimics her, equipped with a small baking pan.
Marie Pelletier seems to have enjoyed carrying out daily tasks from her rocking chair. At least, that is what some of Marie-Alice Dumont’s portraits of her suggest! Here, Marie weaves a straw hat that will come in very handy for herself or her husband Uldéric during the long days spent working outside on the farm.
Uldéric Dumont was a seasoned farmer. He is seen here picking apples on his family’s property on the 5e Rang, in 1925. In the following years, together with his daughter Marie-Alice and son François, he also cultivated a 300-tree orchard of apple and plum trees on the grounds of the new village house. The family made a sizeable income from it.
Another task performed by Marie Pelletier was warping: preparing threads into a warp that is then mounted on the loom. Such work required a great deal of dexterity.
This group portrait illustrates the domestic, even familial, nature of Marie-Alice Dumont’s business. Here, Uldéric, Marie and the photographer stand on the porch of the home that also housed Studio Dumont. In the foreground, we see Marie-Alice Dumont’s younger sister Elizabeth (far right), who would become her assistant in the photography studio.
Although much older than his wife Marie Pelletier (he was 30 when they married; she was 17), Uldéric Dumont outlived his wife by a dozen years (she died in 1932). He is shown here in his coffin, displayed in the living room of his daughter Marie-Alice’s home and studio. As she had cared for her mother, the photographer also cared for her father until his death in 1945. The obituary that appeared in L’Action catholique on October 5, 1945, described Uldéric as follows: “A model farmer and pioneer, Mr. Dumont gave his family and fellow parishioners the example of a life filled with hard work. His piety edified all who knew him. […] after many years of hard work, he had achieved an honest standard of living, and he gave his family of 14 children a suitable education.”
The expression “Death is part of life” was particularly meaningful in Marie-Alice Dumont’s day. It was common practice for parents to live with their children until they died. They often grew old in the care of their loved ones, then died at home. This was the case for Marie Pelletier, shown here bedridden at the end of life, in a room just behind Marie-Alice’s photography studio. While plump throughout her adult life, Marie appears here with an emaciated face. Approaching the end of a difficult battle with cancer lasting many years, she is exhausted and very weak. Berthe, seeing her mother’s suffering, thinks, “She must be looking forward to seeing dear Jesus!” This portrait captures the moment when Marie was ready to make the great journey, crucifix in hand, trusting in God’s grace. The photographer must have had a heavy heart when she took this photo. Berthe knew how well Marie-Alice looked after her mother until the end. Berthe wrote to her: “My dear Alice, you deserve such praise.”
In addition to her parents, Marie-Alice Dumont’s sisters were also some of her most frequent subjects. Many of them appear in her photos, allowing us to see them grow and change over the years. Here are a few who held a special place in Marie-Alice’s heart: Elizabeth, Marie-Louise, Berthe and Emilia.
Elizabeth poses here in the rudimentary setting of the first studio set up by her sister Marie-Alice Dumont in the family home. She is around 15 years old.
Elizabeth was probably the most photographed of Marie-Alice’s sisters. Known by the family as “Zelta,” she helped her older sister at the photography studio for many years.
Marie-Louise, like many members of her family, gave Marie-Alice the opportunity to practise by posing for her in her first photo studio. Aged around 30 in this portrait, Marie-Louise is at a stage in her short life when she needs her crutches at all times.
Except for her few years working as a schoolhouse teacher, Marie-Louise always lived with Marie-Alice. She died from illness at only 31. The portraits Marie-Alice took of her are some of the most poignant in her entire collection. In the earlier photos, Marie-Louise can be seen standing, but we soon see her sitting—or, as in this one, using crutches. Later portraits capture the heartbreaking fragility of her condition and the quiet strength with which she endured her hip deformity in the final years of her short life.
The youngest Dumont child poses here on the side staircase of her sister Marie-Alice’s home and studio. She is between 25 and 30 years old, and she had taken her vows as a Sister of Charity some 10 years earlier. In a letter dated May 21, 1928, at the age of 18 or 19, Berthe wrote to her parents with great emotion that she would be taking her perpetual vows on July 16. After all the “sacrifices” she and her parents had had to make to “reach this point,” she was delighted to finally become “the Bride of the great God we adore.” She wrote that she had no regrets, and that she had “freely and willingly” decided to devote her life “to Our Lord.”
Marie-Alice played a key role in Berthe’s upbringing, teaching her for two years and preparing her for her first communion. She also encouraged Berthe to join the Sisters of Charity of Québec City. When Berthe became Sister Sainte-Marie-Anne, it was almost as if she was fulfilling the dream Marie-Alice had once had of becoming a nun herself.
Émilia, the Dumont family’s eldest daughter and second-born after François, married Flavius Ouellet (1878–1961) in 1906, when she was 18 and he was 27. When this portrait was taken in Marie-Alice Dumont’s first small studio, they were aged around 40 and 50, respectively. They had been married for almost 20 years and already had 12 children together… with three more to come!
In the summer, Marie-Alice often visited her older sister Emilia at her home on Patins Island, off Kamouraska. Many photographs capture these joyful moments spent outdoors with her sister and brother-in-law, Flavius Ouellet. But what truly stands out is the photographer’s pure delight in being surrounded by her nieces and nephews.
In this portrait of Elizabeth aged around 18, we see that she is able to use the spinning wheel, and therefore could contribute to making clothing. This was a crucial skill for large farming families in the early 20th century, many of whom had to be resourceful and thrifty. The Dumonts’ mother, Marie, was a gifted craftswoman, and, as we can see from portraits like this one, she probably passed on much of her know-how to her daughters.
In this candid-like portrait, Émilia Dumont is busy hooking a rug. She is comfortably installed on the porch of her home on the Île aux Patins. Marie-Alice Dumont probably took the photo during one of her vacations on the island.
After Elizabeth at the spinning wheel and Émilia hooking a rug, here is Marie-Louise at the loom. And, of course, there are many similar portraits of their mother! Marie-Alice Dumont paid a great deal of attention to the women of the family and their technical skills.
Among the three girls posed here on the porch of the Dumont house is Elizabeth, far right, wearing glasses. She was already acting as an assistant to her older sister, as Marie-Alice had just recently opened her studio in the family home. The studio sign is clearly visible in this portrait.
The title of this portrait of Elizabeth reveals what was probably her family nickname: Zelta. She is posing once again for her sister, who recently set up her studio in the village of Saint-Alexandre. Zelta, fashionably dressed, takes on a confident air and looks directly at the lens. In keeping with the staging often adopted by women in Dumont’s studio, she pretends to be interrupted while reading a book.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Louise suffered a fall at the age of one, which caused health problems for the rest of her life. She is often photographed with crutches, as in this portrait taken in a kitchen; one of the most touching photographs by Marie-Alice Dumont. Despite the challenges, Marie-Louise worked as a schoolteacher in the Saint-Alexandre district for 10 years. It probably took great strength of character to achieve this.
Here, the Dumont siblings are gathered in front of what appears to be the home of the eldest, François, on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. What is the occasion? Perhaps a visit from Berthe (Sister Sainte-Marie-Anne), who was rarely able to visit her relatives during her life as a nun. From left to right, we can see François, Berthe, Albertine, Émilia, Anna, Joseph-Napoléon, Marie-Claire, Marie-Jeanne, Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Missing are Marie-Louise, who had died over 20 years prior, and Gabrielle.
This is another portrait of Berthe, the youngest of the Dumont siblings, between the ages of 25 and 30. In her nun’s garb, she is posing this time in her sister’s photography studio during one of her rare visits. After entering the convent at the age of 17, Berthe saw very little of her family. She spent most of her time teaching at the Sisters of Charity convent at the Saint-Alphonse de Thetford church. She sometimes complained about this in her letters to her parents.
Marie-Louise Dumont did not have an easy life, especially during her final months, when she was bedridden and unable to move. As she would do five years later for her mother, Marie-Alice Dumont photographed her younger sister in bed, dying, cross in hand. Marie-Louise died “piously” on August 8, aged 31 years and 10 months, as reported by Le Peuple, a Montmagny newspaper. A “large crowd of friends and family” attended her funeral on August 12.
In this portrait of Elizabeth aged around 18, we see that she is able to use the spinning wheel, and therefore could contribute to making clothing. This was a crucial skill for large farming families in the early 20th century, many of whom had to be resourceful and thrifty. The Dumonts’ mother, Marie, was a gifted craftswoman, and, as we can see from portraits like this one, she probably passed on much of her know-how to her daughters.
In this candid-like portrait, Émilia Dumont is busy hooking a rug. She is comfortably installed on the porch of her home on the Île aux Patins. Marie-Alice Dumont probably took the photo during one of her vacations on the island.
After Elizabeth at the spinning wheel and Émilia hooking a rug, here is Marie-Louise at the loom. And, of course, there are many similar portraits of their mother! Marie-Alice Dumont paid a great deal of attention to the women of the family and their technical skills.
Among the three girls posed here on the porch of the Dumont house is Elizabeth, far right, wearing glasses. She was already acting as an assistant to her older sister, as Marie-Alice had just recently opened her studio in the family home. The studio sign is clearly visible in this portrait.
The title of this portrait of Elizabeth reveals what was probably her family nickname: Zelta. She is posing once again for her sister, who recently set up her studio in the village of Saint-Alexandre. Zelta, fashionably dressed, takes on a confident air and looks directly at the lens. In keeping with the staging often adopted by women in Dumont’s studio, she pretends to be interrupted while reading a book.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Louise suffered a fall at the age of one, which caused health problems for the rest of her life. She is often photographed with crutches, as in this portrait taken in a kitchen; one of the most touching photographs by Marie-Alice Dumont. Despite the challenges, Marie-Louise worked as a schoolteacher in the Saint-Alexandre district for 10 years. It probably took great strength of character to achieve this.
Here, the Dumont siblings are gathered in front of what appears to be the home of the eldest, François, on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. What is the occasion? Perhaps a visit from Berthe (Sister Sainte-Marie-Anne), who was rarely able to visit her relatives during her life as a nun. From left to right, we can see François, Berthe, Albertine, Émilia, Anna, Joseph-Napoléon, Marie-Claire, Marie-Jeanne, Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Missing are Marie-Louise, who had died over 20 years prior, and Gabrielle.
This is another portrait of Berthe, the youngest of the Dumont siblings, between the ages of 25 and 30. In her nun’s garb, she is posing this time in her sister’s photography studio during one of her rare visits. After entering the convent at the age of 17, Berthe saw very little of her family. She spent most of her time teaching at the Sisters of Charity convent at the Saint-Alphonse de Thetford church. She sometimes complained about this in her letters to her parents.
Marie-Louise Dumont did not have an easy life, especially during her final months, when she was bedridden and unable to move. As she would do five years later for her mother, Marie-Alice Dumont photographed her younger sister in bed, dying, cross in hand. Marie-Louise died “piously” on August 8, aged 31 years and 10 months, as reported by Le Peuple, a Montmagny newspaper. A “large crowd of friends and family” attended her funeral on August 12.
In this portrait of Elizabeth aged around 18, we see that she is able to use the spinning wheel, and therefore could contribute to making clothing. This was a crucial skill for large farming families in the early 20th century, many of whom had to be resourceful and thrifty. The Dumonts’ mother, Marie, was a gifted craftswoman, and, as we can see from portraits like this one, she probably passed on much of her know-how to her daughters.
In this candid-like portrait, Émilia Dumont is busy hooking a rug. She is comfortably installed on the porch of her home on the Île aux Patins. Marie-Alice Dumont probably took the photo during one of her vacations on the island.
After Elizabeth at the spinning wheel and Émilia hooking a rug, here is Marie-Louise at the loom. And, of course, there are many similar portraits of their mother! Marie-Alice Dumont paid a great deal of attention to the women of the family and their technical skills.
Among the three girls posed here on the porch of the Dumont house is Elizabeth, far right, wearing glasses. She was already acting as an assistant to her older sister, as Marie-Alice had just recently opened her studio in the family home. The studio sign is clearly visible in this portrait.
The title of this portrait of Elizabeth reveals what was probably her family nickname: Zelta. She is posing once again for her sister, who recently set up her studio in the village of Saint-Alexandre. Zelta, fashionably dressed, takes on a confident air and looks directly at the lens. In keeping with the staging often adopted by women in Dumont’s studio, she pretends to be interrupted while reading a book.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Louise suffered a fall at the age of one, which caused health problems for the rest of her life. She is often photographed with crutches, as in this portrait taken in a kitchen; one of the most touching photographs by Marie-Alice Dumont. Despite the challenges, Marie-Louise worked as a schoolteacher in the Saint-Alexandre district for 10 years. It probably took great strength of character to achieve this.
Here, the Dumont siblings are gathered in front of what appears to be the home of the eldest, François, on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. What is the occasion? Perhaps a visit from Berthe (Sister Sainte-Marie-Anne), who was rarely able to visit her relatives during her life as a nun. From left to right, we can see François, Berthe, Albertine, Émilia, Anna, Joseph-Napoléon, Marie-Claire, Marie-Jeanne, Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Missing are Marie-Louise, who had died over 20 years prior, and Gabrielle.
This is another portrait of Berthe, the youngest of the Dumont siblings, between the ages of 25 and 30. In her nun’s garb, she is posing this time in her sister’s photography studio during one of her rare visits. After entering the convent at the age of 17, Berthe saw very little of her family. She spent most of her time teaching at the Sisters of Charity convent at the Saint-Alphonse de Thetford church. She sometimes complained about this in her letters to her parents.
Marie-Louise Dumont did not have an easy life, especially during her final months, when she was bedridden and unable to move. As she would do five years later for her mother, Marie-Alice Dumont photographed her younger sister in bed, dying, cross in hand. Marie-Louise died “piously” on August 8, aged 31 years and 10 months, as reported by Le Peuple, a Montmagny newspaper. A “large crowd of friends and family” attended her funeral on August 12.
In this portrait of Elizabeth aged around 18, we see that she is able to use the spinning wheel, and therefore could contribute to making clothing. This was a crucial skill for large farming families in the early 20th century, many of whom had to be resourceful and thrifty. The Dumonts’ mother, Marie, was a gifted craftswoman, and, as we can see from portraits like this one, she probably passed on much of her know-how to her daughters.
In this candid-like portrait, Émilia Dumont is busy hooking a rug. She is comfortably installed on the porch of her home on the Île aux Patins. Marie-Alice Dumont probably took the photo during one of her vacations on the island.
After Elizabeth at the spinning wheel and Émilia hooking a rug, here is Marie-Louise at the loom. And, of course, there are many similar portraits of their mother! Marie-Alice Dumont paid a great deal of attention to the women of the family and their technical skills.
Among the three girls posed here on the porch of the Dumont house is Elizabeth, far right, wearing glasses. She was already acting as an assistant to her older sister, as Marie-Alice had just recently opened her studio in the family home. The studio sign is clearly visible in this portrait.
The title of this portrait of Elizabeth reveals what was probably her family nickname: Zelta. She is posing once again for her sister, who recently set up her studio in the village of Saint-Alexandre. Zelta, fashionably dressed, takes on a confident air and looks directly at the lens. In keeping with the staging often adopted by women in Dumont’s studio, she pretends to be interrupted while reading a book.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Louise suffered a fall at the age of one, which caused health problems for the rest of her life. She is often photographed with crutches, as in this portrait taken in a kitchen; one of the most touching photographs by Marie-Alice Dumont. Despite the challenges, Marie-Louise worked as a schoolteacher in the Saint-Alexandre district for 10 years. It probably took great strength of character to achieve this.
Here, the Dumont siblings are gathered in front of what appears to be the home of the eldest, François, on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. What is the occasion? Perhaps a visit from Berthe (Sister Sainte-Marie-Anne), who was rarely able to visit her relatives during her life as a nun. From left to right, we can see François, Berthe, Albertine, Émilia, Anna, Joseph-Napoléon, Marie-Claire, Marie-Jeanne, Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Missing are Marie-Louise, who had died over 20 years prior, and Gabrielle.
This is another portrait of Berthe, the youngest of the Dumont siblings, between the ages of 25 and 30. In her nun’s garb, she is posing this time in her sister’s photography studio during one of her rare visits. After entering the convent at the age of 17, Berthe saw very little of her family. She spent most of her time teaching at the Sisters of Charity convent at the Saint-Alphonse de Thetford church. She sometimes complained about this in her letters to her parents.
Marie-Louise Dumont did not have an easy life, especially during her final months, when she was bedridden and unable to move. As she would do five years later for her mother, Marie-Alice Dumont photographed her younger sister in bed, dying, cross in hand. Marie-Louise died “piously” on August 8, aged 31 years and 10 months, as reported by Le Peuple, a Montmagny newspaper. A “large crowd of friends and family” attended her funeral on August 12.
