September 2020 - Page 2 of 2 - The Image Journey

Published September 8, 2020 by avardw

Toronto Gone – The importance of visual content

Toronto Gone, visual content — Kensington Market, Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

When it comes to documentary photography, the more visual content, the better. The information, i.e., the visual content, in a photograph can tell you so much, especially when looking at it in a historical context. In the above photo there is so much more to be learned with the variety of elements than if I had zoomed in on just the storefront, or just the on cyclist. For instance, we can see that children’s car seats were not yet required–the child is sitting on his mother’s lap in the front seat. Sony Walkmans were being used; the cyclist is carrying one. And the bicycle is a ten-speed touring bike–mountain bikes were not yet a thing. Lucky Variety has a hand-painted sign, and sells cassettes (not LPs or CDs). The phone number for the business doesn’t have the 416 area code in front of it.

I’ve been a fan of Lee Friedlander since I discovered his photographs in 1978, in a book titled Concerning Photography. His photos are bursting with creativity, intelligence, and deadpan humour–they seem to be the visual equivalent of jazz music. He has been one of my main sources of photographic inspiration over the years.

Lee Friedlander, famous for his pioneering photos of the urban social landscape, has a talent for filling his photos with visual content without making them seem overly crowded. Eric Kim writes on his blog, “Friedlander was very conscious of how he framed his scenes, and wanted to add more complexity to his shots through adding content of interest.”

He accomplished this by using a wide-angle lens—usually a 35mm. That way objects in the foreground can remain in focus along with background elements. Though complexity is not always the answer, it certainly adds interest.

It’s something to think about when you take photos. While minimalism may work for some photos, when deciding whether to leave something in the photo or crop it out, I usually leave it in.

Dundas West and Chestnut, Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

Toronto, visual content — Yonge and St. Mary, Toronto, 1985 – © Avard Woolaver

Toronto Gone — Store Signs, Dundas St. West, Toronto, 1986 – © Avard Woolaver

Black and White Film Photography Photography Social Landscape Toronto

documentary photography Lee Friedlander photography Toronto Toronto Gone visual content

Published September 7, 2020 by avardw

September 7, 1980 – remembering Terry Fox

Elton John, Terry Fox — Elton John ticket stub, Toronto, 1980 – © Avard Woolaver

In 1980 (exactly 40 years ago today), when I’d only been living in Toronto a few days, Elton John played Maple Leaf Gardens, two blocks from my apartment. I bought a scalper’s ticket for $5, thinking that the concert had already started–but I was lucky; it hadn’t. He walked on to the stage and said, “I dedicate this concert to Terry Fox.” The place erupted with a standing ovation. Terry Fox had recently been forced to end his run, near Thunder Bay. We knew the whole country was rooting for him, and Elton John’s words gave us a sense that, indeed, the entire world was. That wasn’t true, of course; Terry’s run was a Canadian event. But it was incredibly powerful for Canada. The musical highlight that night, for me, was his cover of John Lennon’s “Imagine.” I’ll never forget that concert.

Terry Fox is my hero. He had such vision, courage, and stamina to continue running every day, even though he must have been in pain. He had no idea that his plan and vision would touch so many people and raise so much money over the years.

Sadly, on September 1, 1980, 11 kilometres outside Thunder Bay, Terry was forced to stop running because cancer had appeared in his lungs. He passed away on June 28, 1981 at age 22, but not before realizing his dream of raising $1 for every Canadian – $24.17 million.

From Wikipedia:

Terrance Stanley Fox CC OD (July 28, 1958 – June 28, 1981) was a Canadian athlete, humanitarian, and cancer research activist. In 1980, with one leg having been amputated due to cancer, he embarked on an east to west cross-Canada run to raise money and awareness for cancer research. Although the spread of his cancer eventually forced him to end his quest after 143 days and 5,373 kilometres (3,339 mi), and ultimately cost him his life, his efforts resulted in a lasting, worldwide legacy. The annual Terry Fox Run, first held in 1981, has grown to involve millions of participants in over 60 countries and is now the world’s largest one-day fundraiser for cancer research; over C$750 million has been raised in his name, as of January 2018.

Fox was a distance runner and basketball player for his Port Coquitlam, British Columbia, high school and Simon Fraser University. His right leg was amputated in 1977 after he was diagnosed with osteosarcoma, though he continued to run using an artificial leg. He also played wheelchair basketball in Vancouver, winning three national championships.

In 1980, he began the Marathon of Hope, a cross-country run to raise money for cancer research. He hoped to raise one dollar from each of Canada’s 24 million people. He began with little fanfare from St John’s, Newfoundland and Labrador, in April and ran the equivalent of a full marathon every day. Fox had become a national star by the time he reached Ontario; he made numerous public appearances with businessmen, athletes, and politicians in his efforts to raise money. He was forced to end his run outside Thunder Bay when the cancer spread to his lungs. His hopes of overcoming the disease and completing his marathon ended when he died nine months later.

