Black and White Archives - Page 2 of 9

Published May 3, 2021 by avardw

Photographs taken on Echo Beach

This is the location that inspired Mark Gane of Martha and the Muffins to write the 1980 hit song “Echo Beach.” The photo was taken at Sunnyside Beach, Toronto, in 1984.

On a silent summer evening/The sky’s alive with lights/A building in the distance/Surrealistic sight

From Wikipedia: “Echo Beach, as mentioned in the song, does not refer to a real beach, but rather a symbolic notion of somewhere the narrator would rather be, somewhere ‘far away in time.’ The song was created while Gane was working checking wallpaper for printing faults. He found the work rather dull and his mind drifted to times he would like to live over again. One such time was an evening spent at Sunnyside Beach on the shoreline of Lake Ontario in Toronto in summer. It was only the third song that Gane had written.”

When I took the photo, I had no notion of the connection with the song. I did, however, think that the lone building was quite surreal, appearing like a non sequitor on the blank shoreline.

The song that comes to mind when I look at the photo is “You Never Give Me Your Money” and the line “Oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go.” I had just graduated from Ryerson, and was uncertain about my future in the recession of the 1980s. Little did I know that three years later I’d be living in Japan.

When I reflect on the photo now, that stage of my life does seem “faraway in time.” I was in my twenties then, and I’m in my sixties now. I have a different perspective, looking back at those years. Some may call it wisdom, but I prefer the term “road tested.”

Black and White Film Photography Photography Toronto

Echo Beach film photography Martha and the Muffins Sunnyside Beach Toronto

Published April 28, 2021 by avardw

I only know how to take one photo

In some way, I only know how to take one photo. I just do it at different times and locations. It brings to mind a quote from blues harmonica legend Charlie Musselwhite: “I only know one tune, and I play it faster or slower, or I change the key, but it’s just the one tune I’ve ever played in my life. It’s all I know.” There is a particular photo by Lee Friedlander that I believe may be the basis for my photographic approach. I discovered it in 1978, in a book titled Concerning Photography. At that time, I was just learning how to use a camera and was very passionate about this new endeavor.

Albuquerque, New Mexico, 1972 – Lee Friedlander

The black and white photo, titled “Albuquerque, New Mexico, 1972,” shows an intersection cluttered with a hydrant and various poles. There is a car tire in frame on the right, as well as a high-rise apartment building. In the centre, there is a small house (or small bank building), and on the right—the pièce de résistance – a dog sitting on the sidewalk, partially obscured by a pole, looking like it’s waiting to use the crosswalk. So much information, and wonderful balance of so many elements. And such beautiful, creamy black and white tones. The photo is bursting with creativity, intelligence and deadpan humour–and seems to be the visual equivalent of jazz music.

Over the course of forty years, I have taken many kinds of photos—landscapes, portraits, documentary, editorial, but I keep returning to this wonderful Lee Friedlander photo with its delicate balance of design elements, its visual humour and social commentary. When I go out into the world with my camera, the most satisfying moments come when I know I have taken a quirky photo, one that makes the viewer do a double take. It may be the only photo I know how to take, yet I was there, and I saw that!

Black and White Documentary Photography

black and white photography Charlie Musselwhite Lee Friedlander photography

Published February 13, 2021 by avardw

Documentary Photos in New York, 1983

These are some documentary photos taken in New York in 1983. Documentary photography can be defined as style of photography that provides a straightforward and accurate representation of people, places, objects and events, and is often used in reportage. It can be both significant and relevant to history and historical events as well as everyday life.

For me, documentary photos are ones that are taken without manipulation, or staging. My urban photographs from the 1980s, taken in Toronto, New York, Japan, and Asia are largely street photographs, but are also documentary in that they capture life as it is. And the passage of time makes them more interesting, and valuable, as documents of another era. The above photo, for example, shows a man sitting at the entrance to B. Altman and Company on 5th Avenue. It was the flagship store of a luxury department store chain that opened in 1906 and closed for good in 1989. It’s nice to have a record of this iconic store.

A recent article by Authur Lubow in the New York Times titled, Life As It’s Seen, Not Staged makes the point that documentary photography, which fell out of favor with the rise of manipulated images, is making a comeback. An exhibition at the International Centre of Photography highlights young photographers share “a commitment to portray life as they discover it in the world at large, without staging or manipulation; and by so doing, find and express themselves.” Lubow also makes the point that “nothing is weirder than a straight photograph of an uncanny subject.” In short, truth is stranger than fiction.

In my early sixties, I sill find everyday life endlessly fascinating, and continue to capture it with my documentary photos. They help me make sense of the world we live in, and also help me remember the places I’ve been, and people and things I’ve seen.

Black and White Documentary Film Photography Photography Social Landscape Street Photography

1980s documentary photography film photography New York New York City street photography

Published February 2, 2021 by avardw

Toronto street photos from the 1980s

Toronto street photos, 1980s, — Nathan Phillips Square Toronto, 1982 – © Avard Woolaver

Here are some Toronto street photos from the 1980s. They are images that I scanned quite recently, and have not been previously posted or published. There is a certain satisfaction for me in re-discovering these photos that I took so long ago. They tell me a lot about how much the world has changed, and I myself have changed. And, conversely, they also remind me that so many basic things in the world remain unchanged.

As we cannot travel back in time, photographs are a way to come face to face with the past–to reconnect with it without actually going there. Photographs are also a good memory aid. There is so much information crammed into our brains that forty year old information can slip away very easily. It’s funny that I can remember very clearly taking some of these photos, yet others are a complete mystery. I only know that I must have taken it for a reason. A few photos in this post were taken for a school assignment at Ryerson called “Exploration of the frame” – new and novel ways to frame photos. I’m not sure if I succeeded.

These Toronto street photos bring me joy and feelings of nostalgia. It’s hard to separate them from the memories that surround them: good times with friends at school and at parties, endless hours in the darkroom, the joy of being young and alive with a head full of tunes.

Black and White Film Photography Photography Toronto

1980s black and white film photography street photography street photos Toronto

Published October 10, 2020 by avardw

Recent black and white photos

During the pandemic I have been in relative isolation, and have taken some comfort in returning to black and white photography. It takes me back to the late 1970s when I first learned to process and print black and white film. These days, however, I shoot everything digitally in colour, and do the conversions to monochrome later–it leaves more options.

I’m in my early sixties, which means I grew up with a black-and-white television. When I was young our TV got two channels, both of them snowy. Even shows that had been filmed in colour were, in our household and others like ours, translated into varying shades of grey.

And I loved paging through Life magazine; there, too, reality was shown in black and white. It became my default understanding of what a photo was.

Old family photos in my parents’ and grandparents’ albums, similarly, were in black and white. We had colour film, of course, and I enjoyed my father’s colour slides (shown on a big screen in the living room when we had company or at Christmas). But the basic set of beliefs I had about photos or images was that they were in black and white.

I think there’s some level at which, when I got seriously into photography in my twenties, I was working from that assumption. I still love looking at tonal variation and shades of grey—how a black-and-white photo can contain everything from deepest inky black to a pale, foggy, mist, to white and nearly silver. Black and white isn’t lacking, or second-best; it’s just different. American photographer Robert Frank called it the colours of hope and despair.

And it’s not better. There can be a kind of high-handedness about it, a sort of snooty, superior quality. A whiff of reading Russian novels at breakfast and watching only foreign films, an “I’m better than you” air. That’s an empty pretense, though. There doesn’t need to be any message in using it.

It’s beautiful. Colour is beautiful. Both are great—a pleasure to shoot, a pleasure to look at.