In this portrait of Elizabeth aged around 18, we see that she is able to use the spinning wheel, and therefore could contribute to making clothing. This was a crucial skill for large farming families in the early 20th century, many of whom had to be resourceful and thrifty. The Dumonts’ mother, Marie, was a gifted craftswoman, and, as we can see from portraits like this one, she probably passed on much of her know-how to her daughters.
In this candid-like portrait, Émilia Dumont is busy hooking a rug. She is comfortably installed on the porch of her home on the Île aux Patins. Marie-Alice Dumont probably took the photo during one of her vacations on the island.
After Elizabeth at the spinning wheel and Émilia hooking a rug, here is Marie-Louise at the loom. And, of course, there are many similar portraits of their mother! Marie-Alice Dumont paid a great deal of attention to the women of the family and their technical skills.
Among the three girls posed here on the porch of the Dumont house is Elizabeth, far right, wearing glasses. She was already acting as an assistant to her older sister, as Marie-Alice had just recently opened her studio in the family home. The studio sign is clearly visible in this portrait.
The title of this portrait of Elizabeth reveals what was probably her family nickname: Zelta. She is posing once again for her sister, who recently set up her studio in the village of Saint-Alexandre. Zelta, fashionably dressed, takes on a confident air and looks directly at the lens. In keeping with the staging often adopted by women in Dumont’s studio, she pretends to be interrupted while reading a book.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Louise suffered a fall at the age of one, which caused health problems for the rest of her life. She is often photographed with crutches, as in this portrait taken in a kitchen; one of the most touching photographs by Marie-Alice Dumont. Despite the challenges, Marie-Louise worked as a schoolteacher in the Saint-Alexandre district for 10 years. It probably took great strength of character to achieve this.
Here, the Dumont siblings are gathered in front of what appears to be the home of the eldest, François, on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. What is the occasion? Perhaps a visit from Berthe (Sister Sainte-Marie-Anne), who was rarely able to visit her relatives during her life as a nun. From left to right, we can see François, Berthe, Albertine, Émilia, Anna, Joseph-Napoléon, Marie-Claire, Marie-Jeanne, Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Missing are Marie-Louise, who had died over 20 years prior, and Gabrielle.
This is another portrait of Berthe, the youngest of the Dumont siblings, between the ages of 25 and 30. In her nun’s garb, she is posing this time in her sister’s photography studio during one of her rare visits. After entering the convent at the age of 17, Berthe saw very little of her family. She spent most of her time teaching at the Sisters of Charity convent at the Saint-Alphonse de Thetford church. She sometimes complained about this in her letters to her parents.
Marie-Louise Dumont did not have an easy life, especially during her final months, when she was bedridden and unable to move. As she would do five years later for her mother, Marie-Alice Dumont photographed her younger sister in bed, dying, cross in hand. Marie-Louise died “piously” on August 8, aged 31 years and 10 months, as reported by Le Peuple, a Montmagny newspaper. A “large crowd of friends and family” attended her funeral on August 12.
In this portrait of Elizabeth aged around 18, we see that she is able to use the spinning wheel, and therefore could contribute to making clothing. This was a crucial skill for large farming families in the early 20th century, many of whom had to be resourceful and thrifty. The Dumonts’ mother, Marie, was a gifted craftswoman, and, as we can see from portraits like this one, she probably passed on much of her know-how to her daughters.
In this candid-like portrait, Émilia Dumont is busy hooking a rug. She is comfortably installed on the porch of her home on the Île aux Patins. Marie-Alice Dumont probably took the photo during one of her vacations on the island.
After Elizabeth at the spinning wheel and Émilia hooking a rug, here is Marie-Louise at the loom. And, of course, there are many similar portraits of their mother! Marie-Alice Dumont paid a great deal of attention to the women of the family and their technical skills.
Among the three girls posed here on the porch of the Dumont house is Elizabeth, far right, wearing glasses. She was already acting as an assistant to her older sister, as Marie-Alice had just recently opened her studio in the family home. The studio sign is clearly visible in this portrait.
The title of this portrait of Elizabeth reveals what was probably her family nickname: Zelta. She is posing once again for her sister, who recently set up her studio in the village of Saint-Alexandre. Zelta, fashionably dressed, takes on a confident air and looks directly at the lens. In keeping with the staging often adopted by women in Dumont’s studio, she pretends to be interrupted while reading a book.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Louise suffered a fall at the age of one, which caused health problems for the rest of her life. She is often photographed with crutches, as in this portrait taken in a kitchen; one of the most touching photographs by Marie-Alice Dumont. Despite the challenges, Marie-Louise worked as a schoolteacher in the Saint-Alexandre district for 10 years. It probably took great strength of character to achieve this.
Here, the Dumont siblings are gathered in front of what appears to be the home of the eldest, François, on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. What is the occasion? Perhaps a visit from Berthe (Sister Sainte-Marie-Anne), who was rarely able to visit her relatives during her life as a nun. From left to right, we can see François, Berthe, Albertine, Émilia, Anna, Joseph-Napoléon, Marie-Claire, Marie-Jeanne, Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Missing are Marie-Louise, who had died over 20 years prior, and Gabrielle.
This is another portrait of Berthe, the youngest of the Dumont siblings, between the ages of 25 and 30. In her nun’s garb, she is posing this time in her sister’s photography studio during one of her rare visits. After entering the convent at the age of 17, Berthe saw very little of her family. She spent most of her time teaching at the Sisters of Charity convent at the Saint-Alphonse de Thetford church. She sometimes complained about this in her letters to her parents.
Marie-Louise Dumont did not have an easy life, especially during her final months, when she was bedridden and unable to move. As she would do five years later for her mother, Marie-Alice Dumont photographed her younger sister in bed, dying, cross in hand. Marie-Louise died “piously” on August 8, aged 31 years and 10 months, as reported by Le Peuple, a Montmagny newspaper. A “large crowd of friends and family” attended her funeral on August 12.
In this portrait of Elizabeth aged around 18, we see that she is able to use the spinning wheel, and therefore could contribute to making clothing. This was a crucial skill for large farming families in the early 20th century, many of whom had to be resourceful and thrifty. The Dumonts’ mother, Marie, was a gifted craftswoman, and, as we can see from portraits like this one, she probably passed on much of her know-how to her daughters.
In this candid-like portrait, Émilia Dumont is busy hooking a rug. She is comfortably installed on the porch of her home on the Île aux Patins. Marie-Alice Dumont probably took the photo during one of her vacations on the island.
After Elizabeth at the spinning wheel and Émilia hooking a rug, here is Marie-Louise at the loom. And, of course, there are many similar portraits of their mother! Marie-Alice Dumont paid a great deal of attention to the women of the family and their technical skills.
Among the three girls posed here on the porch of the Dumont house is Elizabeth, far right, wearing glasses. She was already acting as an assistant to her older sister, as Marie-Alice had just recently opened her studio in the family home. The studio sign is clearly visible in this portrait.
The title of this portrait of Elizabeth reveals what was probably her family nickname: Zelta. She is posing once again for her sister, who recently set up her studio in the village of Saint-Alexandre. Zelta, fashionably dressed, takes on a confident air and looks directly at the lens. In keeping with the staging often adopted by women in Dumont’s studio, she pretends to be interrupted while reading a book.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Louise suffered a fall at the age of one, which caused health problems for the rest of her life. She is often photographed with crutches, as in this portrait taken in a kitchen; one of the most touching photographs by Marie-Alice Dumont. Despite the challenges, Marie-Louise worked as a schoolteacher in the Saint-Alexandre district for 10 years. It probably took great strength of character to achieve this.
Here, the Dumont siblings are gathered in front of what appears to be the home of the eldest, François, on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. What is the occasion? Perhaps a visit from Berthe (Sister Sainte-Marie-Anne), who was rarely able to visit her relatives during her life as a nun. From left to right, we can see François, Berthe, Albertine, Émilia, Anna, Joseph-Napoléon, Marie-Claire, Marie-Jeanne, Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Missing are Marie-Louise, who had died over 20 years prior, and Gabrielle.
This is another portrait of Berthe, the youngest of the Dumont siblings, between the ages of 25 and 30. In her nun’s garb, she is posing this time in her sister’s photography studio during one of her rare visits. After entering the convent at the age of 17, Berthe saw very little of her family. She spent most of her time teaching at the Sisters of Charity convent at the Saint-Alphonse de Thetford church. She sometimes complained about this in her letters to her parents.
Marie-Louise Dumont did not have an easy life, especially during her final months, when she was bedridden and unable to move. As she would do five years later for her mother, Marie-Alice Dumont photographed her younger sister in bed, dying, cross in hand. Marie-Louise died “piously” on August 8, aged 31 years and 10 months, as reported by Le Peuple, a Montmagny newspaper. A “large crowd of friends and family” attended her funeral on August 12.
In this portrait of Elizabeth aged around 18, we see that she is able to use the spinning wheel, and therefore could contribute to making clothing. This was a crucial skill for large farming families in the early 20th century, many of whom had to be resourceful and thrifty. The Dumonts’ mother, Marie, was a gifted craftswoman, and, as we can see from portraits like this one, she probably passed on much of her know-how to her daughters.
In this candid-like portrait, Émilia Dumont is busy hooking a rug. She is comfortably installed on the porch of her home on the Île aux Patins. Marie-Alice Dumont probably took the photo during one of her vacations on the island.
After Elizabeth at the spinning wheel and Émilia hooking a rug, here is Marie-Louise at the loom. And, of course, there are many similar portraits of their mother! Marie-Alice Dumont paid a great deal of attention to the women of the family and their technical skills.
Among the three girls posed here on the porch of the Dumont house is Elizabeth, far right, wearing glasses. She was already acting as an assistant to her older sister, as Marie-Alice had just recently opened her studio in the family home. The studio sign is clearly visible in this portrait.
The title of this portrait of Elizabeth reveals what was probably her family nickname: Zelta. She is posing once again for her sister, who recently set up her studio in the village of Saint-Alexandre. Zelta, fashionably dressed, takes on a confident air and looks directly at the lens. In keeping with the staging often adopted by women in Dumont’s studio, she pretends to be interrupted while reading a book.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Louise suffered a fall at the age of one, which caused health problems for the rest of her life. She is often photographed with crutches, as in this portrait taken in a kitchen; one of the most touching photographs by Marie-Alice Dumont. Despite the challenges, Marie-Louise worked as a schoolteacher in the Saint-Alexandre district for 10 years. It probably took great strength of character to achieve this.
Here, the Dumont siblings are gathered in front of what appears to be the home of the eldest, François, on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. What is the occasion? Perhaps a visit from Berthe (Sister Sainte-Marie-Anne), who was rarely able to visit her relatives during her life as a nun. From left to right, we can see François, Berthe, Albertine, Émilia, Anna, Joseph-Napoléon, Marie-Claire, Marie-Jeanne, Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Missing are Marie-Louise, who had died over 20 years prior, and Gabrielle.
This is another portrait of Berthe, the youngest of the Dumont siblings, between the ages of 25 and 30. In her nun’s garb, she is posing this time in her sister’s photography studio during one of her rare visits. After entering the convent at the age of 17, Berthe saw very little of her family. She spent most of her time teaching at the Sisters of Charity convent at the Saint-Alphonse de Thetford church. She sometimes complained about this in her letters to her parents.
Marie-Louise Dumont did not have an easy life, especially during her final months, when she was bedridden and unable to move. As she would do five years later for her mother, Marie-Alice Dumont photographed her younger sister in bed, dying, cross in hand. Marie-Louise died “piously” on August 8, aged 31 years and 10 months, as reported by Le Peuple, a Montmagny newspaper. A “large crowd of friends and family” attended her funeral on August 12.
In this portrait of Elizabeth aged around 18, we see that she is able to use the spinning wheel, and therefore could contribute to making clothing. This was a crucial skill for large farming families in the early 20th century, many of whom had to be resourceful and thrifty. The Dumonts’ mother, Marie, was a gifted craftswoman, and, as we can see from portraits like this one, she probably passed on much of her know-how to her daughters.
In this candid-like portrait, Émilia Dumont is busy hooking a rug. She is comfortably installed on the porch of her home on the Île aux Patins. Marie-Alice Dumont probably took the photo during one of her vacations on the island.
After Elizabeth at the spinning wheel and Émilia hooking a rug, here is Marie-Louise at the loom. And, of course, there are many similar portraits of their mother! Marie-Alice Dumont paid a great deal of attention to the women of the family and their technical skills.
Among the three girls posed here on the porch of the Dumont house is Elizabeth, far right, wearing glasses. She was already acting as an assistant to her older sister, as Marie-Alice had just recently opened her studio in the family home. The studio sign is clearly visible in this portrait.
The title of this portrait of Elizabeth reveals what was probably her family nickname: Zelta. She is posing once again for her sister, who recently set up her studio in the village of Saint-Alexandre. Zelta, fashionably dressed, takes on a confident air and looks directly at the lens. In keeping with the staging often adopted by women in Dumont’s studio, she pretends to be interrupted while reading a book.
According to Daria Dumont, Marie-Louise suffered a fall at the age of one, which caused health problems for the rest of her life. She is often photographed with crutches, as in this portrait taken in a kitchen; one of the most touching photographs by Marie-Alice Dumont. Despite the challenges, Marie-Louise worked as a schoolteacher in the Saint-Alexandre district for 10 years. It probably took great strength of character to achieve this.
Here, the Dumont siblings are gathered in front of what appears to be the home of the eldest, François, on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. What is the occasion? Perhaps a visit from Berthe (Sister Sainte-Marie-Anne), who was rarely able to visit her relatives during her life as a nun. From left to right, we can see François, Berthe, Albertine, Émilia, Anna, Joseph-Napoléon, Marie-Claire, Marie-Jeanne, Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Missing are Marie-Louise, who had died over 20 years prior, and Gabrielle.
This is another portrait of Berthe, the youngest of the Dumont siblings, between the ages of 25 and 30. In her nun’s garb, she is posing this time in her sister’s photography studio during one of her rare visits. After entering the convent at the age of 17, Berthe saw very little of her family. She spent most of her time teaching at the Sisters of Charity convent at the Saint-Alphonse de Thetford church. She sometimes complained about this in her letters to her parents.
Marie-Louise Dumont did not have an easy life, especially during her final months, when she was bedridden and unable to move. As she would do five years later for her mother, Marie-Alice Dumont photographed her younger sister in bed, dying, cross in hand. Marie-Louise died “piously” on August 8, aged 31 years and 10 months, as reported by Le Peuple, a Montmagny newspaper. A “large crowd of friends and family” attended her funeral on August 12.
The story of Rosalie Bergeron, Marie-Alice Dumont’s adopted sister, is one of tragic beginnings. Born on February 10, 1916, in Sainte-Emmélie-de-Lotbinière, Rosalie experienced a childhood of extreme poverty. Her mother, Mary Lemay, died from destitution and her father, Philéas, was an alcoholic who was unable to care for his children. As a result, Rosalie was underfed, poorly clothed and received very limited schooling. If this were happening today, it is safe to say social services would have stepped in!
Rosalie Bergeron joined the Dumont family in 1928, at the age of 11. She would stay until just after she got married in April 1945, at the age of 29. Her teenage years and first experiences of adulthood were therefore spent with Marie-Alice Dumont. Here she is between 12 and 15 years old. The portrait shows her practising embroidery, a craft learned by many young girls in those days. Dumont’s staging is rather serious. Rosalie looks diligent and focused. She is not looking at the camera, but at her hands or the instruction manual on her lap. Although the portrait was taken in a studio, it is meant to appear authentic and natural. It also suggests a false spontaneity, as if the photographer were saying, “See this young girl at work? This is part of her daily routine. She will soon be an adult and a responsible woman.” This portrait symbolizes the Dumont family’s acceptance of Rosalie after her difficult childhood.
In December 1927, Philéas was found dead in a train car, a victim of alcohol poisoning. His body was brought back to the family home and left on the floor for several days. No surprise, then, that the children complained about the smell.
When Rosalie was left orphaned at 11 years of age, Marie-Alice’s brother Napoléon was a priest in the parish where Rosalie lived. He was saddened by the “dire poverty” the Bergeron children were enduring, knowing that they would starve and freeze without help. He spoke to his parents, who decided to take Rosalie in.
In January 1928, Joseph-Napoléon went to Lotbinière to collect Rosalie (right) and her older sister Marguerite (left). Much to Napoleon’s surprise, the girls had no winter clothes; Rosalie was dressed in cotton garments full of holes. It would have been impossible to make the journey by train and horse-drawn cart, in strong winds and in temperatures of -20 °C, dressed like that. Napoléon lent the two girls his coats and heavy woollen stockings, and all three endured the icy journey as best they could. In this portrait, one of the first that Marie-Alice took of the Bergeron sisters, Rosalie and Marguerite are dressed quite differently. They wear warm, fashionable winter coats trimmed with fur, which was a luxury. What a change! A far cry from the “poor rags” they arrived in, as Napoléon wrote. It is clear that the Dumont family quickly changed Rosalie’s life.
