September 2020 - The Image Journey

Published September 28, 2020 by avardw

Toronto Gone – Toronto Stock Exchange, 1981

Toronto Stock Exchange, trading floor, Bay Street — Toronto Stock Exchange, Toronto, 1981 – © Avard Woolaver

In the fall of 1981, I photographed the Toronto Stock Exchange (TSE) for a school project at Ryerson. I spent three or four mornings on a viewing platform that looked down on the trading floor, trying to capture the activity and mood of the place. I remember borrowing a 300mm lens from the school–the longest lens I have ever used. The focus was so critical and as the lighting was relatively dim, I had to push the film to get adequate depth of field. I was satisfied with the results and produced a slide show programmed with a Wollensak, using the Beatles’ “Baby, You’re a Rich Man” as a soundtrack.

Looking back at these images after almost forty years, they look like relics of a different era. There are big clunky monitors, rotary phones, and paper slips strewn everywhere. There is almost a complete absence of women (they are still a minority, making up an estimated 10 to 15 percent of traders). A few women are visible, however, changing numbers on the boards, but not doing any trading. Traders are buying and selling on the phone, as well as yelling and using hand signals–a beehive of activity.

The Toronto Stock Exchange was on Bay Street in those days, in the elegant art deco building it occupied for sixty years–1937 to 1997. It then moved to the Exchange Tower on King Street, and is now the TSX. The trading floor has been replaced by an electronic trading system; gone are the men in suits, frantically yelling and gesturing. Most major exchanges in the world have also abandoned the “open outcry” method, except for the United States, where several exchanges (including the New York Mercantile Exchange and New York Stock Exchange) remain old-school.

Stephen Simpson in Investopedia talks about the pros and cons of open outcry trading. “Certainly computers are faster, cheaper, more efficient and less error-prone with routine trades – though the error rate in open outcry trading is surprisingly low. What’s more, computers are at least theoretically better for regulators in creating data trails that can be followed when there are suspicions of illegal activity. That said, electronic trading is not perfect and open outcry has some unique features. Because of the human element, traders who can “read” people may be at an advantage when it comes to picking up non-verbal cues on the motives and intentions of counter-parties. Perhaps analogous to the world of poker, there are some players who thrive as much on reading the players as playing the odds – and electronic trading removes those signals from the equation.“

The series “Toronto Gone” puts a focus on things that have disappeared–buildings, businesses, parking lots, cars, people that used to be a part of the city in the 1980s and 1990s prior to the condo boom, and before the widespread use of computers and cell phones.

Toronto Stock Exchange, TSE, Bay Street — Toronto Stock Exchange, Toronto, 1981 – © Avard Woolaver

Toronto Stock Exchange, TSE, trading floor — Toronto Stock Exchange, Toronto, 1981 – © Avard Woolaver

Black and White Documentary Photography Toronto

1981 documentary photography photography Toronto Stock Exchange

Published September 26, 2020 by avardw

Wish You Were Here – Curious Scenes in 2020

Wish You Were Here, surrealism, — Brooklyn, Nova Scotia, 2020 – © Avard Woolaver

My Wish You Were Here series aims to challenge the viewers’ attention in a subtle way by finding everyday scenes with elements of whimsy and surrealism. Like Rene Magritte, and Lee Friedlander, I want to make the familiar seem a little strange, but without Photoshop and image manipulation. These photos come about through observation, using juxtaposition, reflection, typography, and scale.

This project has been ongoing for several years now, and also have a black and white series called Wish You Were Here – Monochrome Dreaming. As 2020 has been such a strange and unusual year, I thought these 2020 photos, since the start of the pandemic, may be appropriate for the times.

Here is the introduction to the book, self published in 2018: “When I was a teenage boy in the mid-Seventies, living in rural Nova Scotia, I spent hours studying the album covers created by Hipgnosis, the London-based design group. This was before I grew interested in photography, but, as LPs like Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” or “Ummagumma” played on the turntable, I scrutinized the covers, trying to penetrate the mysteries of the evocative, layered visual compositions. My “Wish You Were Here” is an ongoing photographic project that’s been in the works for several years. I aim to capture images that have a sense of the surreal yet are readily seen in everyday life. Additionally, I try to capture the sense of whimsy and humour that I liked about those album covers. The images come about through observation, rather than with Photoshop or other manipulations. For me, that’s an important aspect of the project–there’s no manipulation of the image. Reflections, juxtaposition, and scale all come into play.”

Blogging Nova Scotia Observation Photography

2020 photography Wish You Were Here

Published September 21, 2020 by avardw

Toronto Gone – the departed social landscape

departed, Toronto, social landscape — View from Hanlan’s Point, Toronto, 1981 – © Avard Woolaver

These photos show things that have departed from Toronto’s social landscape since the 1980s. That Toronto is gone. Or at least parts of it. Buildings, businesses, parking lots, and people that used to be a part of the city in the 1980s have disappeared, and been replaced by others. It’s part of the inevitable cycle of death and rebirth, of disappearance and reappearance. There is no way to know exactly what aspects of a place will change. So in some sense my 1980s Toronto photos are accidental. Their significance now is something I never could have foreseen.

