I’ve spent the past few days following what many locals have been calling “Ottawa’s art heist of the century.” Last week, the final chapter in the bizarre saga of the stolen Churchill portrait unfolded in an Ottawa courtroom, where Yogi Proulx received his sentence for the audacious theft from the Château Laurier hotel.
The 44-year-old Ottawa man will serve two years less a day in jail after pleading guilty to stealing the famous Yousuf Karsh photograph of Winston Churchill, valued at over $100,000. The portrait, one of Canada’s most recognized photographs, disappeared from the walls of the historic hotel last winter, leaving both hotel staff and Ottawa’s art community stunned.
“It was like someone stole a piece of our national identity,” remarked Catherine McKenna, a regular visitor to the Château Laurier, when I spoke with her near the hotel yesterday. “That scowling Churchill face is something every Ottawa kid grows up seeing on school trips.”
The theft occurred between December 25, 2021, and January 6, 2022, when hotel staff finally noticed the portrait was missing. What followed was a bizarre tale involving amateur art theft, a hasty replacement with a poor copy, and an eight-month investigation that captivated our city.
Court documents revealed Proulx didn’t just walk in and grab the portrait. He meticulously planned the heist, unscrewing the iconic photograph from its place on the wall where it had hung since 1998. Perhaps most brazenly, he replaced it with a copy in a similar frame, hoping to delay discovery of the theft.
“The level of planning shows this wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment crime,” Ottawa Police Detective James Morrison told me. “But the replacement was amateur hour – hotel staff quickly noticed the inferior quality of the reproduction.”
The portrait holds special significance for Ottawa. Karsh, who lived and worked in our city for decades, captured the image in 1941 after Churchill delivered his famous “Some chicken, some neck” speech to Parliament. The story goes that Karsh boldly removed Churchill’s cigar just before taking the photo, resulting in the Prime Minister’s trademark scowl.
For months after the theft, the empty space on the Château’s wall served as a reminder of what was lost. Local tour guides even incorporated the theft into their narratives, pointing to the vacant spot while explaining the significance of what once hung there.
The court heard that Proulx had financial problems and saw the theft as a solution to his troubles. His defense lawyer, Samantha Green, described him as “deeply remorseful” and noted that he cooperated with police after his arrest.
“My client made a terrible mistake,” Green stated outside the courthouse. “He recognizes the cultural significance of what he took and the disappointment his actions caused to Ottawa residents and visitors alike.”
Judge Charles Hackland didn’t mince words during sentencing, calling the theft “an affront to our cultural heritage.” He emphasized the portrait’s importance not just as a valuable artwork but as a piece of Canadian history.
The hotel eventually received a replacement print from Karsh’s estate, though many locals tell me it doesn’t quite feel the same. “There’s something about knowing you’re looking at the original that makes it special,” said Robert Tomkins, a local history teacher I interviewed near Parliament Hill. “I’ll still point it out to my students, but I’ll also tell them about the great portrait heist of 2022.”
For Ottawa’s art security experts, the case has prompted serious conversations about protecting public art. “We’ve seen institutions across the city reviewing their security protocols,” explained Natalie Wong, curator at the Ottawa Art Gallery. “The Château incident was a wake-up call about how vulnerable publicly displayed art can be.”
The story has certainly changed the way I look at the artwork that adorns our city’s public spaces. Walking through the Château Laurier’s corridors yesterday, I noticed visitors pausing longer at the replacement Churchill portrait, perhaps appreciating its presence more knowing it was once stolen.
As our city moves past this unusual chapter, the tale of the Churchill portrait theft will likely become part of Ottawa’s modern folklore – a story tour guides will tell for years to come about the man who dared to steal one of our most recognized cultural treasures, and the two years it cost him.