Rosalie’s story is closely tied to Marie-Alice’s. For Marie-Alice, Rosalie was a sister, a friend and an assistant for nearly 20 years. The two remained close, as shown in the many portraits Marie-Alice left behind of Rosalie.
These photos let us piece together significant moments from Rosalie’s life. They start with her early teenage years, follow her through adulthood, capture her marriage to Lorenzo and end with her final years alongside her daughters, Céline and Pierrette. Click on the photos to learn more about Rosalie’s story!
Rosalie soon settled into “her new home,” wrote Napoléon. After her first year at Saint-Alexandre, Uldéric and Marie were very attached to Rosalie and decided to officially adopt her. She took the opportunity to change her name. Her parents had named her Rosalia at birth, but everyone in the Dumont household called her Rosalie. According to Napoléon, she “was happy and loveable.” She became particularly fond of Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Still in their teens, Rosalie and Elizabeth stayed with the photographer and helped her with her studio work. The three seemed to form a close-knit trio. All three are pictured here, in front of the home and studio.
In this portrait, we can see the strong bond between Rosalie (left) and Elizabeth (right). Rosalie is about 12, and Elizabeth, about 15. The composition of the photo emphasizes the closeness of the two subjects: their heads are leaning against each other, their bodies are touching and their chairs are placed opposite one another. The shadow effect at the bottom of the image, combined with their dark clothing, contrasts with the glow that bathes the two faces. It is unlikely that the photographer retained all these details in the print, but the final portrait would surely give a sense of softness and tenderness.
When she arrived in Saint-Alexandre, Rosalie attended the local convent school. Here, nuns prepared young girls like her for adult life. At school, Rosalie met Blanche Landry (right), who became her best friend. The difficulties they experienced as children seemed to bring them so close that they felt like sisters. They were inseparable and saw each other almost every day. They are about 18 to 20 years old in this photo.
Rosalie Bergeron and Blanche Landry spent time together at school, at home and in the Jeunesse étudiante catholique féminine (JECF), a Catholic girls’ group. They are both in the middle row of this photo: Blanche is first from the right, Rosalie fourth, near the centre. The JECF, founded in the mid-1930s under the supervision of the Catholic Church, was part of a Catholic Action movement that aimed to engage young people and proved very popular in Quebec. The Éclaireurs (or Scouts) were part of the same movement. The JECF focused on leisure activities, education and, above all, social involvement in the spirit of Christianity. During the economic crisis of the 1930s, JECF members like Rosalie and Blanche learned to organize, seeking solutions to problems of the time: misfortune, poverty, social injustice and the declining influence of the Catholic religion.
In this photo, taken in Marie-Alice Dumont’s orchard, Rosalie Bergeron appears with two nuns. Rosalie seems very interested in what they are doing. On February 14, 1934, at the tender age of 18, Rosalie entered the postulancy of the Sœurs dominicaines de l’Enfant-Jésus in Québec City, becoming a religious apprentice. But not everything goes according to plan. As it happened, Rosalie was not serious-minded enough to become a nun. A funny anecdote illustrates this very well: One day, Rosalie emptied the contents of a washbasin over the head of the Mother Superior, who annoyed her. In November, she returned to Saint-Alexandre, convinced that she did not have a religious calling after all.
On her return from the Dominican postulancy in November 1934, Rosalie was very “happy to get back to the old routines,” wrote Napoléon. This was good news for the Dumont family, too: Rosalie was determined, clean and tidy, and a good cook. It was not just Marie-Alice who was grateful for her help in the studio; everyone appreciated her spirit of hard work. This portrait is one of the first of Rosalie once she was firmly out of childhood and adolescence. Here, she is around 20 years old. Her makeup and hair are elegantly done, and she is wearing a more adult-style dress (it is fitted but still covers her legs). Although high school proms did not exist in Rosalie’s day, you would almost think that was where she was going! Here, Rosalie looks directly at the lens. This is in stark contrast to the portrait showing her embroidering. Altogether, the image is much more formal and conventional. Once again, Marie-Alice Dumont’s camera immortalizes a new stage in Rosalie’s life.
Young Rosalie Bergeron seems to have been a sought-after woman in the village. In this portrait, we see her at around 25, with Camille Soucy, who may have been her first boyfriend. Tall, smart in his suit and tie, relaxed, cigarette in hand and gazing into the camera, he is undoubtedly the star of this photo. Rosalie, who looks at him with interest and perhaps a little admiration, also looks very elegant. Are they dressed up for an outing somewhere? On the same day, the couple poses in the orchard, looking into each other’s eyes. Rosalie seems to have been very affected by this short-lived relationship, and she kept this photo in a small, heart-shaped box.
In this photograph, Rosalie Bergeron is 27 years old. At this age, she was already a resourceful young woman who had been seeking financial independence for some time. Her very first job was selling beauty products. Looking at this Hollywood-style portrait, we can imagine that Rosalie liked to keep up with the latest fashions. Marie-Alice Dumont, taking the photograph, was the same—she produced a number of portraits in this style from the 1940s onwards.
Rosalie Bergeron was well loved by the Dumonts and had truly become one of the family. Before long, Alcide Dumont (1873–1949), Marie-Alice’s uncle, spotted in her a potential match for his son Lorenzo. He praised her “talents” and arranged a meeting. It looked like there was a spark! There was just one drawback: Lorenzo had no fixed employment and no home of his own. It was decided that the young couple would stay at Marie-Alice’s house until Lorenzo’s situation stabilized. Lorenzo eventually found work in a foundry in Sainte-Croix, Lotbinière, where the couple moved in October 1946. In the meantime, they did not waste any time: they married on April 23, 1945, and welcomed their first child, Céline, on January 26, 1946.
Shortly after their arrival in Sainte-Croix, the couple’s second child, Pierrette, was born. Here she is (left) with her mother and older sister, Céline. This is one of the last portraits Marie-Alice Dumont took of Rosalie. As can be seen here, Rosalie and her family lived quite comfortably in a big, beautiful house. The girls are dressed warmly for winter, and Rosalie wears a coat made entirely of fur—a great luxury. But, unfortunately, Rosalie was not happy. First, her husband Lorenzo had quit his job at the foundry because it was too hard on his health, and instead he was regularly working far from home. Rosalie also felt cut off from her family and friends, especially Marie-Alice and Napoléon. Her rheumatism did not help in the slightest. In fact, she had such pain in her legs that she had difficulty walking. Finally, to make matters worse, Rosalie developed heart problems at an early age. According to Napoléon, this was because she had “abused aspirin to relieve her suffering.” One day in February 1962, Céline, then aged 16, found her mother in her bedroom, having died suddenly at the age of just 45. It was a tragic end to Rosalie Bergeron’s story.
Rosalie soon settled into “her new home,” wrote Napoléon. After her first year at Saint-Alexandre, Uldéric and Marie were very attached to Rosalie and decided to officially adopt her. She took the opportunity to change her name. Her parents had named her Rosalia at birth, but everyone in the Dumont household called her Rosalie. According to Napoléon, she “was happy and loveable.” She became particularly fond of Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Still in their teens, Rosalie and Elizabeth stayed with the photographer and helped her with her studio work. The three seemed to form a close-knit trio. All three are pictured here, in front of the home and studio.
In this portrait, we can see the strong bond between Rosalie (left) and Elizabeth (right). Rosalie is about 12, and Elizabeth, about 15. The composition of the photo emphasizes the closeness of the two subjects: their heads are leaning against each other, their bodies are touching and their chairs are placed opposite one another. The shadow effect at the bottom of the image, combined with their dark clothing, contrasts with the glow that bathes the two faces. It is unlikely that the photographer retained all these details in the print, but the final portrait would surely give a sense of softness and tenderness.
When she arrived in Saint-Alexandre, Rosalie attended the local convent school. Here, nuns prepared young girls like her for adult life. At school, Rosalie met Blanche Landry (right), who became her best friend. The difficulties they experienced as children seemed to bring them so close that they felt like sisters. They were inseparable and saw each other almost every day. They are about 18 to 20 years old in this photo.
Rosalie Bergeron and Blanche Landry spent time together at school, at home and in the Jeunesse étudiante catholique féminine (JECF), a Catholic girls’ group. They are both in the middle row of this photo: Blanche is first from the right, Rosalie fourth, near the centre. The JECF, founded in the mid-1930s under the supervision of the Catholic Church, was part of a Catholic Action movement that aimed to engage young people and proved very popular in Quebec. The Éclaireurs (or Scouts) were part of the same movement. The JECF focused on leisure activities, education and, above all, social involvement in the spirit of Christianity. During the economic crisis of the 1930s, JECF members like Rosalie and Blanche learned to organize, seeking solutions to problems of the time: misfortune, poverty, social injustice and the declining influence of the Catholic religion.
In this photo, taken in Marie-Alice Dumont’s orchard, Rosalie Bergeron appears with two nuns. Rosalie seems very interested in what they are doing. On February 14, 1934, at the tender age of 18, Rosalie entered the postulancy of the Sœurs dominicaines de l’Enfant-Jésus in Québec City, becoming a religious apprentice. But not everything goes according to plan. As it happened, Rosalie was not serious-minded enough to become a nun. A funny anecdote illustrates this very well: One day, Rosalie emptied the contents of a washbasin over the head of the Mother Superior, who annoyed her. In November, she returned to Saint-Alexandre, convinced that she did not have a religious calling after all.
On her return from the Dominican postulancy in November 1934, Rosalie was very “happy to get back to the old routines,” wrote Napoléon. This was good news for the Dumont family, too: Rosalie was determined, clean and tidy, and a good cook. It was not just Marie-Alice who was grateful for her help in the studio; everyone appreciated her spirit of hard work. This portrait is one of the first of Rosalie once she was firmly out of childhood and adolescence. Here, she is around 20 years old. Her makeup and hair are elegantly done, and she is wearing a more adult-style dress (it is fitted but still covers her legs). Although high school proms did not exist in Rosalie’s day, you would almost think that was where she was going! Here, Rosalie looks directly at the lens. This is in stark contrast to the portrait showing her embroidering. Altogether, the image is much more formal and conventional. Once again, Marie-Alice Dumont’s camera immortalizes a new stage in Rosalie’s life.
Young Rosalie Bergeron seems to have been a sought-after woman in the village. In this portrait, we see her at around 25, with Camille Soucy, who may have been her first boyfriend. Tall, smart in his suit and tie, relaxed, cigarette in hand and gazing into the camera, he is undoubtedly the star of this photo. Rosalie, who looks at him with interest and perhaps a little admiration, also looks very elegant. Are they dressed up for an outing somewhere? On the same day, the couple poses in the orchard, looking into each other’s eyes. Rosalie seems to have been very affected by this short-lived relationship, and she kept this photo in a small, heart-shaped box.
In this photograph, Rosalie Bergeron is 27 years old. At this age, she was already a resourceful young woman who had been seeking financial independence for some time. Her very first job was selling beauty products. Looking at this Hollywood-style portrait, we can imagine that Rosalie liked to keep up with the latest fashions. Marie-Alice Dumont, taking the photograph, was the same—she produced a number of portraits in this style from the 1940s onwards.
Rosalie Bergeron was well loved by the Dumonts and had truly become one of the family. Before long, Alcide Dumont (1873–1949), Marie-Alice’s uncle, spotted in her a potential match for his son Lorenzo. He praised her “talents” and arranged a meeting. It looked like there was a spark! There was just one drawback: Lorenzo had no fixed employment and no home of his own. It was decided that the young couple would stay at Marie-Alice’s house until Lorenzo’s situation stabilized. Lorenzo eventually found work in a foundry in Sainte-Croix, Lotbinière, where the couple moved in October 1946. In the meantime, they did not waste any time: they married on April 23, 1945, and welcomed their first child, Céline, on January 26, 1946.
Shortly after their arrival in Sainte-Croix, the couple’s second child, Pierrette, was born. Here she is (left) with her mother and older sister, Céline. This is one of the last portraits Marie-Alice Dumont took of Rosalie. As can be seen here, Rosalie and her family lived quite comfortably in a big, beautiful house. The girls are dressed warmly for winter, and Rosalie wears a coat made entirely of fur—a great luxury. But, unfortunately, Rosalie was not happy. First, her husband Lorenzo had quit his job at the foundry because it was too hard on his health, and instead he was regularly working far from home. Rosalie also felt cut off from her family and friends, especially Marie-Alice and Napoléon. Her rheumatism did not help in the slightest. In fact, she had such pain in her legs that she had difficulty walking. Finally, to make matters worse, Rosalie developed heart problems at an early age. According to Napoléon, this was because she had “abused aspirin to relieve her suffering.” One day in February 1962, Céline, then aged 16, found her mother in her bedroom, having died suddenly at the age of just 45. It was a tragic end to Rosalie Bergeron’s story.
Rosalie soon settled into “her new home,” wrote Napoléon. After her first year at Saint-Alexandre, Uldéric and Marie were very attached to Rosalie and decided to officially adopt her. She took the opportunity to change her name. Her parents had named her Rosalia at birth, but everyone in the Dumont household called her Rosalie. According to Napoléon, she “was happy and loveable.” She became particularly fond of Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Still in their teens, Rosalie and Elizabeth stayed with the photographer and helped her with her studio work. The three seemed to form a close-knit trio. All three are pictured here, in front of the home and studio.
In this portrait, we can see the strong bond between Rosalie (left) and Elizabeth (right). Rosalie is about 12, and Elizabeth, about 15. The composition of the photo emphasizes the closeness of the two subjects: their heads are leaning against each other, their bodies are touching and their chairs are placed opposite one another. The shadow effect at the bottom of the image, combined with their dark clothing, contrasts with the glow that bathes the two faces. It is unlikely that the photographer retained all these details in the print, but the final portrait would surely give a sense of softness and tenderness.
When she arrived in Saint-Alexandre, Rosalie attended the local convent school. Here, nuns prepared young girls like her for adult life. At school, Rosalie met Blanche Landry (right), who became her best friend. The difficulties they experienced as children seemed to bring them so close that they felt like sisters. They were inseparable and saw each other almost every day. They are about 18 to 20 years old in this photo.
Rosalie Bergeron and Blanche Landry spent time together at school, at home and in the Jeunesse étudiante catholique féminine (JECF), a Catholic girls’ group. They are both in the middle row of this photo: Blanche is first from the right, Rosalie fourth, near the centre. The JECF, founded in the mid-1930s under the supervision of the Catholic Church, was part of a Catholic Action movement that aimed to engage young people and proved very popular in Quebec. The Éclaireurs (or Scouts) were part of the same movement. The JECF focused on leisure activities, education and, above all, social involvement in the spirit of Christianity. During the economic crisis of the 1930s, JECF members like Rosalie and Blanche learned to organize, seeking solutions to problems of the time: misfortune, poverty, social injustice and the declining influence of the Catholic religion.
In this photo, taken in Marie-Alice Dumont’s orchard, Rosalie Bergeron appears with two nuns. Rosalie seems very interested in what they are doing. On February 14, 1934, at the tender age of 18, Rosalie entered the postulancy of the Sœurs dominicaines de l’Enfant-Jésus in Québec City, becoming a religious apprentice. But not everything goes according to plan. As it happened, Rosalie was not serious-minded enough to become a nun. A funny anecdote illustrates this very well: One day, Rosalie emptied the contents of a washbasin over the head of the Mother Superior, who annoyed her. In November, she returned to Saint-Alexandre, convinced that she did not have a religious calling after all.
On her return from the Dominican postulancy in November 1934, Rosalie was very “happy to get back to the old routines,” wrote Napoléon. This was good news for the Dumont family, too: Rosalie was determined, clean and tidy, and a good cook. It was not just Marie-Alice who was grateful for her help in the studio; everyone appreciated her spirit of hard work. This portrait is one of the first of Rosalie once she was firmly out of childhood and adolescence. Here, she is around 20 years old. Her makeup and hair are elegantly done, and she is wearing a more adult-style dress (it is fitted but still covers her legs). Although high school proms did not exist in Rosalie’s day, you would almost think that was where she was going! Here, Rosalie looks directly at the lens. This is in stark contrast to the portrait showing her embroidering. Altogether, the image is much more formal and conventional. Once again, Marie-Alice Dumont’s camera immortalizes a new stage in Rosalie’s life.
