My latest self-published photo book is titled Found Fields – available through Blurb Books.
Found Fields refers to my approach when taking photos: scenes found in my field of vision. Photographers often call it being a gatherer rather than a hunter—finding scenes by chance, rather than intentionally hunting them down. Many of my photos are taken during my daily routine, or just going somewhere ordinary. Of course, I’m attracted to novelty–going to new places, seeing new things. But I also love seeing familiar scenes, places that I have photographed many times before, and discovering once more that nothing ever looks the same way twice.
Over the years I’ve learned always to carry a camera, and, even more important, to take time to study details of the world around me. In refining my vision and technique, I also strive for images that, I hope, carry some deeper meaning.
The photos in this book show some themes that I have been exploring for a long time now (societal issues; climate change; the failure of capitalism), along with wonderment, and, sometimes, the sheer absurdity of life. I think of the photos collected here as being both optimistic and pessimistic, in roughly equal measure. Ultimately, though, I have a great deal of hope for the future, and I trust these images reflect that. Photography has always been magic for me, and the camera a loyal memory maker.
Found Fields
Photographs by Avard Woolaver
Softcover, 54 pages; 50 colour photos
20 x 25 cm / 8 x 10 in.
My latest self-published photo book is titled Toronto Hi-Fi – available through Blurb Books.
Music has accompanied me wherever I’ve lived. When I moved to Toronto in 1980 to study photography at Ryerson, naturally my stereo system came with me. I had bought it three years earlier in Halifax–my first proper stereo with hi-fi sound. With an Akai 60 watt-per-channel amp, Dual turntable, Akai reel-to-reel, and Bose 301 speakers, it was my pride and joy.
The purchase of this stereo in 1977 coincided with the dawn of my interest in photography. I learned to process and print black and white film in the Camera Club at Acadia University and was instantly hooked. My newfound fascination with Lee Friedlander, Robert Frank, and Elliott Erwitt paralleled my discovery of John Coltrane, Howlin’ Wolf, and the Allman Brothers.
Throughout the years these two interests have remained intertwined–walking around with film (or a memory card) in my camera, and songs in my head.
The Toronto Hi-Fi photo seen below, and on the front cover, was taken before I moved Toronto. I had flown up in August 1980 to find an apartment and shot it on my first night in the city; it’s one of my very first Toronto photos.
Toronto Hi-Fi Photographs by Avard Woolaver Hardcover, 42 pages; 89 b&w photos 20 x 25 cm / 8 x 10 in.
Toronto In Colour: the 1980s is my recent collection of Toronto photographs, and is now available at Blurb Books. A recent feature on a popular Toronto site BlogTO has brought my photos to a new audience. I thought I’d post a few of my favourites, as well as some outtakes from the book.
In the years 1980 to 1986, I shot about 800 rolls of film, most of them street photographs. Of the thousands of photos only about 10% were in colour. I tended to look for different scenes when I had colour film in my camera–usually Kodacolor II, but sometimes Ektachrome or Kodachrome. I would think in terms of “light and colour” rather than “tones and the moment.” So, I sought out slightly different subject matter than when shooting in black and white.
Book Introduction to Toronto In Colour: the 1980s
There is a feeling of freedom walking around a city with a camera. At 62, I still have that feeling but it was more pronounced when I was in my mid twenties, studying photography as a student at Ryerson Polytechnical Institute. I took a lot of photographs in my early years in Toronto, capturing street scenes and ordinary aspects of daily life that happened to catch my eye. American photographer Henry Wessel sums up my approach in this way: “Part of it has to do with the discipline of being actively receptive. At the core of this receptivity is a process that might be called soft eyes. It is a physical sensation. You are not looking for something. You are open, receptive. At some point you are in front of something that you cannot ignore.”
I had no way to anticipate how significant these Toronto photos would seem to me 30 years later. They show things that no longer exist, even though it hasn’t been that long. Without necessarily trying to, I caught images of buildings, cars, fashions, gadgets that are no longer part of our world. Toronto’s entire skyline is utterly changed, part of the inevitable growth and evolution.
Back in the 1980s I would shoot a roll of film (usually black and white), process it a few days later and make a contact sheet. After that I might make an enlargement of one or two of the strongest shots, and then move on. The contact sheets may have been reviewed from time to time when I was preparing for an exhibition, but basically I didn’t look at them for years and years.