In the above photo the skyline looks relatively sparse. This photo, along with many others I took in the 1980s, shows the disappearance of empty space. The Royal York Hotel is barely visible today, the view crowded out by numerous high rises. The photo below shows a large parking area in the downtown core–another example of once empty space that has been filled in. While some mourn the loss of departed empty space, others, like city planners, welcome it. The condo boom has allowed more people to live in the downtown core, who might otherwise have had to live in the suburbs or in another city.

In the other photos, Jerry’s Camera, Route 66, and Rok’s Milk have all disappeared along with old men in dapper hats, and “Red Rocket” streetcars. I think there are still dinosaurs in Budapest Park (Sir Casmir Gzowski Playground) but the view with the lone high rise is more crowded with numerous towers.

Santa Claus Parade, Toronto, 1981 – © Avard Woolaver

Photography Toronto

1980s film photography Toronto Gone

Published September 14, 2020 by avardw

Toronto Gone – Bay Street suits in the 1980s

When doing street photography in 1980s Toronto, I often walked around the Yonge-Dundas area, or along Queen Street West, or sometimes Kensington Market. I rarely walked around Bay Street because I didn’t have much interest in the corporate world. But in the fall of 1981, I had a school assignment to do a slide show. The subject I chose first was a boxing club in Cabbagetown, but the lighting was too dim. The Toronto Stock Exchange seemed like a better choice. Establishing shots were needed (people going to work on Bay Street), and I spent a few hours one morning photographing men in suits, many carrying briefcases. They’re kind of grim and serious, but professional, and dressed to look sharp. There seemed to be very few women in the crowds.

These photos have lain dormant for almost forty years, and I’m fascinated at seeing them again. A few could almost have been taken in the the 1950s, not the 1980s. Some of the men are in their sixties, meaning they could have been born before 1920. Perhaps they were young children during the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918, or maybe they fought in WWII. When you look at history in terms of generations, 1920 was not that long ago.

Business suits are still worn on Bay Street, but dress codes have become more flexible (especially since the emergence of the tech sector in the early 2000s).

Leanne Delap wrote in the Toronto Star about the shift from three-piece suit to smart casual:

The news earlier this month that the venerable stuffy-suit investment bank Goldman Sachs has adopted a “flexible dress code,” may mark the end of the Bay Street business suit as we know it. America’s fifth largest bank, Goldman Sachs is one of the best-known “white shoe” institutions, a neat old-fashioned term that used to denote century-plus old provenance, and ultra-conservative mannerisms.

A leaked memo sent to Goldman Sachs staff was vague about why changes in the workplace dress were taking place. But it is most likely about a generational shift as a youthquake has come to suit land. More than three-quarters of Goldman Sachs employees were born in 1981 or later, which is a whole lot of millennial and Gen Z preferences to placate for any firm that wants to retain top talent.

Black and White Blogging Photography Toronto

Bay Street photography suits Toronto Gone

Published September 13, 2020 by avardw

The Social Landscape – For me, it all goes back to Lee.

Lee Friedlander, social landscape, — Digby, Nova Scotia, 2020 – © Avard Woolaver

In the 1960s and 1970s, Lee Friedlander evolved an influential and often imitated visual language of urban “social landscape,” with many of his photographs including fragments of store-front reflections, structures framed by fences, posters and street signs. For the past forty years my own photos have focused on the social landscape, and I owe a lot to Lee for setting me on this course.

I’ve been a fan of Friedlander since I discovered his photographs in the 1970s, in a Time-Life book called Documentary Photography. The writer described the photos as chaotic: “There is a brooding message of disorientation, of something having gone askew in these pictures.” For me, his photos are bursting with creativity, intelligence and deadpan humour–they seem to be the visual equivalent of jazz music. He welcomed foreground obstructions such as poles and trees, and also his own shadow, as a way of creating visual interest. When I was a student at Ryerson, I used to look at a leaf through a book of Lee photos before going out to take photos. He has been one of my main sources of photographic inspiration over the years.

Eric Kim writes in his blog: “Friedlander was interested in capturing “The American social landscape.” This included photographs that included people and also photographs that didn’t include people. I think one of the biggest cruxes in my street photography career so far is the idea that all of my shots had to include people.

If you look at some of Friedlander’s best work, many of them don’t include people. Rather, he focuses on signage, interesting sculptures, numbers, words, letters, cars, and other intimate objects. I think this is actually what makes Friedlander’s work stand out from all of the street photographers from history; the fact that his photos that don’t include people still have so much humanity– and tell a lot about American society.”

Everyone has their own visual take on the world. My photos represent my own vision of the social landscape that has evolved over time. It’s important to give a nod to those who inspired you. Most of the photos in this post were taken quite recently. Lee has been on my mind.