Young Rosalie Bergeron seems to have been a sought-after woman in the village. In this portrait, we see her at around 25, with Camille Soucy, who may have been her first boyfriend. Tall, smart in his suit and tie, relaxed, cigarette in hand and gazing into the camera, he is undoubtedly the star of this photo. Rosalie, who looks at him with interest and perhaps a little admiration, also looks very elegant. Are they dressed up for an outing somewhere? On the same day, the couple poses in the orchard, looking into each other’s eyes. Rosalie seems to have been very affected by this short-lived relationship, and she kept this photo in a small, heart-shaped box.
In this photograph, Rosalie Bergeron is 27 years old. At this age, she was already a resourceful young woman who had been seeking financial independence for some time. Her very first job was selling beauty products. Looking at this Hollywood-style portrait, we can imagine that Rosalie liked to keep up with the latest fashions. Marie-Alice Dumont, taking the photograph, was the same—she produced a number of portraits in this style from the 1940s onwards.
Rosalie Bergeron was well loved by the Dumonts and had truly become one of the family. Before long, Alcide Dumont (1873–1949), Marie-Alice’s uncle, spotted in her a potential match for his son Lorenzo. He praised her “talents” and arranged a meeting. It looked like there was a spark! There was just one drawback: Lorenzo had no fixed employment and no home of his own. It was decided that the young couple would stay at Marie-Alice’s house until Lorenzo’s situation stabilized. Lorenzo eventually found work in a foundry in Sainte-Croix, Lotbinière, where the couple moved in October 1946. In the meantime, they did not waste any time: they married on April 23, 1945, and welcomed their first child, Céline, on January 26, 1946.
Shortly after their arrival in Sainte-Croix, the couple’s second child, Pierrette, was born. Here she is (left) with her mother and older sister, Céline. This is one of the last portraits Marie-Alice Dumont took of Rosalie. As can be seen here, Rosalie and her family lived quite comfortably in a big, beautiful house. The girls are dressed warmly for winter, and Rosalie wears a coat made entirely of fur—a great luxury. But, unfortunately, Rosalie was not happy. First, her husband Lorenzo had quit his job at the foundry because it was too hard on his health, and instead he was regularly working far from home. Rosalie also felt cut off from her family and friends, especially Marie-Alice and Napoléon. Her rheumatism did not help in the slightest. In fact, she had such pain in her legs that she had difficulty walking. Finally, to make matters worse, Rosalie developed heart problems at an early age. According to Napoléon, this was because she had “abused aspirin to relieve her suffering.” One day in February 1962, Céline, then aged 16, found her mother in her bedroom, having died suddenly at the age of just 45. It was a tragic end to Rosalie Bergeron’s story.
Rosalie soon settled into “her new home,” wrote Napoléon. After her first year at Saint-Alexandre, Uldéric and Marie were very attached to Rosalie and decided to officially adopt her. She took the opportunity to change her name. Her parents had named her Rosalia at birth, but everyone in the Dumont household called her Rosalie. According to Napoléon, she “was happy and loveable.” She became particularly fond of Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Still in their teens, Rosalie and Elizabeth stayed with the photographer and helped her with her studio work. The three seemed to form a close-knit trio. All three are pictured here, in front of the home and studio.
In this portrait, we can see the strong bond between Rosalie (left) and Elizabeth (right). Rosalie is about 12, and Elizabeth, about 15. The composition of the photo emphasizes the closeness of the two subjects: their heads are leaning against each other, their bodies are touching and their chairs are placed opposite one another. The shadow effect at the bottom of the image, combined with their dark clothing, contrasts with the glow that bathes the two faces. It is unlikely that the photographer retained all these details in the print, but the final portrait would surely give a sense of softness and tenderness.
When she arrived in Saint-Alexandre, Rosalie attended the local convent school. Here, nuns prepared young girls like her for adult life. At school, Rosalie met Blanche Landry (right), who became her best friend. The difficulties they experienced as children seemed to bring them so close that they felt like sisters. They were inseparable and saw each other almost every day. They are about 18 to 20 years old in this photo.
Rosalie Bergeron and Blanche Landry spent time together at school, at home and in the Jeunesse étudiante catholique féminine (JECF), a Catholic girls’ group. They are both in the middle row of this photo: Blanche is first from the right, Rosalie fourth, near the centre. The JECF, founded in the mid-1930s under the supervision of the Catholic Church, was part of a Catholic Action movement that aimed to engage young people and proved very popular in Quebec. The Éclaireurs (or Scouts) were part of the same movement. The JECF focused on leisure activities, education and, above all, social involvement in the spirit of Christianity. During the economic crisis of the 1930s, JECF members like Rosalie and Blanche learned to organize, seeking solutions to problems of the time: misfortune, poverty, social injustice and the declining influence of the Catholic religion.
In this photo, taken in Marie-Alice Dumont’s orchard, Rosalie Bergeron appears with two nuns. Rosalie seems very interested in what they are doing. On February 14, 1934, at the tender age of 18, Rosalie entered the postulancy of the Sœurs dominicaines de l’Enfant-Jésus in Québec City, becoming a religious apprentice. But not everything goes according to plan. As it happened, Rosalie was not serious-minded enough to become a nun. A funny anecdote illustrates this very well: One day, Rosalie emptied the contents of a washbasin over the head of the Mother Superior, who annoyed her. In November, she returned to Saint-Alexandre, convinced that she did not have a religious calling after all.
On her return from the Dominican postulancy in November 1934, Rosalie was very “happy to get back to the old routines,” wrote Napoléon. This was good news for the Dumont family, too: Rosalie was determined, clean and tidy, and a good cook. It was not just Marie-Alice who was grateful for her help in the studio; everyone appreciated her spirit of hard work. This portrait is one of the first of Rosalie once she was firmly out of childhood and adolescence. Here, she is around 20 years old. Her makeup and hair are elegantly done, and she is wearing a more adult-style dress (it is fitted but still covers her legs). Although high school proms did not exist in Rosalie’s day, you would almost think that was where she was going! Here, Rosalie looks directly at the lens. This is in stark contrast to the portrait showing her embroidering. Altogether, the image is much more formal and conventional. Once again, Marie-Alice Dumont’s camera immortalizes a new stage in Rosalie’s life.
Young Rosalie Bergeron seems to have been a sought-after woman in the village. In this portrait, we see her at around 25, with Camille Soucy, who may have been her first boyfriend. Tall, smart in his suit and tie, relaxed, cigarette in hand and gazing into the camera, he is undoubtedly the star of this photo. Rosalie, who looks at him with interest and perhaps a little admiration, also looks very elegant. Are they dressed up for an outing somewhere? On the same day, the couple poses in the orchard, looking into each other’s eyes. Rosalie seems to have been very affected by this short-lived relationship, and she kept this photo in a small, heart-shaped box.
In this photograph, Rosalie Bergeron is 27 years old. At this age, she was already a resourceful young woman who had been seeking financial independence for some time. Her very first job was selling beauty products. Looking at this Hollywood-style portrait, we can imagine that Rosalie liked to keep up with the latest fashions. Marie-Alice Dumont, taking the photograph, was the same—she produced a number of portraits in this style from the 1940s onwards.
Rosalie Bergeron was well loved by the Dumonts and had truly become one of the family. Before long, Alcide Dumont (1873–1949), Marie-Alice’s uncle, spotted in her a potential match for his son Lorenzo. He praised her “talents” and arranged a meeting. It looked like there was a spark! There was just one drawback: Lorenzo had no fixed employment and no home of his own. It was decided that the young couple would stay at Marie-Alice’s house until Lorenzo’s situation stabilized. Lorenzo eventually found work in a foundry in Sainte-Croix, Lotbinière, where the couple moved in October 1946. In the meantime, they did not waste any time: they married on April 23, 1945, and welcomed their first child, Céline, on January 26, 1946.
Shortly after their arrival in Sainte-Croix, the couple’s second child, Pierrette, was born. Here she is (left) with her mother and older sister, Céline. This is one of the last portraits Marie-Alice Dumont took of Rosalie. As can be seen here, Rosalie and her family lived quite comfortably in a big, beautiful house. The girls are dressed warmly for winter, and Rosalie wears a coat made entirely of fur—a great luxury. But, unfortunately, Rosalie was not happy. First, her husband Lorenzo had quit his job at the foundry because it was too hard on his health, and instead he was regularly working far from home. Rosalie also felt cut off from her family and friends, especially Marie-Alice and Napoléon. Her rheumatism did not help in the slightest. In fact, she had such pain in her legs that she had difficulty walking. Finally, to make matters worse, Rosalie developed heart problems at an early age. According to Napoléon, this was because she had “abused aspirin to relieve her suffering.” One day in February 1962, Céline, then aged 16, found her mother in her bedroom, having died suddenly at the age of just 45. It was a tragic end to Rosalie Bergeron’s story.
Rosalie soon settled into “her new home,” wrote Napoléon. After her first year at Saint-Alexandre, Uldéric and Marie were very attached to Rosalie and decided to officially adopt her. She took the opportunity to change her name. Her parents had named her Rosalia at birth, but everyone in the Dumont household called her Rosalie. According to Napoléon, she “was happy and loveable.” She became particularly fond of Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Still in their teens, Rosalie and Elizabeth stayed with the photographer and helped her with her studio work. The three seemed to form a close-knit trio. All three are pictured here, in front of the home and studio.
In this portrait, we can see the strong bond between Rosalie (left) and Elizabeth (right). Rosalie is about 12, and Elizabeth, about 15. The composition of the photo emphasizes the closeness of the two subjects: their heads are leaning against each other, their bodies are touching and their chairs are placed opposite one another. The shadow effect at the bottom of the image, combined with their dark clothing, contrasts with the glow that bathes the two faces. It is unlikely that the photographer retained all these details in the print, but the final portrait would surely give a sense of softness and tenderness.
When she arrived in Saint-Alexandre, Rosalie attended the local convent school. Here, nuns prepared young girls like her for adult life. At school, Rosalie met Blanche Landry (right), who became her best friend. The difficulties they experienced as children seemed to bring them so close that they felt like sisters. They were inseparable and saw each other almost every day. They are about 18 to 20 years old in this photo.
Rosalie Bergeron and Blanche Landry spent time together at school, at home and in the Jeunesse étudiante catholique féminine (JECF), a Catholic girls’ group. They are both in the middle row of this photo: Blanche is first from the right, Rosalie fourth, near the centre. The JECF, founded in the mid-1930s under the supervision of the Catholic Church, was part of a Catholic Action movement that aimed to engage young people and proved very popular in Quebec. The Éclaireurs (or Scouts) were part of the same movement. The JECF focused on leisure activities, education and, above all, social involvement in the spirit of Christianity. During the economic crisis of the 1930s, JECF members like Rosalie and Blanche learned to organize, seeking solutions to problems of the time: misfortune, poverty, social injustice and the declining influence of the Catholic religion.
In this photo, taken in Marie-Alice Dumont’s orchard, Rosalie Bergeron appears with two nuns. Rosalie seems very interested in what they are doing. On February 14, 1934, at the tender age of 18, Rosalie entered the postulancy of the Sœurs dominicaines de l’Enfant-Jésus in Québec City, becoming a religious apprentice. But not everything goes according to plan. As it happened, Rosalie was not serious-minded enough to become a nun. A funny anecdote illustrates this very well: One day, Rosalie emptied the contents of a washbasin over the head of the Mother Superior, who annoyed her. In November, she returned to Saint-Alexandre, convinced that she did not have a religious calling after all.
On her return from the Dominican postulancy in November 1934, Rosalie was very “happy to get back to the old routines,” wrote Napoléon. This was good news for the Dumont family, too: Rosalie was determined, clean and tidy, and a good cook. It was not just Marie-Alice who was grateful for her help in the studio; everyone appreciated her spirit of hard work. This portrait is one of the first of Rosalie once she was firmly out of childhood and adolescence. Here, she is around 20 years old. Her makeup and hair are elegantly done, and she is wearing a more adult-style dress (it is fitted but still covers her legs). Although high school proms did not exist in Rosalie’s day, you would almost think that was where she was going! Here, Rosalie looks directly at the lens. This is in stark contrast to the portrait showing her embroidering. Altogether, the image is much more formal and conventional. Once again, Marie-Alice Dumont’s camera immortalizes a new stage in Rosalie’s life.
Young Rosalie Bergeron seems to have been a sought-after woman in the village. In this portrait, we see her at around 25, with Camille Soucy, who may have been her first boyfriend. Tall, smart in his suit and tie, relaxed, cigarette in hand and gazing into the camera, he is undoubtedly the star of this photo. Rosalie, who looks at him with interest and perhaps a little admiration, also looks very elegant. Are they dressed up for an outing somewhere? On the same day, the couple poses in the orchard, looking into each other’s eyes. Rosalie seems to have been very affected by this short-lived relationship, and she kept this photo in a small, heart-shaped box.
In this photograph, Rosalie Bergeron is 27 years old. At this age, she was already a resourceful young woman who had been seeking financial independence for some time. Her very first job was selling beauty products. Looking at this Hollywood-style portrait, we can imagine that Rosalie liked to keep up with the latest fashions. Marie-Alice Dumont, taking the photograph, was the same—she produced a number of portraits in this style from the 1940s onwards.
Rosalie Bergeron was well loved by the Dumonts and had truly become one of the family. Before long, Alcide Dumont (1873–1949), Marie-Alice’s uncle, spotted in her a potential match for his son Lorenzo. He praised her “talents” and arranged a meeting. It looked like there was a spark! There was just one drawback: Lorenzo had no fixed employment and no home of his own. It was decided that the young couple would stay at Marie-Alice’s house until Lorenzo’s situation stabilized. Lorenzo eventually found work in a foundry in Sainte-Croix, Lotbinière, where the couple moved in October 1946. In the meantime, they did not waste any time: they married on April 23, 1945, and welcomed their first child, Céline, on January 26, 1946.
Shortly after their arrival in Sainte-Croix, the couple’s second child, Pierrette, was born. Here she is (left) with her mother and older sister, Céline. This is one of the last portraits Marie-Alice Dumont took of Rosalie. As can be seen here, Rosalie and her family lived quite comfortably in a big, beautiful house. The girls are dressed warmly for winter, and Rosalie wears a coat made entirely of fur—a great luxury. But, unfortunately, Rosalie was not happy. First, her husband Lorenzo had quit his job at the foundry because it was too hard on his health, and instead he was regularly working far from home. Rosalie also felt cut off from her family and friends, especially Marie-Alice and Napoléon. Her rheumatism did not help in the slightest. In fact, she had such pain in her legs that she had difficulty walking. Finally, to make matters worse, Rosalie developed heart problems at an early age. According to Napoléon, this was because she had “abused aspirin to relieve her suffering.” One day in February 1962, Céline, then aged 16, found her mother in her bedroom, having died suddenly at the age of just 45. It was a tragic end to Rosalie Bergeron’s story.
Rosalie soon settled into “her new home,” wrote Napoléon. After her first year at Saint-Alexandre, Uldéric and Marie were very attached to Rosalie and decided to officially adopt her. She took the opportunity to change her name. Her parents had named her Rosalia at birth, but everyone in the Dumont household called her Rosalie. According to Napoléon, she “was happy and loveable.” She became particularly fond of Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Still in their teens, Rosalie and Elizabeth stayed with the photographer and helped her with her studio work. The three seemed to form a close-knit trio. All three are pictured here, in front of the home and studio.
In this portrait, we can see the strong bond between Rosalie (left) and Elizabeth (right). Rosalie is about 12, and Elizabeth, about 15. The composition of the photo emphasizes the closeness of the two subjects: their heads are leaning against each other, their bodies are touching and their chairs are placed opposite one another. The shadow effect at the bottom of the image, combined with their dark clothing, contrasts with the glow that bathes the two faces. It is unlikely that the photographer retained all these details in the print, but the final portrait would surely give a sense of softness and tenderness.
When she arrived in Saint-Alexandre, Rosalie attended the local convent school. Here, nuns prepared young girls like her for adult life. At school, Rosalie met Blanche Landry (right), who became her best friend. The difficulties they experienced as children seemed to bring them so close that they felt like sisters. They were inseparable and saw each other almost every day. They are about 18 to 20 years old in this photo.
Rosalie Bergeron and Blanche Landry spent time together at school, at home and in the Jeunesse étudiante catholique féminine (JECF), a Catholic girls’ group. They are both in the middle row of this photo: Blanche is first from the right, Rosalie fourth, near the centre. The JECF, founded in the mid-1930s under the supervision of the Catholic Church, was part of a Catholic Action movement that aimed to engage young people and proved very popular in Quebec. The Éclaireurs (or Scouts) were part of the same movement. The JECF focused on leisure activities, education and, above all, social involvement in the spirit of Christianity. During the economic crisis of the 1930s, JECF members like Rosalie and Blanche learned to organize, seeking solutions to problems of the time: misfortune, poverty, social injustice and the declining influence of the Catholic religion.
