This photo, taken outside the Sears Warehouse in Toronto in 1980, brings to mind the song “Working Man” by Rush and the wonderful work of American photographer Harry Callahan.
The Sears Warehouse, located near Church and Dundas, was converted into lofts in the late 1990s and is now called the Merchandise Building. The original building was built in various stages from 1910 to 1949 for the Simpson’s department store, and was later owned by Sears Canada. It is an example of the Chicago School style of architecture.
Back when I was growing up in the 1970s my grandfather George Mason used to wear a dress hat on special occasions, or when he went into town. I always thought they looked cool, and probably tried them on from time to time. When I moved to Toronto in 1980, I noticed that older men were still wearing these hats. Perhaps took note of them and photographed them because of my grandfather.
I always assumed men wore dress hats, or “business hats” 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 dress 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 dress hats are thirty-something hipsters going for that vintage look.
A lot of my photographic approach boils down to noticing details. (And having a receptive mind, and a camera in hand.) Pretty much everything in the world can be explained by science and mathematics, but when it comes to art, all bets are off. There is a sense of mystery in the world that the artistic side of our minds seek to expose and illuminate.
The Brian Eno song “Sky Saw” offers an insight on this topic:
All the clouds turn to words All the words float in sequence No one knows what they mean Everyone just ignores them
Recently I took a trip to Toronto, a city which I love, and lived in from 1980-1986, and then again from 1993-2005. Nova Scotia is my home now, but I always enjoy visiting the place where I attended university, made friends, got married, had a family, and did a lot of photography.
The purpose of my visit was to deliver photos to The City of Toronto Archives. I’m honoured that there will be a permanent collection of my photos there. It is deeply satisfying that these photos, taken rather randomly in the 1980s and 1990s, will live on and be a part of Toronto’s rich history. (Check out the Ellis Wiley collection if you have a chance.) By randomly, I only mean that at the time I did not intend to document the city in any particular way; only photograph scenes that caught my eye. It will take several months for the photos (700 digital images) to be catalogued, and at the end of it I hope to have an exhibition at the Archives.
During my stay in Toronto, I had a chance to get out and walk around with my camera, just like in the old days. I’m posting black and white photos here because that is what I mainly shot in the 1980s. There have been so many changes in the city over the past several years, yet so many places and aspects of Toronto remain the same. It was a pleasure to explore the city once again with fresh eyes.
What have I been up to lately? Well, spending a bit more time in urban settings, and using a new DSLR that provides a different perspective from my iphone. These recent black and white photos are a mix of street photography and new topographics which aim to let the tones tell part of the story.
The photos, when viewed on a phone, or even a laptop, are so small. I wish they could be seen on a larger scale as some of them contain a information not easily seen in a small photo.
