Category: <span>Photography</span>

Near Nathan Phillips Square, Toronto, 1982 – © Avard Woolaver

In 1980s Toronto men still wore dapper hats, or “business hats.” I always assumed that it was to hide balding heads, or to protect them from the elements. But it seems, in history, hats were a thing for other reasons. According to Deborah Henderson, a costume designer and the author of four books about men’s headwear, “Throughout history, people wore hats to indicate their social position in the world. Any trade—postman, engineer, pilot—had its own cap. Even lawyers, in the ’50s, all wore fedoras.”

Why did men stop wearing dapper hats? An article from Esquire magazine suggests that nobody has pinpointed one sole reason why men stopped wearing hats. One reason could be the rise in automobile use. “With low roofs meaning you couldn’t wear a hat while driving and generally had no need to cover your head anyway, personal transport often negated the need for headwear.”

Another reason could be the stigma associated with WWII. “Another theory posited suggests that the hat suffered a serious decline after the end of World War II because it was an unwelcome reminder of the time people had spent in uniform. Men who fought did not want to wear hats with civilian clothes after the war.”

Benjamin Leszcz writes in Canadian Business, “A potent social signifier, hats identified a man’s role in society. (Hence the idiom of “putting one’s [insert profession] hat on.”) Little surprise, then, that the individualism of the ’60s and ’70s rejected the rule-bound world of hats, embracing anti-establishment afros, flowing locks and blow-dryer-enabled atrocities. By the late ’80s, the hat stigma faded, and every couple of years since, fashion journalists proclaim the hat’s comeback. Today, hats are runway stalwarts, and classic brands—like Borsalino, Stetson and Biltmore, which until recently was based in Guelph, Ont.—are holding steady. But hats will never entirely come back. The shift is decisive: historically, men wore hats to fit in; today, men wear hats to stand out.”

These days when I visit Toronto the people I see wearing dapper hats are thirty-something hipsters going for that vintage look.

Photos from the series: Toronto Gone – highlighting the buildings, businesses, parking lots, and people that used to be a part of the city in the 1980s, that have disappeared, and been replaced by others. It’s part of the inevitable cycle of death and rebirth, of disappearance and reappearance.

Yonge and College, Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

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Queen and Bathurst, Toronto, 1984 – © Avard Woolaver

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Queen and Bathurst, Toronto, 1984 – © Avard Woolaver

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Queen and Bathurst, Toronto, 1984 – © Avard Woolaver

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Allan Gardens, Toronto, 1982 – © Avard Woolaver

Photography Social Landscape Toronto

Bloor West and Parkview Gardens Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

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.

Here is an excerpt from Shawn Micallef’s piece in the Toronto Star about my Toronto Days exhibition in 2018:

“Photographs of Toronto from the recent past are often the most fascinating. Those from recent decades look a lot like images of today, but are just a little different compared to those from a century ago, which can be unrecognizable. Those are great too, but pictures of Toronto from the decades before the now 20-year building boom began particularly fascinate me.

It’s a city that’s still in the living memory of many people, but easy to forget as the pace of change here has been so quick. “Toronto Days” is an exhibition at Ryerson University’s School of Image Arts of Avard Woolaver’s photographs of the city taken between 1980 and 1995 and are a compelling look back — but not too far back.

The great genius of the Netflix sci-fi series Black Mirror is that it’s set in the not-too-distant future, where the differences, mostly technological, are subtle. It’s a future we can instantly recognize and relate to, just like Woolaver’s Toronto, a city just before the city we know today caught in a kind of a dreamy haze.

It’s a city of parking lots, rusted cars, “fishbowl” buses with bulging windshields, endless cigarettes and men wearing proper hats. The skyline in Woolaver’s photos is thin too, and empty lots along King and Queen streets seem like photos of a rust-belt city rather than the bustling neighbourhoods we know today.

Woolaver began taking his Toronto photos when he moved here from Nova Scotia to study photography at Ryerson. Influenced by great social landscape photographers such as Lee Friedlander and Robert Frank, taking pictures was a way to get to know his new city.”

I will be posting more from the series: Toronto Gone over the coming months, and it may lead to a new book.

Dundas West and Bloor West, Toronto, 1985 – © Avard Woolaver

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Dundas West and Keele, Toronto, 1982 – © Avard Woolaver

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Bloor West and Keele, Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

Blogging Photography Toronto

Yonge and Dundas, Toronto, 1982 – © Avard Woolaver

Looking back now at the photos I spent my precious film on back then, so much comes back to me about dropped into a new environment. We use our creative tools as extensions of ourselves; they help us understand and define our place in the world. For me, having a camera in my hand at all times helped me remember, You only get to do this once. We have to take time and see it, as clearly as we can.

I will be posting more from the series: Toronto Gone over the coming months–photos taken in Toronto in the 1980s and 1990s. It may lead to a new book.

Biltmore Theatre, Toronto, 1982 – © Avard Woolaver

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Dundas West and Runnymede, Toronto, 1984 – © Avard Woolaver

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Malta Band Club, Toronto, 1985 – © Avard Woolaver

Blogging Photography Toronto

Allan Gardens, Toronto, 1981 – © Avard Woolaver

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 the photos are accidental. Their significance now is something I never could have foreseen.

I will be posting more from the series: Toronto Gone over the coming months–photos taken in Toronto in the 1980s and 1990s. It may lead to a new book.

Bulova Tower, Toronto, 1982 – © Avard Woolaver

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Cabbagetown, Toronto, 1982,
Carlton Street, Toronto, 1981 – © Avard Woolaver

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Cabbagetown, Toronto, 1982,
Cabbagetown, Toronto, 1981 – © Avard Woolaver

Blogging Photography Toronto

Yonge and Bloor, Toronto, 1982 – © Avard Woolaver

During the years 1980-1986, I did a lot of street photography in Toronto. For the past four years I have been scanning an archive of this material, and posting it online. Toronto Gone represents the final photos, the ones I have not posted before or published.

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 the photos are accidental. Their significance now is something I never could have foreseen.

I still feel the same way about Toronto as I did when I took the photos, thirty-odd years ago. I still love the vibrant neighborhoods, the parks, the restaurants and beaches. And the people are nice, not overly friendly but civil and courteous. I haven’t lived there for 15 years but it still feels comfortable, like home.

There are roughly 25,000 images in my files, with 90 percent of them black and white negatives. There hasn’t been a much of a method to the scanning–just choose the strongest photos. It has made me realize that I was a poor editor when I took the photos, and I’m a bit more proficient today. In the ’80s, I mostly processed the film, made contact sheets, and moved on. Sometimes I took the time to study the contact sheets, and on occasion made work prints or exhibition prints of the best images.

Looking at these images today I have a lot of time to reflect on them. Many of the photos I have no recollection of taking; I just know they were taken for a reason. (And the reason usually had to be good one. I didn’t waste much film then on frivolous photos; film, paper, and chemicals were not cheap on a student budget.) Colour cost more than black-and-white, and my access to a colour darkroom was limited. I usually took only one photo of a person or scene, unless it was an event like a parade. And even then, most of the photo were one-offs. For this reason it is sometimes difficult to pinpoint a location.

I will be posting more from the series: Toronto Gone over the coming months, and it may lead to a new book.

Yonge Street Toronto, 1980 – © Avard Woolaver

Blogging Photography Toronto