In this photo, taken in Marie-Alice Dumont’s orchard, Rosalie Bergeron appears with two nuns. Rosalie seems very interested in what they are doing. On February 14, 1934, at the tender age of 18, Rosalie entered the postulancy of the Sœurs dominicaines de l’Enfant-Jésus in Québec City, becoming a religious apprentice. But not everything goes according to plan. As it happened, Rosalie was not serious-minded enough to become a nun. A funny anecdote illustrates this very well: One day, Rosalie emptied the contents of a washbasin over the head of the Mother Superior, who annoyed her. In November, she returned to Saint-Alexandre, convinced that she did not have a religious calling after all.
On her return from the Dominican postulancy in November 1934, Rosalie was very “happy to get back to the old routines,” wrote Napoléon. This was good news for the Dumont family, too: Rosalie was determined, clean and tidy, and a good cook. It was not just Marie-Alice who was grateful for her help in the studio; everyone appreciated her spirit of hard work. This portrait is one of the first of Rosalie once she was firmly out of childhood and adolescence. Here, she is around 20 years old. Her makeup and hair are elegantly done, and she is wearing a more adult-style dress (it is fitted but still covers her legs). Although high school proms did not exist in Rosalie’s day, you would almost think that was where she was going! Here, Rosalie looks directly at the lens. This is in stark contrast to the portrait showing her embroidering. Altogether, the image is much more formal and conventional. Once again, Marie-Alice Dumont’s camera immortalizes a new stage in Rosalie’s life.
Young Rosalie Bergeron seems to have been a sought-after woman in the village. In this portrait, we see her at around 25, with Camille Soucy, who may have been her first boyfriend. Tall, smart in his suit and tie, relaxed, cigarette in hand and gazing into the camera, he is undoubtedly the star of this photo. Rosalie, who looks at him with interest and perhaps a little admiration, also looks very elegant. Are they dressed up for an outing somewhere? On the same day, the couple poses in the orchard, looking into each other’s eyes. Rosalie seems to have been very affected by this short-lived relationship, and she kept this photo in a small, heart-shaped box.
In this photograph, Rosalie Bergeron is 27 years old. At this age, she was already a resourceful young woman who had been seeking financial independence for some time. Her very first job was selling beauty products. Looking at this Hollywood-style portrait, we can imagine that Rosalie liked to keep up with the latest fashions. Marie-Alice Dumont, taking the photograph, was the same—she produced a number of portraits in this style from the 1940s onwards.
Rosalie Bergeron was well loved by the Dumonts and had truly become one of the family. Before long, Alcide Dumont (1873–1949), Marie-Alice’s uncle, spotted in her a potential match for his son Lorenzo. He praised her “talents” and arranged a meeting. It looked like there was a spark! There was just one drawback: Lorenzo had no fixed employment and no home of his own. It was decided that the young couple would stay at Marie-Alice’s house until Lorenzo’s situation stabilized. Lorenzo eventually found work in a foundry in Sainte-Croix, Lotbinière, where the couple moved in October 1946. In the meantime, they did not waste any time: they married on April 23, 1945, and welcomed their first child, Céline, on January 26, 1946.
Shortly after their arrival in Sainte-Croix, the couple’s second child, Pierrette, was born. Here she is (left) with her mother and older sister, Céline. This is one of the last portraits Marie-Alice Dumont took of Rosalie. As can be seen here, Rosalie and her family lived quite comfortably in a big, beautiful house. The girls are dressed warmly for winter, and Rosalie wears a coat made entirely of fur—a great luxury. But, unfortunately, Rosalie was not happy. First, her husband Lorenzo had quit his job at the foundry because it was too hard on his health, and instead he was regularly working far from home. Rosalie also felt cut off from her family and friends, especially Marie-Alice and Napoléon. Her rheumatism did not help in the slightest. In fact, she had such pain in her legs that she had difficulty walking. Finally, to make matters worse, Rosalie developed heart problems at an early age. According to Napoléon, this was because she had “abused aspirin to relieve her suffering.” One day in February 1962, Céline, then aged 16, found her mother in her bedroom, having died suddenly at the age of just 45. It was a tragic end to Rosalie Bergeron’s story.
Rosalie soon settled into “her new home,” wrote Napoléon. After her first year at Saint-Alexandre, Uldéric and Marie were very attached to Rosalie and decided to officially adopt her. She took the opportunity to change her name. Her parents had named her Rosalia at birth, but everyone in the Dumont household called her Rosalie. According to Napoléon, she “was happy and loveable.” She became particularly fond of Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Still in their teens, Rosalie and Elizabeth stayed with the photographer and helped her with her studio work. The three seemed to form a close-knit trio. All three are pictured here, in front of the home and studio.
In this portrait, we can see the strong bond between Rosalie (left) and Elizabeth (right). Rosalie is about 12, and Elizabeth, about 15. The composition of the photo emphasizes the closeness of the two subjects: their heads are leaning against each other, their bodies are touching and their chairs are placed opposite one another. The shadow effect at the bottom of the image, combined with their dark clothing, contrasts with the glow that bathes the two faces. It is unlikely that the photographer retained all these details in the print, but the final portrait would surely give a sense of softness and tenderness.
When she arrived in Saint-Alexandre, Rosalie attended the local convent school. Here, nuns prepared young girls like her for adult life. At school, Rosalie met Blanche Landry (right), who became her best friend. The difficulties they experienced as children seemed to bring them so close that they felt like sisters. They were inseparable and saw each other almost every day. They are about 18 to 20 years old in this photo.
Rosalie Bergeron and Blanche Landry spent time together at school, at home and in the Jeunesse étudiante catholique féminine (JECF), a Catholic girls’ group. They are both in the middle row of this photo: Blanche is first from the right, Rosalie fourth, near the centre. The JECF, founded in the mid-1930s under the supervision of the Catholic Church, was part of a Catholic Action movement that aimed to engage young people and proved very popular in Quebec. The Éclaireurs (or Scouts) were part of the same movement. The JECF focused on leisure activities, education and, above all, social involvement in the spirit of Christianity. During the economic crisis of the 1930s, JECF members like Rosalie and Blanche learned to organize, seeking solutions to problems of the time: misfortune, poverty, social injustice and the declining influence of the Catholic religion.
In this photo, taken in Marie-Alice Dumont’s orchard, Rosalie Bergeron appears with two nuns. Rosalie seems very interested in what they are doing. On February 14, 1934, at the tender age of 18, Rosalie entered the postulancy of the Sœurs dominicaines de l’Enfant-Jésus in Québec City, becoming a religious apprentice. But not everything goes according to plan. As it happened, Rosalie was not serious-minded enough to become a nun. A funny anecdote illustrates this very well: One day, Rosalie emptied the contents of a washbasin over the head of the Mother Superior, who annoyed her. In November, she returned to Saint-Alexandre, convinced that she did not have a religious calling after all.
On her return from the Dominican postulancy in November 1934, Rosalie was very “happy to get back to the old routines,” wrote Napoléon. This was good news for the Dumont family, too: Rosalie was determined, clean and tidy, and a good cook. It was not just Marie-Alice who was grateful for her help in the studio; everyone appreciated her spirit of hard work. This portrait is one of the first of Rosalie once she was firmly out of childhood and adolescence. Here, she is around 20 years old. Her makeup and hair are elegantly done, and she is wearing a more adult-style dress (it is fitted but still covers her legs). Although high school proms did not exist in Rosalie’s day, you would almost think that was where she was going! Here, Rosalie looks directly at the lens. This is in stark contrast to the portrait showing her embroidering. Altogether, the image is much more formal and conventional. Once again, Marie-Alice Dumont’s camera immortalizes a new stage in Rosalie’s life.
Young Rosalie Bergeron seems to have been a sought-after woman in the village. In this portrait, we see her at around 25, with Camille Soucy, who may have been her first boyfriend. Tall, smart in his suit and tie, relaxed, cigarette in hand and gazing into the camera, he is undoubtedly the star of this photo. Rosalie, who looks at him with interest and perhaps a little admiration, also looks very elegant. Are they dressed up for an outing somewhere? On the same day, the couple poses in the orchard, looking into each other’s eyes. Rosalie seems to have been very affected by this short-lived relationship, and she kept this photo in a small, heart-shaped box.
In this photograph, Rosalie Bergeron is 27 years old. At this age, she was already a resourceful young woman who had been seeking financial independence for some time. Her very first job was selling beauty products. Looking at this Hollywood-style portrait, we can imagine that Rosalie liked to keep up with the latest fashions. Marie-Alice Dumont, taking the photograph, was the same—she produced a number of portraits in this style from the 1940s onwards.
Rosalie Bergeron was well loved by the Dumonts and had truly become one of the family. Before long, Alcide Dumont (1873–1949), Marie-Alice’s uncle, spotted in her a potential match for his son Lorenzo. He praised her “talents” and arranged a meeting. It looked like there was a spark! There was just one drawback: Lorenzo had no fixed employment and no home of his own. It was decided that the young couple would stay at Marie-Alice’s house until Lorenzo’s situation stabilized. Lorenzo eventually found work in a foundry in Sainte-Croix, Lotbinière, where the couple moved in October 1946. In the meantime, they did not waste any time: they married on April 23, 1945, and welcomed their first child, Céline, on January 26, 1946.
Shortly after their arrival in Sainte-Croix, the couple’s second child, Pierrette, was born. Here she is (left) with her mother and older sister, Céline. This is one of the last portraits Marie-Alice Dumont took of Rosalie. As can be seen here, Rosalie and her family lived quite comfortably in a big, beautiful house. The girls are dressed warmly for winter, and Rosalie wears a coat made entirely of fur—a great luxury. But, unfortunately, Rosalie was not happy. First, her husband Lorenzo had quit his job at the foundry because it was too hard on his health, and instead he was regularly working far from home. Rosalie also felt cut off from her family and friends, especially Marie-Alice and Napoléon. Her rheumatism did not help in the slightest. In fact, she had such pain in her legs that she had difficulty walking. Finally, to make matters worse, Rosalie developed heart problems at an early age. According to Napoléon, this was because she had “abused aspirin to relieve her suffering.” One day in February 1962, Céline, then aged 16, found her mother in her bedroom, having died suddenly at the age of just 45. It was a tragic end to Rosalie Bergeron’s story.
Rosalie soon settled into “her new home,” wrote Napoléon. After her first year at Saint-Alexandre, Uldéric and Marie were very attached to Rosalie and decided to officially adopt her. She took the opportunity to change her name. Her parents had named her Rosalia at birth, but everyone in the Dumont household called her Rosalie. According to Napoléon, she “was happy and loveable.” She became particularly fond of Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Still in their teens, Rosalie and Elizabeth stayed with the photographer and helped her with her studio work. The three seemed to form a close-knit trio. All three are pictured here, in front of the home and studio.
In this portrait, we can see the strong bond between Rosalie (left) and Elizabeth (right). Rosalie is about 12, and Elizabeth, about 15. The composition of the photo emphasizes the closeness of the two subjects: their heads are leaning against each other, their bodies are touching and their chairs are placed opposite one another. The shadow effect at the bottom of the image, combined with their dark clothing, contrasts with the glow that bathes the two faces. It is unlikely that the photographer retained all these details in the print, but the final portrait would surely give a sense of softness and tenderness.
When she arrived in Saint-Alexandre, Rosalie attended the local convent school. Here, nuns prepared young girls like her for adult life. At school, Rosalie met Blanche Landry (right), who became her best friend. The difficulties they experienced as children seemed to bring them so close that they felt like sisters. They were inseparable and saw each other almost every day. They are about 18 to 20 years old in this photo.
Rosalie Bergeron and Blanche Landry spent time together at school, at home and in the Jeunesse étudiante catholique féminine (JECF), a Catholic girls’ group. They are both in the middle row of this photo: Blanche is first from the right, Rosalie fourth, near the centre. The JECF, founded in the mid-1930s under the supervision of the Catholic Church, was part of a Catholic Action movement that aimed to engage young people and proved very popular in Quebec. The Éclaireurs (or Scouts) were part of the same movement. The JECF focused on leisure activities, education and, above all, social involvement in the spirit of Christianity. During the economic crisis of the 1930s, JECF members like Rosalie and Blanche learned to organize, seeking solutions to problems of the time: misfortune, poverty, social injustice and the declining influence of the Catholic religion.
In this photo, taken in Marie-Alice Dumont’s orchard, Rosalie Bergeron appears with two nuns. Rosalie seems very interested in what they are doing. On February 14, 1934, at the tender age of 18, Rosalie entered the postulancy of the Sœurs dominicaines de l’Enfant-Jésus in Québec City, becoming a religious apprentice. But not everything goes according to plan. As it happened, Rosalie was not serious-minded enough to become a nun. A funny anecdote illustrates this very well: One day, Rosalie emptied the contents of a washbasin over the head of the Mother Superior, who annoyed her. In November, she returned to Saint-Alexandre, convinced that she did not have a religious calling after all.
On her return from the Dominican postulancy in November 1934, Rosalie was very “happy to get back to the old routines,” wrote Napoléon. This was good news for the Dumont family, too: Rosalie was determined, clean and tidy, and a good cook. It was not just Marie-Alice who was grateful for her help in the studio; everyone appreciated her spirit of hard work. This portrait is one of the first of Rosalie once she was firmly out of childhood and adolescence. Here, she is around 20 years old. Her makeup and hair are elegantly done, and she is wearing a more adult-style dress (it is fitted but still covers her legs). Although high school proms did not exist in Rosalie’s day, you would almost think that was where she was going! Here, Rosalie looks directly at the lens. This is in stark contrast to the portrait showing her embroidering. Altogether, the image is much more formal and conventional. Once again, Marie-Alice Dumont’s camera immortalizes a new stage in Rosalie’s life.
Young Rosalie Bergeron seems to have been a sought-after woman in the village. In this portrait, we see her at around 25, with Camille Soucy, who may have been her first boyfriend. Tall, smart in his suit and tie, relaxed, cigarette in hand and gazing into the camera, he is undoubtedly the star of this photo. Rosalie, who looks at him with interest and perhaps a little admiration, also looks very elegant. Are they dressed up for an outing somewhere? On the same day, the couple poses in the orchard, looking into each other’s eyes. Rosalie seems to have been very affected by this short-lived relationship, and she kept this photo in a small, heart-shaped box.
In this photograph, Rosalie Bergeron is 27 years old. At this age, she was already a resourceful young woman who had been seeking financial independence for some time. Her very first job was selling beauty products. Looking at this Hollywood-style portrait, we can imagine that Rosalie liked to keep up with the latest fashions. Marie-Alice Dumont, taking the photograph, was the same—she produced a number of portraits in this style from the 1940s onwards.
Rosalie Bergeron was well loved by the Dumonts and had truly become one of the family. Before long, Alcide Dumont (1873–1949), Marie-Alice’s uncle, spotted in her a potential match for his son Lorenzo. He praised her “talents” and arranged a meeting. It looked like there was a spark! There was just one drawback: Lorenzo had no fixed employment and no home of his own. It was decided that the young couple would stay at Marie-Alice’s house until Lorenzo’s situation stabilized. Lorenzo eventually found work in a foundry in Sainte-Croix, Lotbinière, where the couple moved in October 1946. In the meantime, they did not waste any time: they married on April 23, 1945, and welcomed their first child, Céline, on January 26, 1946.
Shortly after their arrival in Sainte-Croix, the couple’s second child, Pierrette, was born. Here she is (left) with her mother and older sister, Céline. This is one of the last portraits Marie-Alice Dumont took of Rosalie. As can be seen here, Rosalie and her family lived quite comfortably in a big, beautiful house. The girls are dressed warmly for winter, and Rosalie wears a coat made entirely of fur—a great luxury. But, unfortunately, Rosalie was not happy. First, her husband Lorenzo had quit his job at the foundry because it was too hard on his health, and instead he was regularly working far from home. Rosalie also felt cut off from her family and friends, especially Marie-Alice and Napoléon. Her rheumatism did not help in the slightest. In fact, she had such pain in her legs that she had difficulty walking. Finally, to make matters worse, Rosalie developed heart problems at an early age. According to Napoléon, this was because she had “abused aspirin to relieve her suffering.” One day in February 1962, Céline, then aged 16, found her mother in her bedroom, having died suddenly at the age of just 45. It was a tragic end to Rosalie Bergeron’s story.
Rosalie soon settled into “her new home,” wrote Napoléon. After her first year at Saint-Alexandre, Uldéric and Marie were very attached to Rosalie and decided to officially adopt her. She took the opportunity to change her name. Her parents had named her Rosalia at birth, but everyone in the Dumont household called her Rosalie. According to Napoléon, she “was happy and loveable.” She became particularly fond of Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Still in their teens, Rosalie and Elizabeth stayed with the photographer and helped her with her studio work. The three seemed to form a close-knit trio. All three are pictured here, in front of the home and studio.