In addition to being the youngest person ever named a Companion of the Order of Canada, Fox won the 1980 Lou Marsh Award as the nation’s top sportsman and was named Canada’s Newsmaker of the Year in both 1980 and 1981. Considered a national hero, he has had many buildings, statues, roads, and parks named in his honour across the country.

The COVID-19 pandemic has made the annual community fundraising runs a no-go. So a virtual version will be held on Sept. 20, with the theme “One Day. Your Way.” You can participate and donate here: https://terryfox.org/

Terry Fox in his Marathon of Hope, 1980

Blogging Photography Toronto

concert Elton John photography September 7 1980 Terry Fox

Published September 4, 2020 by avardw

Toronto Gone – where have all the phone booths gone?

Phone Booths, Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

Phone booths used to be everywhere in Toronto, but around 15 years or so ago, when cell phones took over, they began to disappear. Rennee Reizman writes in The Atlantic, “At a time when 95 percent of Americans own a mobile phone, the phone booth seems quaint and outdated. People have waxed nostalgic over the loss of this technology in eulogies, public art installations, and documentaries. Since a peak of 2.6 million public pay phones in the mid-1990s, this ubiquitous infrastructure has been on the decline. After the devices stopped turning a profit, AT&T officially announced its exit from the pay phone market in 2007. Verizon followed suit in 2011.”

In the U.S., phone booths were thought to be linked to criminal activity, and were removed. The efforts led to fewer pay phones in impoverished areas, making them inaccessible to their most-likely users. A post on five9.com states “In addition to technological advancements, phone booths have a separate inferiority: they are frequently vandalized. It is not uncommon to see explicit writing in pen or spray paint and the windows practically beg for hooligans to throw rocks. People leaving bars, intoxicated in the middle of the night, are known to use them as restrooms. Even sober pedestrians use them as garbage cans.”

You may remember having to put a dime in the slot and using the rotary dial to dial the number. Later, in the 1980s, as in these photos, the rotary phones were replaced with push button ones. And at some time, the fee went from 10 cents to 25 cents. It was a place to get out of the wind on a winter night, or a place to have a private conversation. I remember getting my first answering machine is the early 1980s and the messages could be accessed remotely from a pay phone with a little beeper. So high tech!

I miss phone booths, but it is good to know that they are being repurposed in certain places. According to five9, “Despite their imminent extinction, telephone booths have proven useful for other purposes. The city of Shanghai, China, has converted 500 former telephone booths into WiFi hotspots. On one hand, this is a positive change because the booth is being used. On the other hand it is somewhat ironic because its new purpose is powering a successor technology. Phone booths are also still useful for advertisers. Just because people no longer enter the booth to make calls, they do pass by. In fact, New York City earns three times as much using its phone booths as ad space than they do using them for their phone services.”

On a recent trip to Japan, I noticed as many phone booths as ever. It means they are still being used, even if just as a space for advertising.

(The title of this post is of course a reference to Pete Seeger’s 1962 folk classic Where Have All the Flowers Gone? – a circular song, that ends where it started, and summarizes the consequences of war.)

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.

Pears Avenue, Ramsden Park, Toronto, 1984 – © Avard Woolaver

Cherry Street, Toronto, 1982 – © Avard Woolaver

Yonge Street, Toronto, 1981 – © Avard Woolaver

Wallace Avenue, Toronto, 1981 – © Avard Woolaver

Parliament Street, Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

Gerrard and Jarvis, Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

Jarvis Street, Toronto, 1980 – © Avard Woolaver

Yonge and King (looking west), Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

Photography Toronto

pay phones phone booths photography Toronto Gone

Published September 2, 2020 by avardw

Wish You Were Here – Monochrome Dreaming

The Junction, Toronto, 1982 – © Avard Woolaver

I have always been monochrome dreaming. Since first picking up a camera, I have been interested in recording odd scenes; photos that make you do a double take. In the early days, I didn’t concentrate on it very much. I’d take a photo whenever I came across something unusual. It wasn’t until I got a digital camera in 2006 that I began to actively look for everyday scenes that make the familiar seem a little strange.

With a digital camera, I could experiment more–take many photos of the same scene in order to change the angle of a reflection or align elements perfectly. My image making went from taking a one-off of a particular scene to exploring the scene more fully to get the best possible shot. In this post I show a few early examples from Toronto in the 1980s, and then some more recent examples.

In my Wish You Were Here series, I aim to challenge the viewers’ attention in a subtle way by finding everyday scenes with elements of whimsy and surrealism. Like Magritte, and 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. My new project, “Wish You Were Here – Monochrome Dreaming” shows black and white images that aspire to challenge and entertain the senses.