In this portrait, we can see the strong bond between Rosalie (left) and Elizabeth (right). Rosalie is about 12, and Elizabeth, about 15. The composition of the photo emphasizes the closeness of the two subjects: their heads are leaning against each other, their bodies are touching and their chairs are placed opposite one another. The shadow effect at the bottom of the image, combined with their dark clothing, contrasts with the glow that bathes the two faces. It is unlikely that the photographer retained all these details in the print, but the final portrait would surely give a sense of softness and tenderness.
When she arrived in Saint-Alexandre, Rosalie attended the local convent school. Here, nuns prepared young girls like her for adult life. At school, Rosalie met Blanche Landry (right), who became her best friend. The difficulties they experienced as children seemed to bring them so close that they felt like sisters. They were inseparable and saw each other almost every day. They are about 18 to 20 years old in this photo.
Rosalie Bergeron and Blanche Landry spent time together at school, at home and in the Jeunesse étudiante catholique féminine (JECF), a Catholic girls’ group. They are both in the middle row of this photo: Blanche is first from the right, Rosalie fourth, near the centre. The JECF, founded in the mid-1930s under the supervision of the Catholic Church, was part of a Catholic Action movement that aimed to engage young people and proved very popular in Quebec. The Éclaireurs (or Scouts) were part of the same movement. The JECF focused on leisure activities, education and, above all, social involvement in the spirit of Christianity. During the economic crisis of the 1930s, JECF members like Rosalie and Blanche learned to organize, seeking solutions to problems of the time: misfortune, poverty, social injustice and the declining influence of the Catholic religion.
In this photo, taken in Marie-Alice Dumont’s orchard, Rosalie Bergeron appears with two nuns. Rosalie seems very interested in what they are doing. On February 14, 1934, at the tender age of 18, Rosalie entered the postulancy of the Sœurs dominicaines de l’Enfant-Jésus in Québec City, becoming a religious apprentice. But not everything goes according to plan. As it happened, Rosalie was not serious-minded enough to become a nun. A funny anecdote illustrates this very well: One day, Rosalie emptied the contents of a washbasin over the head of the Mother Superior, who annoyed her. In November, she returned to Saint-Alexandre, convinced that she did not have a religious calling after all.
On her return from the Dominican postulancy in November 1934, Rosalie was very “happy to get back to the old routines,” wrote Napoléon. This was good news for the Dumont family, too: Rosalie was determined, clean and tidy, and a good cook. It was not just Marie-Alice who was grateful for her help in the studio; everyone appreciated her spirit of hard work. This portrait is one of the first of Rosalie once she was firmly out of childhood and adolescence. Here, she is around 20 years old. Her makeup and hair are elegantly done, and she is wearing a more adult-style dress (it is fitted but still covers her legs). Although high school proms did not exist in Rosalie’s day, you would almost think that was where she was going! Here, Rosalie looks directly at the lens. This is in stark contrast to the portrait showing her embroidering. Altogether, the image is much more formal and conventional. Once again, Marie-Alice Dumont’s camera immortalizes a new stage in Rosalie’s life.
Young Rosalie Bergeron seems to have been a sought-after woman in the village. In this portrait, we see her at around 25, with Camille Soucy, who may have been her first boyfriend. Tall, smart in his suit and tie, relaxed, cigarette in hand and gazing into the camera, he is undoubtedly the star of this photo. Rosalie, who looks at him with interest and perhaps a little admiration, also looks very elegant. Are they dressed up for an outing somewhere? On the same day, the couple poses in the orchard, looking into each other’s eyes. Rosalie seems to have been very affected by this short-lived relationship, and she kept this photo in a small, heart-shaped box.
In this photograph, Rosalie Bergeron is 27 years old. At this age, she was already a resourceful young woman who had been seeking financial independence for some time. Her very first job was selling beauty products. Looking at this Hollywood-style portrait, we can imagine that Rosalie liked to keep up with the latest fashions. Marie-Alice Dumont, taking the photograph, was the same—she produced a number of portraits in this style from the 1940s onwards.
Rosalie Bergeron was well loved by the Dumonts and had truly become one of the family. Before long, Alcide Dumont (1873–1949), Marie-Alice’s uncle, spotted in her a potential match for his son Lorenzo. He praised her “talents” and arranged a meeting. It looked like there was a spark! There was just one drawback: Lorenzo had no fixed employment and no home of his own. It was decided that the young couple would stay at Marie-Alice’s house until Lorenzo’s situation stabilized. Lorenzo eventually found work in a foundry in Sainte-Croix, Lotbinière, where the couple moved in October 1946. In the meantime, they did not waste any time: they married on April 23, 1945, and welcomed their first child, Céline, on January 26, 1946.
Shortly after their arrival in Sainte-Croix, the couple’s second child, Pierrette, was born. Here she is (left) with her mother and older sister, Céline. This is one of the last portraits Marie-Alice Dumont took of Rosalie. As can be seen here, Rosalie and her family lived quite comfortably in a big, beautiful house. The girls are dressed warmly for winter, and Rosalie wears a coat made entirely of fur—a great luxury. But, unfortunately, Rosalie was not happy. First, her husband Lorenzo had quit his job at the foundry because it was too hard on his health, and instead he was regularly working far from home. Rosalie also felt cut off from her family and friends, especially Marie-Alice and Napoléon. Her rheumatism did not help in the slightest. In fact, she had such pain in her legs that she had difficulty walking. Finally, to make matters worse, Rosalie developed heart problems at an early age. According to Napoléon, this was because she had “abused aspirin to relieve her suffering.” One day in February 1962, Céline, then aged 16, found her mother in her bedroom, having died suddenly at the age of just 45. It was a tragic end to Rosalie Bergeron’s story.
Rosalie soon settled into “her new home,” wrote Napoléon. After her first year at Saint-Alexandre, Uldéric and Marie were very attached to Rosalie and decided to officially adopt her. She took the opportunity to change her name. Her parents had named her Rosalia at birth, but everyone in the Dumont household called her Rosalie. According to Napoléon, she “was happy and loveable.” She became particularly fond of Marie-Alice and Elizabeth. Still in their teens, Rosalie and Elizabeth stayed with the photographer and helped her with her studio work. The three seemed to form a close-knit trio. All three are pictured here, in front of the home and studio.
In this portrait, we can see the strong bond between Rosalie (left) and Elizabeth (right). Rosalie is about 12, and Elizabeth, about 15. The composition of the photo emphasizes the closeness of the two subjects: their heads are leaning against each other, their bodies are touching and their chairs are placed opposite one another. The shadow effect at the bottom of the image, combined with their dark clothing, contrasts with the glow that bathes the two faces. It is unlikely that the photographer retained all these details in the print, but the final portrait would surely give a sense of softness and tenderness.
When she arrived in Saint-Alexandre, Rosalie attended the local convent school. Here, nuns prepared young girls like her for adult life. At school, Rosalie met Blanche Landry (right), who became her best friend. The difficulties they experienced as children seemed to bring them so close that they felt like sisters. They were inseparable and saw each other almost every day. They are about 18 to 20 years old in this photo.
Rosalie Bergeron and Blanche Landry spent time together at school, at home and in the Jeunesse étudiante catholique féminine (JECF), a Catholic girls’ group. They are both in the middle row of this photo: Blanche is first from the right, Rosalie fourth, near the centre. The JECF, founded in the mid-1930s under the supervision of the Catholic Church, was part of a Catholic Action movement that aimed to engage young people and proved very popular in Quebec. The Éclaireurs (or Scouts) were part of the same movement. The JECF focused on leisure activities, education and, above all, social involvement in the spirit of Christianity. During the economic crisis of the 1930s, JECF members like Rosalie and Blanche learned to organize, seeking solutions to problems of the time: misfortune, poverty, social injustice and the declining influence of the Catholic religion.
In this photo, taken in Marie-Alice Dumont’s orchard, Rosalie Bergeron appears with two nuns. Rosalie seems very interested in what they are doing. On February 14, 1934, at the tender age of 18, Rosalie entered the postulancy of the Sœurs dominicaines de l’Enfant-Jésus in Québec City, becoming a religious apprentice. But not everything goes according to plan. As it happened, Rosalie was not serious-minded enough to become a nun. A funny anecdote illustrates this very well: One day, Rosalie emptied the contents of a washbasin over the head of the Mother Superior, who annoyed her. In November, she returned to Saint-Alexandre, convinced that she did not have a religious calling after all.
On her return from the Dominican postulancy in November 1934, Rosalie was very “happy to get back to the old routines,” wrote Napoléon. This was good news for the Dumont family, too: Rosalie was determined, clean and tidy, and a good cook. It was not just Marie-Alice who was grateful for her help in the studio; everyone appreciated her spirit of hard work. This portrait is one of the first of Rosalie once she was firmly out of childhood and adolescence. Here, she is around 20 years old. Her makeup and hair are elegantly done, and she is wearing a more adult-style dress (it is fitted but still covers her legs). Although high school proms did not exist in Rosalie’s day, you would almost think that was where she was going! Here, Rosalie looks directly at the lens. This is in stark contrast to the portrait showing her embroidering. Altogether, the image is much more formal and conventional. Once again, Marie-Alice Dumont’s camera immortalizes a new stage in Rosalie’s life.
Young Rosalie Bergeron seems to have been a sought-after woman in the village. In this portrait, we see her at around 25, with Camille Soucy, who may have been her first boyfriend. Tall, smart in his suit and tie, relaxed, cigarette in hand and gazing into the camera, he is undoubtedly the star of this photo. Rosalie, who looks at him with interest and perhaps a little admiration, also looks very elegant. Are they dressed up for an outing somewhere? On the same day, the couple poses in the orchard, looking into each other’s eyes. Rosalie seems to have been very affected by this short-lived relationship, and she kept this photo in a small, heart-shaped box.
In this photograph, Rosalie Bergeron is 27 years old. At this age, she was already a resourceful young woman who had been seeking financial independence for some time. Her very first job was selling beauty products. Looking at this Hollywood-style portrait, we can imagine that Rosalie liked to keep up with the latest fashions. Marie-Alice Dumont, taking the photograph, was the same—she produced a number of portraits in this style from the 1940s onwards.
Rosalie Bergeron was well loved by the Dumonts and had truly become one of the family. Before long, Alcide Dumont (1873–1949), Marie-Alice’s uncle, spotted in her a potential match for his son Lorenzo. He praised her “talents” and arranged a meeting. It looked like there was a spark! There was just one drawback: Lorenzo had no fixed employment and no home of his own. It was decided that the young couple would stay at Marie-Alice’s house until Lorenzo’s situation stabilized. Lorenzo eventually found work in a foundry in Sainte-Croix, Lotbinière, where the couple moved in October 1946. In the meantime, they did not waste any time: they married on April 23, 1945, and welcomed their first child, Céline, on January 26, 1946.
Shortly after their arrival in Sainte-Croix, the couple’s second child, Pierrette, was born. Here she is (left) with her mother and older sister, Céline. This is one of the last portraits Marie-Alice Dumont took of Rosalie. As can be seen here, Rosalie and her family lived quite comfortably in a big, beautiful house. The girls are dressed warmly for winter, and Rosalie wears a coat made entirely of fur—a great luxury. But, unfortunately, Rosalie was not happy. First, her husband Lorenzo had quit his job at the foundry because it was too hard on his health, and instead he was regularly working far from home. Rosalie also felt cut off from her family and friends, especially Marie-Alice and Napoléon. Her rheumatism did not help in the slightest. In fact, she had such pain in her legs that she had difficulty walking. Finally, to make matters worse, Rosalie developed heart problems at an early age. According to Napoléon, this was because she had “abused aspirin to relieve her suffering.” One day in February 1962, Céline, then aged 16, found her mother in her bedroom, having died suddenly at the age of just 45. It was a tragic end to Rosalie Bergeron’s story.
Marie-Alice’s older brother, François, and her younger brother, Joseph-Napoléon, just three years her junior, were also frequent subjects of her photography. Marie-Alice remained close to her brothers throughout her life.
In this studio portrait, Marie-Alice Dumont’s younger brother, Joseph-Napoléon, is approaching the age of 55. After more than 30 years in the priesthood, the time for retirement was fast approaching. Napoleon would soon have plenty of time to gather his archives and to write his memoirs and family history. What a wealth of information and anecdotes he left us!
The special bond she shared with certain members of her extended family also stands out, especially with her nephew Origène Dumont, and his wife, Daria Lavoie.
When Marie-Alice moved into a retirement home, it was Origène and Daria who took over the family home and studio. Today, Daria acts as the guardian of “Auntie Alice’s” legacy.
“She had a wonderful personality. She was wise, always smiling, a little quirky. She was an artist, the photographer of the village, respected by everyone.”
Art historian and photographer Madeleine Marcil sits down with Daria Dumont, who keeps the memory of her husband’s aunt, Marie-Alice Dumont, alive.
Joseph-Napoléon Dumont made many friends during his time at the Collège de la Pocatière. He is shown here (right) with a classmate, François-Xavier Létourneau. Shy, serious and very kind, François-Xavier certainly made an impression on his classmates, but especially because of his height! As you can see, he stands a head taller than Napoléon, and looks to be at least seven feet tall. Father Létourneau visited Saint-Alexandre-de-Kamouraska in 1924, but only briefly, as he was a missionary in Africa. He was a member of the White Fathers, as we can see from his clothing, which includes a large white cassock and a black and white cross worn around his neck. Like several hundred other Quebecers at the time (and still today), Father Létourneau devoted his life to the evangelization of the African continent. But his story does not have a happy ending. When he left college in 1919 (he was 23 or 24 at the time), he decided to become a missionary. After several years in Algiers (Algeria) and Carthage (Tunisia), he found himself at the Bolgatanga mission station in Ghana. He was there just over two years before he drowned in early August 1927, at just 30 years old. This portrait of Father Létourneau by Marie-Alice Dumont, along with another in which he poses alone in the studio, are perhaps the only existing photos of him.
This portrait shows the family of Marie-Alice Dumont’s older brother. François Dumont (1887–1981) stands beside his second wife, Mary April (1889–1968). They are both around 40 years old. The taller of the two boys is named Félix. He was about 12 years old, the child of François’s first marriage to Délima Sirois, who died young of dropsy. The youngest is Yvan, aged around five. Not in the photo is Origène, who isn’t born yet, although probably in his mother’s womb when this photo was taken. The family poses in a domestic setting, perhaps their own home, the former house of Marie-Alice Dumont’s parents on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre.
François Dumont and Mary April were married on February 13, 1917. They were photographed here by Marie-Alice Dumont when they were about 65 years old. They had always lived in the Dumont family home on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. In biographical notes, Joseph-Napoléon describes Mary as “brave, very pious, thrifty and hard-working,” all “qualities” that helped the family “get through the difficult period of the economic crisis of the thirties.” Napoléon’s assessment of his older brother François is equally admiring: a good Catholic, excellent at Gregorian chant, generous, a resilient and prosperous farmer. François inherited his father’s land in 1926, when his parents moved to the village with their daughters.
Little Origène is posed here at barely a year old. Note the blurry shot: it is not easy to photograph a baby of this age without them moving! The photographer, who was still learning at the time, might have had more luck by increasing the shutter speed on her Kodak. Or perhaps the blurred effect was intended?
This little niece of Marie-Alice Dumont seems to be enjoying her time in front of the camera! Still a baby, she is sitting on an armchair that the photographer had brought out of her studio for the occasion. Was this before electricity was installed in the studio in 1929? Perhaps there was not enough light inside to take the portrait.
This group was gathered in front of the Saint-Alexandre church for the 1948 wedding of Thérèse Massé and Yvan Dumont, nephew of Marie-Alice Dumont. Yvan worked as a farm manager for various women’s religious communities. Also present in this group are Yvan’s parents (Mary and François, in the left foreground) and his brother and sister-in-law (Origène and Daria, in the third row, to the left).
In this semi-successful shot (was it developed by Marie-Alice Dumont, or did she take it herself?), Origène Dumont and Daria Lavoie pose with their eldest daughter, Françoise, and a couple of close friends. Their wedding comes with an interesting story: On July 15, 1947, they were married in Saint-Denis-de-Kamouraska, along with two of Daria’s sisters and one of her brothers. That means four children from the same family were married in the same ceremony!
This beautiful bust portrait is of Georgette Ouellet (1923–2016), aged about 20. Another niece of Marie-Alice Dumont, Georgette was the eighth of 16 siblings, 15 of whom reached adulthood. She married Gilles Caron of Trois-Rivières in 1956.
There are many multi-generational portraits of women in the archives left by Marie-Alice Dumont. Here, her niece Marie-Jeanne Ouellet holds her baby daughter and poses with her mother Émilia Dumont and grandmother Marie Pelletier. The grandmother is seated in a large, carved wooden chair, the grandest seat in the image. The figures carved on either side of the backrest were said to frighten children, who nicknamed it the “Devil’s Chair.”
Joseph-Napoléon Dumont made many friends during his time at the Collège de la Pocatière. He is shown here (right) with a classmate, François-Xavier Létourneau. Shy, serious and very kind, François-Xavier certainly made an impression on his classmates, but especially because of his height! As you can see, he stands a head taller than Napoléon, and looks to be at least seven feet tall. Father Létourneau visited Saint-Alexandre-de-Kamouraska in 1924, but only briefly, as he was a missionary in Africa. He was a member of the White Fathers, as we can see from his clothing, which includes a large white cassock and a black and white cross worn around his neck. Like several hundred other Quebecers at the time (and still today), Father Létourneau devoted his life to the evangelization of the African continent. But his story does not have a happy ending. When he left college in 1919 (he was 23 or 24 at the time), he decided to become a missionary. After several years in Algiers (Algeria) and Carthage (Tunisia), he found himself at the Bolgatanga mission station in Ghana. He was there just over two years before he drowned in early August 1927, at just 30 years old. This portrait of Father Létourneau by Marie-Alice Dumont, along with another in which he poses alone in the studio, are perhaps the only existing photos of him.
This portrait shows the family of Marie-Alice Dumont’s older brother. François Dumont (1887–1981) stands beside his second wife, Mary April (1889–1968). They are both around 40 years old. The taller of the two boys is named Félix. He was about 12 years old, the child of François’s first marriage to Délima Sirois, who died young of dropsy. The youngest is Yvan, aged around five. Not in the photo is Origène, who isn’t born yet, although probably in his mother’s womb when this photo was taken. The family poses in a domestic setting, perhaps their own home, the former house of Marie-Alice Dumont’s parents on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre.
François Dumont and Mary April were married on February 13, 1917. They were photographed here by Marie-Alice Dumont when they were about 65 years old. They had always lived in the Dumont family home on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. In biographical notes, Joseph-Napoléon describes Mary as “brave, very pious, thrifty and hard-working,” all “qualities” that helped the family “get through the difficult period of the economic crisis of the thirties.” Napoléon’s assessment of his older brother François is equally admiring: a good Catholic, excellent at Gregorian chant, generous, a resilient and prosperous farmer. François inherited his father’s land in 1926, when his parents moved to the village with their daughters.
Little Origène is posed here at barely a year old. Note the blurry shot: it is not easy to photograph a baby of this age without them moving! The photographer, who was still learning at the time, might have had more luck by increasing the shutter speed on her Kodak. Or perhaps the blurred effect was intended?
This little niece of Marie-Alice Dumont seems to be enjoying her time in front of the camera! Still a baby, she is sitting on an armchair that the photographer had brought out of her studio for the occasion. Was this before electricity was installed in the studio in 1929? Perhaps there was not enough light inside to take the portrait.
This group was gathered in front of the Saint-Alexandre church for the 1948 wedding of Thérèse Massé and Yvan Dumont, nephew of Marie-Alice Dumont. Yvan worked as a farm manager for various women’s religious communities. Also present in this group are Yvan’s parents (Mary and François, in the left foreground) and his brother and sister-in-law (Origène and Daria, in the third row, to the left).
In this semi-successful shot (was it developed by Marie-Alice Dumont, or did she take it herself?), Origène Dumont and Daria Lavoie pose with their eldest daughter, Françoise, and a couple of close friends. Their wedding comes with an interesting story: On July 15, 1947, they were married in Saint-Denis-de-Kamouraska, along with two of Daria’s sisters and one of her brothers. That means four children from the same family were married in the same ceremony!
This beautiful bust portrait is of Georgette Ouellet (1923–2016), aged about 20. Another niece of Marie-Alice Dumont, Georgette was the eighth of 16 siblings, 15 of whom reached adulthood. She married Gilles Caron of Trois-Rivières in 1956.
There are many multi-generational portraits of women in the archives left by Marie-Alice Dumont. Here, her niece Marie-Jeanne Ouellet holds her baby daughter and poses with her mother Émilia Dumont and grandmother Marie Pelletier. The grandmother is seated in a large, carved wooden chair, the grandest seat in the image. The figures carved on either side of the backrest were said to frighten children, who nicknamed it the “Devil’s Chair.”
Joseph-Napoléon Dumont made many friends during his time at the Collège de la Pocatière. He is shown here (right) with a classmate, François-Xavier Létourneau. Shy, serious and very kind, François-Xavier certainly made an impression on his classmates, but especially because of his height! As you can see, he stands a head taller than Napoléon, and looks to be at least seven feet tall. Father Létourneau visited Saint-Alexandre-de-Kamouraska in 1924, but only briefly, as he was a missionary in Africa. He was a member of the White Fathers, as we can see from his clothing, which includes a large white cassock and a black and white cross worn around his neck. Like several hundred other Quebecers at the time (and still today), Father Létourneau devoted his life to the evangelization of the African continent. But his story does not have a happy ending. When he left college in 1919 (he was 23 or 24 at the time), he decided to become a missionary. After several years in Algiers (Algeria) and Carthage (Tunisia), he found himself at the Bolgatanga mission station in Ghana. He was there just over two years before he drowned in early August 1927, at just 30 years old. This portrait of Father Létourneau by Marie-Alice Dumont, along with another in which he poses alone in the studio, are perhaps the only existing photos of him.
This portrait shows the family of Marie-Alice Dumont’s older brother. François Dumont (1887–1981) stands beside his second wife, Mary April (1889–1968). They are both around 40 years old. The taller of the two boys is named Félix. He was about 12 years old, the child of François’s first marriage to Délima Sirois, who died young of dropsy. The youngest is Yvan, aged around five. Not in the photo is Origène, who isn’t born yet, although probably in his mother’s womb when this photo was taken. The family poses in a domestic setting, perhaps their own home, the former house of Marie-Alice Dumont’s parents on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre.
François Dumont and Mary April were married on February 13, 1917. They were photographed here by Marie-Alice Dumont when they were about 65 years old. They had always lived in the Dumont family home on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. In biographical notes, Joseph-Napoléon describes Mary as “brave, very pious, thrifty and hard-working,” all “qualities” that helped the family “get through the difficult period of the economic crisis of the thirties.” Napoléon’s assessment of his older brother François is equally admiring: a good Catholic, excellent at Gregorian chant, generous, a resilient and prosperous farmer. François inherited his father’s land in 1926, when his parents moved to the village with their daughters.
Little Origène is posed here at barely a year old. Note the blurry shot: it is not easy to photograph a baby of this age without them moving! The photographer, who was still learning at the time, might have had more luck by increasing the shutter speed on her Kodak. Or perhaps the blurred effect was intended?
This little niece of Marie-Alice Dumont seems to be enjoying her time in front of the camera! Still a baby, she is sitting on an armchair that the photographer had brought out of her studio for the occasion. Was this before electricity was installed in the studio in 1929? Perhaps there was not enough light inside to take the portrait.
This group was gathered in front of the Saint-Alexandre church for the 1948 wedding of Thérèse Massé and Yvan Dumont, nephew of Marie-Alice Dumont. Yvan worked as a farm manager for various women’s religious communities. Also present in this group are Yvan’s parents (Mary and François, in the left foreground) and his brother and sister-in-law (Origène and Daria, in the third row, to the left).
In this semi-successful shot (was it developed by Marie-Alice Dumont, or did she take it herself?), Origène Dumont and Daria Lavoie pose with their eldest daughter, Françoise, and a couple of close friends. Their wedding comes with an interesting story: On July 15, 1947, they were married in Saint-Denis-de-Kamouraska, along with two of Daria’s sisters and one of her brothers. That means four children from the same family were married in the same ceremony!
This beautiful bust portrait is of Georgette Ouellet (1923–2016), aged about 20. Another niece of Marie-Alice Dumont, Georgette was the eighth of 16 siblings, 15 of whom reached adulthood. She married Gilles Caron of Trois-Rivières in 1956.
There are many multi-generational portraits of women in the archives left by Marie-Alice Dumont. Here, her niece Marie-Jeanne Ouellet holds her baby daughter and poses with her mother Émilia Dumont and grandmother Marie Pelletier. The grandmother is seated in a large, carved wooden chair, the grandest seat in the image. The figures carved on either side of the backrest were said to frighten children, who nicknamed it the “Devil’s Chair.”
Joseph-Napoléon Dumont made many friends during his time at the Collège de la Pocatière. He is shown here (right) with a classmate, François-Xavier Létourneau. Shy, serious and very kind, François-Xavier certainly made an impression on his classmates, but especially because of his height! As you can see, he stands a head taller than Napoléon, and looks to be at least seven feet tall. Father Létourneau visited Saint-Alexandre-de-Kamouraska in 1924, but only briefly, as he was a missionary in Africa. He was a member of the White Fathers, as we can see from his clothing, which includes a large white cassock and a black and white cross worn around his neck. Like several hundred other Quebecers at the time (and still today), Father Létourneau devoted his life to the evangelization of the African continent. But his story does not have a happy ending. When he left college in 1919 (he was 23 or 24 at the time), he decided to become a missionary. After several years in Algiers (Algeria) and Carthage (Tunisia), he found himself at the Bolgatanga mission station in Ghana. He was there just over two years before he drowned in early August 1927, at just 30 years old. This portrait of Father Létourneau by Marie-Alice Dumont, along with another in which he poses alone in the studio, are perhaps the only existing photos of him.
This portrait shows the family of Marie-Alice Dumont’s older brother. François Dumont (1887–1981) stands beside his second wife, Mary April (1889–1968). They are both around 40 years old. The taller of the two boys is named Félix. He was about 12 years old, the child of François’s first marriage to Délima Sirois, who died young of dropsy. The youngest is Yvan, aged around five. Not in the photo is Origène, who isn’t born yet, although probably in his mother’s womb when this photo was taken. The family poses in a domestic setting, perhaps their own home, the former house of Marie-Alice Dumont’s parents on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre.
François Dumont and Mary April were married on February 13, 1917. They were photographed here by Marie-Alice Dumont when they were about 65 years old. They had always lived in the Dumont family home on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. In biographical notes, Joseph-Napoléon describes Mary as “brave, very pious, thrifty and hard-working,” all “qualities” that helped the family “get through the difficult period of the economic crisis of the thirties.” Napoléon’s assessment of his older brother François is equally admiring: a good Catholic, excellent at Gregorian chant, generous, a resilient and prosperous farmer. François inherited his father’s land in 1926, when his parents moved to the village with their daughters.
Little Origène is posed here at barely a year old. Note the blurry shot: it is not easy to photograph a baby of this age without them moving! The photographer, who was still learning at the time, might have had more luck by increasing the shutter speed on her Kodak. Or perhaps the blurred effect was intended?
This little niece of Marie-Alice Dumont seems to be enjoying her time in front of the camera! Still a baby, she is sitting on an armchair that the photographer had brought out of her studio for the occasion. Was this before electricity was installed in the studio in 1929? Perhaps there was not enough light inside to take the portrait.
This group was gathered in front of the Saint-Alexandre church for the 1948 wedding of Thérèse Massé and Yvan Dumont, nephew of Marie-Alice Dumont. Yvan worked as a farm manager for various women’s religious communities. Also present in this group are Yvan’s parents (Mary and François, in the left foreground) and his brother and sister-in-law (Origène and Daria, in the third row, to the left).
In this semi-successful shot (was it developed by Marie-Alice Dumont, or did she take it herself?), Origène Dumont and Daria Lavoie pose with their eldest daughter, Françoise, and a couple of close friends. Their wedding comes with an interesting story: On July 15, 1947, they were married in Saint-Denis-de-Kamouraska, along with two of Daria’s sisters and one of her brothers. That means four children from the same family were married in the same ceremony!
This beautiful bust portrait is of Georgette Ouellet (1923–2016), aged about 20. Another niece of Marie-Alice Dumont, Georgette was the eighth of 16 siblings, 15 of whom reached adulthood. She married Gilles Caron of Trois-Rivières in 1956.
There are many multi-generational portraits of women in the archives left by Marie-Alice Dumont. Here, her niece Marie-Jeanne Ouellet holds her baby daughter and poses with her mother Émilia Dumont and grandmother Marie Pelletier. The grandmother is seated in a large, carved wooden chair, the grandest seat in the image. The figures carved on either side of the backrest were said to frighten children, who nicknamed it the “Devil’s Chair.”
Joseph-Napoléon Dumont made many friends during his time at the Collège de la Pocatière. He is shown here (right) with a classmate, François-Xavier Létourneau. Shy, serious and very kind, François-Xavier certainly made an impression on his classmates, but especially because of his height! As you can see, he stands a head taller than Napoléon, and looks to be at least seven feet tall. Father Létourneau visited Saint-Alexandre-de-Kamouraska in 1924, but only briefly, as he was a missionary in Africa. He was a member of the White Fathers, as we can see from his clothing, which includes a large white cassock and a black and white cross worn around his neck. Like several hundred other Quebecers at the time (and still today), Father Létourneau devoted his life to the evangelization of the African continent. But his story does not have a happy ending. When he left college in 1919 (he was 23 or 24 at the time), he decided to become a missionary. After several years in Algiers (Algeria) and Carthage (Tunisia), he found himself at the Bolgatanga mission station in Ghana. He was there just over two years before he drowned in early August 1927, at just 30 years old. This portrait of Father Létourneau by Marie-Alice Dumont, along with another in which he poses alone in the studio, are perhaps the only existing photos of him.
This portrait shows the family of Marie-Alice Dumont’s older brother. François Dumont (1887–1981) stands beside his second wife, Mary April (1889–1968). They are both around 40 years old. The taller of the two boys is named Félix. He was about 12 years old, the child of François’s first marriage to Délima Sirois, who died young of dropsy. The youngest is Yvan, aged around five. Not in the photo is Origène, who isn’t born yet, although probably in his mother’s womb when this photo was taken. The family poses in a domestic setting, perhaps their own home, the former house of Marie-Alice Dumont’s parents on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre.
François Dumont and Mary April were married on February 13, 1917. They were photographed here by Marie-Alice Dumont when they were about 65 years old. They had always lived in the Dumont family home on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. In biographical notes, Joseph-Napoléon describes Mary as “brave, very pious, thrifty and hard-working,” all “qualities” that helped the family “get through the difficult period of the economic crisis of the thirties.” Napoléon’s assessment of his older brother François is equally admiring: a good Catholic, excellent at Gregorian chant, generous, a resilient and prosperous farmer. François inherited his father’s land in 1926, when his parents moved to the village with their daughters.
Little Origène is posed here at barely a year old. Note the blurry shot: it is not easy to photograph a baby of this age without them moving! The photographer, who was still learning at the time, might have had more luck by increasing the shutter speed on her Kodak. Or perhaps the blurred effect was intended?
This little niece of Marie-Alice Dumont seems to be enjoying her time in front of the camera! Still a baby, she is sitting on an armchair that the photographer had brought out of her studio for the occasion. Was this before electricity was installed in the studio in 1929? Perhaps there was not enough light inside to take the portrait.
This group was gathered in front of the Saint-Alexandre church for the 1948 wedding of Thérèse Massé and Yvan Dumont, nephew of Marie-Alice Dumont. Yvan worked as a farm manager for various women’s religious communities. Also present in this group are Yvan’s parents (Mary and François, in the left foreground) and his brother and sister-in-law (Origène and Daria, in the third row, to the left).
In this semi-successful shot (was it developed by Marie-Alice Dumont, or did she take it herself?), Origène Dumont and Daria Lavoie pose with their eldest daughter, Françoise, and a couple of close friends. Their wedding comes with an interesting story: On July 15, 1947, they were married in Saint-Denis-de-Kamouraska, along with two of Daria’s sisters and one of her brothers. That means four children from the same family were married in the same ceremony!
This beautiful bust portrait is of Georgette Ouellet (1923–2016), aged about 20. Another niece of Marie-Alice Dumont, Georgette was the eighth of 16 siblings, 15 of whom reached adulthood. She married Gilles Caron of Trois-Rivières in 1956.
There are many multi-generational portraits of women in the archives left by Marie-Alice Dumont. Here, her niece Marie-Jeanne Ouellet holds her baby daughter and poses with her mother Émilia Dumont and grandmother Marie Pelletier. The grandmother is seated in a large, carved wooden chair, the grandest seat in the image. The figures carved on either side of the backrest were said to frighten children, who nicknamed it the “Devil’s Chair.”
Joseph-Napoléon Dumont made many friends during his time at the Collège de la Pocatière. He is shown here (right) with a classmate, François-Xavier Létourneau. Shy, serious and very kind, François-Xavier certainly made an impression on his classmates, but especially because of his height! As you can see, he stands a head taller than Napoléon, and looks to be at least seven feet tall. Father Létourneau visited Saint-Alexandre-de-Kamouraska in 1924, but only briefly, as he was a missionary in Africa. He was a member of the White Fathers, as we can see from his clothing, which includes a large white cassock and a black and white cross worn around his neck. Like several hundred other Quebecers at the time (and still today), Father Létourneau devoted his life to the evangelization of the African continent. But his story does not have a happy ending. When he left college in 1919 (he was 23 or 24 at the time), he decided to become a missionary. After several years in Algiers (Algeria) and Carthage (Tunisia), he found himself at the Bolgatanga mission station in Ghana. He was there just over two years before he drowned in early August 1927, at just 30 years old. This portrait of Father Létourneau by Marie-Alice Dumont, along with another in which he poses alone in the studio, are perhaps the only existing photos of him.
This portrait shows the family of Marie-Alice Dumont’s older brother. François Dumont (1887–1981) stands beside his second wife, Mary April (1889–1968). They are both around 40 years old. The taller of the two boys is named Félix. He was about 12 years old, the child of François’s first marriage to Délima Sirois, who died young of dropsy. The youngest is Yvan, aged around five. Not in the photo is Origène, who isn’t born yet, although probably in his mother’s womb when this photo was taken. The family poses in a domestic setting, perhaps their own home, the former house of Marie-Alice Dumont’s parents on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre.
François Dumont and Mary April were married on February 13, 1917. They were photographed here by Marie-Alice Dumont when they were about 65 years old. They had always lived in the Dumont family home on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. In biographical notes, Joseph-Napoléon describes Mary as “brave, very pious, thrifty and hard-working,” all “qualities” that helped the family “get through the difficult period of the economic crisis of the thirties.” Napoléon’s assessment of his older brother François is equally admiring: a good Catholic, excellent at Gregorian chant, generous, a resilient and prosperous farmer. François inherited his father’s land in 1926, when his parents moved to the village with their daughters.
Little Origène is posed here at barely a year old. Note the blurry shot: it is not easy to photograph a baby of this age without them moving! The photographer, who was still learning at the time, might have had more luck by increasing the shutter speed on her Kodak. Or perhaps the blurred effect was intended?
This little niece of Marie-Alice Dumont seems to be enjoying her time in front of the camera! Still a baby, she is sitting on an armchair that the photographer had brought out of her studio for the occasion. Was this before electricity was installed in the studio in 1929? Perhaps there was not enough light inside to take the portrait.
This group was gathered in front of the Saint-Alexandre church for the 1948 wedding of Thérèse Massé and Yvan Dumont, nephew of Marie-Alice Dumont. Yvan worked as a farm manager for various women’s religious communities. Also present in this group are Yvan’s parents (Mary and François, in the left foreground) and his brother and sister-in-law (Origène and Daria, in the third row, to the left).
In this semi-successful shot (was it developed by Marie-Alice Dumont, or did she take it herself?), Origène Dumont and Daria Lavoie pose with their eldest daughter, Françoise, and a couple of close friends. Their wedding comes with an interesting story: On July 15, 1947, they were married in Saint-Denis-de-Kamouraska, along with two of Daria’s sisters and one of her brothers. That means four children from the same family were married in the same ceremony!
This beautiful bust portrait is of Georgette Ouellet (1923–2016), aged about 20. Another niece of Marie-Alice Dumont, Georgette was the eighth of 16 siblings, 15 of whom reached adulthood. She married Gilles Caron of Trois-Rivières in 1956.
There are many multi-generational portraits of women in the archives left by Marie-Alice Dumont. Here, her niece Marie-Jeanne Ouellet holds her baby daughter and poses with her mother Émilia Dumont and grandmother Marie Pelletier. The grandmother is seated in a large, carved wooden chair, the grandest seat in the image. The figures carved on either side of the backrest were said to frighten children, who nicknamed it the “Devil’s Chair.”
Joseph-Napoléon Dumont made many friends during his time at the Collège de la Pocatière. He is shown here (right) with a classmate, François-Xavier Létourneau. Shy, serious and very kind, François-Xavier certainly made an impression on his classmates, but especially because of his height! As you can see, he stands a head taller than Napoléon, and looks to be at least seven feet tall. Father Létourneau visited Saint-Alexandre-de-Kamouraska in 1924, but only briefly, as he was a missionary in Africa. He was a member of the White Fathers, as we can see from his clothing, which includes a large white cassock and a black and white cross worn around his neck. Like several hundred other Quebecers at the time (and still today), Father Létourneau devoted his life to the evangelization of the African continent. But his story does not have a happy ending. When he left college in 1919 (he was 23 or 24 at the time), he decided to become a missionary. After several years in Algiers (Algeria) and Carthage (Tunisia), he found himself at the Bolgatanga mission station in Ghana. He was there just over two years before he drowned in early August 1927, at just 30 years old. This portrait of Father Létourneau by Marie-Alice Dumont, along with another in which he poses alone in the studio, are perhaps the only existing photos of him.
This portrait shows the family of Marie-Alice Dumont’s older brother. François Dumont (1887–1981) stands beside his second wife, Mary April (1889–1968). They are both around 40 years old. The taller of the two boys is named Félix. He was about 12 years old, the child of François’s first marriage to Délima Sirois, who died young of dropsy. The youngest is Yvan, aged around five. Not in the photo is Origène, who isn’t born yet, although probably in his mother’s womb when this photo was taken. The family poses in a domestic setting, perhaps their own home, the former house of Marie-Alice Dumont’s parents on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre.
François Dumont and Mary April were married on February 13, 1917. They were photographed here by Marie-Alice Dumont when they were about 65 years old. They had always lived in the Dumont family home on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. In biographical notes, Joseph-Napoléon describes Mary as “brave, very pious, thrifty and hard-working,” all “qualities” that helped the family “get through the difficult period of the economic crisis of the thirties.” Napoléon’s assessment of his older brother François is equally admiring: a good Catholic, excellent at Gregorian chant, generous, a resilient and prosperous farmer. François inherited his father’s land in 1926, when his parents moved to the village with their daughters.
Little Origène is posed here at barely a year old. Note the blurry shot: it is not easy to photograph a baby of this age without them moving! The photographer, who was still learning at the time, might have had more luck by increasing the shutter speed on her Kodak. Or perhaps the blurred effect was intended?
This little niece of Marie-Alice Dumont seems to be enjoying her time in front of the camera! Still a baby, she is sitting on an armchair that the photographer had brought out of her studio for the occasion. Was this before electricity was installed in the studio in 1929? Perhaps there was not enough light inside to take the portrait.
This group was gathered in front of the Saint-Alexandre church for the 1948 wedding of Thérèse Massé and Yvan Dumont, nephew of Marie-Alice Dumont. Yvan worked as a farm manager for various women’s religious communities. Also present in this group are Yvan’s parents (Mary and François, in the left foreground) and his brother and sister-in-law (Origène and Daria, in the third row, to the left).
In this semi-successful shot (was it developed by Marie-Alice Dumont, or did she take it herself?), Origène Dumont and Daria Lavoie pose with their eldest daughter, Françoise, and a couple of close friends. Their wedding comes with an interesting story: On July 15, 1947, they were married in Saint-Denis-de-Kamouraska, along with two of Daria’s sisters and one of her brothers. That means four children from the same family were married in the same ceremony!
This beautiful bust portrait is of Georgette Ouellet (1923–2016), aged about 20. Another niece of Marie-Alice Dumont, Georgette was the eighth of 16 siblings, 15 of whom reached adulthood. She married Gilles Caron of Trois-Rivières in 1956.
There are many multi-generational portraits of women in the archives left by Marie-Alice Dumont. Here, her niece Marie-Jeanne Ouellet holds her baby daughter and poses with her mother Émilia Dumont and grandmother Marie Pelletier. The grandmother is seated in a large, carved wooden chair, the grandest seat in the image. The figures carved on either side of the backrest were said to frighten children, who nicknamed it the “Devil’s Chair.”
Joseph-Napoléon Dumont made many friends during his time at the Collège de la Pocatière. He is shown here (right) with a classmate, François-Xavier Létourneau. Shy, serious and very kind, François-Xavier certainly made an impression on his classmates, but especially because of his height! As you can see, he stands a head taller than Napoléon, and looks to be at least seven feet tall. Father Létourneau visited Saint-Alexandre-de-Kamouraska in 1924, but only briefly, as he was a missionary in Africa. He was a member of the White Fathers, as we can see from his clothing, which includes a large white cassock and a black and white cross worn around his neck. Like several hundred other Quebecers at the time (and still today), Father Létourneau devoted his life to the evangelization of the African continent. But his story does not have a happy ending. When he left college in 1919 (he was 23 or 24 at the time), he decided to become a missionary. After several years in Algiers (Algeria) and Carthage (Tunisia), he found himself at the Bolgatanga mission station in Ghana. He was there just over two years before he drowned in early August 1927, at just 30 years old. This portrait of Father Létourneau by Marie-Alice Dumont, along with another in which he poses alone in the studio, are perhaps the only existing photos of him.
This portrait shows the family of Marie-Alice Dumont’s older brother. François Dumont (1887–1981) stands beside his second wife, Mary April (1889–1968). They are both around 40 years old. The taller of the two boys is named Félix. He was about 12 years old, the child of François’s first marriage to Délima Sirois, who died young of dropsy. The youngest is Yvan, aged around five. Not in the photo is Origène, who isn’t born yet, although probably in his mother’s womb when this photo was taken. The family poses in a domestic setting, perhaps their own home, the former house of Marie-Alice Dumont’s parents on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre.
François Dumont and Mary April were married on February 13, 1917. They were photographed here by Marie-Alice Dumont when they were about 65 years old. They had always lived in the Dumont family home on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. In biographical notes, Joseph-Napoléon describes Mary as “brave, very pious, thrifty and hard-working,” all “qualities” that helped the family “get through the difficult period of the economic crisis of the thirties.” Napoléon’s assessment of his older brother François is equally admiring: a good Catholic, excellent at Gregorian chant, generous, a resilient and prosperous farmer. François inherited his father’s land in 1926, when his parents moved to the village with their daughters.
Little Origène is posed here at barely a year old. Note the blurry shot: it is not easy to photograph a baby of this age without them moving! The photographer, who was still learning at the time, might have had more luck by increasing the shutter speed on her Kodak. Or perhaps the blurred effect was intended?
This little niece of Marie-Alice Dumont seems to be enjoying her time in front of the camera! Still a baby, she is sitting on an armchair that the photographer had brought out of her studio for the occasion. Was this before electricity was installed in the studio in 1929? Perhaps there was not enough light inside to take the portrait.
This group was gathered in front of the Saint-Alexandre church for the 1948 wedding of Thérèse Massé and Yvan Dumont, nephew of Marie-Alice Dumont. Yvan worked as a farm manager for various women’s religious communities. Also present in this group are Yvan’s parents (Mary and François, in the left foreground) and his brother and sister-in-law (Origène and Daria, in the third row, to the left).
In this semi-successful shot (was it developed by Marie-Alice Dumont, or did she take it herself?), Origène Dumont and Daria Lavoie pose with their eldest daughter, Françoise, and a couple of close friends. Their wedding comes with an interesting story: On July 15, 1947, they were married in Saint-Denis-de-Kamouraska, along with two of Daria’s sisters and one of her brothers. That means four children from the same family were married in the same ceremony!
This beautiful bust portrait is of Georgette Ouellet (1923–2016), aged about 20. Another niece of Marie-Alice Dumont, Georgette was the eighth of 16 siblings, 15 of whom reached adulthood. She married Gilles Caron of Trois-Rivières in 1956.
There are many multi-generational portraits of women in the archives left by Marie-Alice Dumont. Here, her niece Marie-Jeanne Ouellet holds her baby daughter and poses with her mother Émilia Dumont and grandmother Marie Pelletier. The grandmother is seated in a large, carved wooden chair, the grandest seat in the image. The figures carved on either side of the backrest were said to frighten children, who nicknamed it the “Devil’s Chair.”
Joseph-Napoléon Dumont made many friends during his time at the Collège de la Pocatière. He is shown here (right) with a classmate, François-Xavier Létourneau. Shy, serious and very kind, François-Xavier certainly made an impression on his classmates, but especially because of his height! As you can see, he stands a head taller than Napoléon, and looks to be at least seven feet tall. Father Létourneau visited Saint-Alexandre-de-Kamouraska in 1924, but only briefly, as he was a missionary in Africa. He was a member of the White Fathers, as we can see from his clothing, which includes a large white cassock and a black and white cross worn around his neck. Like several hundred other Quebecers at the time (and still today), Father Létourneau devoted his life to the evangelization of the African continent. But his story does not have a happy ending. When he left college in 1919 (he was 23 or 24 at the time), he decided to become a missionary. After several years in Algiers (Algeria) and Carthage (Tunisia), he found himself at the Bolgatanga mission station in Ghana. He was there just over two years before he drowned in early August 1927, at just 30 years old. This portrait of Father Létourneau by Marie-Alice Dumont, along with another in which he poses alone in the studio, are perhaps the only existing photos of him.
This portrait shows the family of Marie-Alice Dumont’s older brother. François Dumont (1887–1981) stands beside his second wife, Mary April (1889–1968). They are both around 40 years old. The taller of the two boys is named Félix. He was about 12 years old, the child of François’s first marriage to Délima Sirois, who died young of dropsy. The youngest is Yvan, aged around five. Not in the photo is Origène, who isn’t born yet, although probably in his mother’s womb when this photo was taken. The family poses in a domestic setting, perhaps their own home, the former house of Marie-Alice Dumont’s parents on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre.
François Dumont and Mary April were married on February 13, 1917. They were photographed here by Marie-Alice Dumont when they were about 65 years old. They had always lived in the Dumont family home on the 5e Rang in Saint-Alexandre. In biographical notes, Joseph-Napoléon describes Mary as “brave, very pious, thrifty and hard-working,” all “qualities” that helped the family “get through the difficult period of the economic crisis of the thirties.” Napoléon’s assessment of his older brother François is equally admiring: a good Catholic, excellent at Gregorian chant, generous, a resilient and prosperous farmer. François inherited his father’s land in 1926, when his parents moved to the village with their daughters.
Little Origène is posed here at barely a year old. Note the blurry shot: it is not easy to photograph a baby of this age without them moving! The photographer, who was still learning at the time, might have had more luck by increasing the shutter speed on her Kodak. Or perhaps the blurred effect was intended?
This little niece of Marie-Alice Dumont seems to be enjoying her time in front of the camera! Still a baby, she is sitting on an armchair that the photographer had brought out of her studio for the occasion. Was this before electricity was installed in the studio in 1929? Perhaps there was not enough light inside to take the portrait.
This group was gathered in front of the Saint-Alexandre church for the 1948 wedding of Thérèse Massé and Yvan Dumont, nephew of Marie-Alice Dumont. Yvan worked as a farm manager for various women’s religious communities. Also present in this group are Yvan’s parents (Mary and François, in the left foreground) and his brother and sister-in-law (Origène and Daria, in the third row, to the left).
In this semi-successful shot (was it developed by Marie-Alice Dumont, or did she take it herself?), Origène Dumont and Daria Lavoie pose with their eldest daughter, Françoise, and a couple of close friends. Their wedding comes with an interesting story: On July 15, 1947, they were married in Saint-Denis-de-Kamouraska, along with two of Daria’s sisters and one of her brothers. That means four children from the same family were married in the same ceremony!
This beautiful bust portrait is of Georgette Ouellet (1923–2016), aged about 20. Another niece of Marie-Alice Dumont, Georgette was the eighth of 16 siblings, 15 of whom reached adulthood. She married Gilles Caron of Trois-Rivières in 1956.
There are many multi-generational portraits of women in the archives left by Marie-Alice Dumont. Here, her niece Marie-Jeanne Ouellet holds her baby daughter and poses with her mother Émilia Dumont and grandmother Marie Pelletier. The grandmother is seated in a large, carved wooden chair, the grandest seat in the image. The figures carved on either side of the backrest were said to frighten children, who nicknamed it the “Devil’s Chair.”
This portrait shows Mary April with the three children she cared for with François Dumont. Each carries a small animal, possibly a cat. Origène, the youngest, cries in his mother’s arms. Yvan keeps a close eye on the little creature in his hands. Meanwhile, Félix smiles, gazing into the distance. At what time of day was the photograph taken? What were they doing beforehand? What will they do afterwards? We can only speculate. However, the farm setting gives us a clue to their daily life, which was shaped by the work and chores required to maintain a farm property.