Looking back, I wish I had taken more colour photos, but I’m thankful for the ones I have. There were reasons for not shooting much colour. First, there was the added cost; second, I didn’t have much access to a colour darkroom to make prints. And in those days black and white was the preferred medium for fine art and documentary photographers. Ernst Haas was one of the few to exhibit colour photographs. William Eggleston, Stephen Shore, Edward Burtynsky and other colour specialists were just emerging, and colour photography was not yet fully accepted in the art world.
There is a sense of hyper realism in a colour photograph, like looking at a Technicolor movie, that you don’t get with the more abstract black and white view. Japanese photographer Shin Noguchi is one of my favourites. Chuck Patch writes, in the introduction to Noguchi’s In Colour in Japan, “He prefers shooting in colour, because he says, black and white distances his audience by interjecting a layer of artifice between the viewer and the ‘Real World.’” And there’s also the psychological component of how the colours make us feel. Toronto In Colour: the 1980s is a collection of colour photos not seen in the three Toronto books I assembled previously; many of these images, in fact, haven’t ever been posted or published at all.
Toronto In Colour: the 1980s is my recent collection of Toronto photographs, and is now available at Blurb Books. In the years 1980 to 1986, I shot about 800 rolls of film, most of them street photographs. Of the thousands of photos only about 10% were in colour. I tended to look for different scenes when I had colour film in my camera–usually Kodacolor II, but sometimes Ektachrome or Kodachrome. I would think in terms of “light and colour” rather than “tones and the moment.” So, I sought out slightly different subject matter than when shooting in black and white.
Book Introduction to Toronto In Colour: the 1980s – There is a feeling of freedom walking around a city with a camera. At 62, I still have that feeling but it was more pronounced when I was in my mid twenties, studying photography as a student at Ryerson Polytechnical Institute. I took a lot of photographs in my early years in Toronto, capturing street scenes and ordinary aspects of daily life that happened to catch my eye. American photographer Henry Wessel sums up my approach in this way: “Part of it has to do with the discipline of being actively receptive. At the core of this receptivity is a process that might be called soft eyes. It is a physical sensation. You are not looking for something. You are open, receptive. At some point you are in front of something that you cannot ignore.”
I had no way to anticipate how significant these Toronto photos would seem to me 30 years later. They show things that no longer exist, even though it hasn’t been that long. Without necessarily trying to, I caught images of buildings, cars, fashions, gadgets that are no longer part of our world. Toronto’s entire skyline is utterly changed, part of the inevitable growth and evolution.
Back in the 1980s I would shoot a roll of film (usually black and white), process it a few days later and make a contact sheet. After that I might make an enlargement of one or two of the strongest shots, and then move on. The contact sheets may have been reviewed from time to time when I was preparing for an exhibition, but basically I didn’t look at them for years and years.
Looking back, I wish I had taken more colour photos, but I’m thankful for the ones I have. There were reasons for not shooting much colour. First, there was the added cost; second, I didn’t have much access to a colour darkroom to make prints. And in those days black and white was the preferred medium for fine art and documentary photographers. Ernst Haas was one of the few to exhibit colour photographs. William Eggleston, Stephen Shore, Edward Burtynsky and other colour specialists were just emerging, and colour photography was not yet fully accepted in the art world.
There is a sense of hyper realism in a colour photograph, like looking at a Technicolor movie, that you don’t get with the more abstract black and white view. Japanese photographer Shin Noguchi is one of my favourites. Chuck Patch writes, in the introduction to Noguchi’s In Colour in Japan, “He prefers shooting in colour, because he says, black and white distances his audience by interjecting a layer of artifice between the viewer and the ‘Real World.’” And there’s also the psychological component of how the colours make us feel. Toronto In Colour: the 1980s is a collection of colour photos not seen in the three Toronto books I assembled previously; many of these images, in fact, haven’t ever been posted or published at all.
Toronto In Colour: the 1980s photographs by Avard Woolaver Hardcover, 44 pages; 89 colour photos 20 x 25 cm / 8 x 10 in.
Here are a few photos from the book. I hope you enjoy them!
The photos in my new book, Toronto In Colour: the 1980s, were taken during my time studying at Ryerson and a few years beyond graduation. I was doing street photography, looking for interesting people and scenes. My contact sheets formed a sort of visual diary. I carried my camera everywhere and shot about 800 rolls of film.
These images lay dormant for over thirty years. In 2016, with the encouragement of a friend and former classmate Michael Amo, I began scanning the negatives and posting the images on social media. Seeing images that had lain dormant for thirty-plus years was certainly a voyage of rediscovery! It seems there is a sense of nostalgia in the work. People love to remember their younger days and see a city that in some ways no longer exists. I thought that producing books would be a good way to edit the work and give it some structure. I put a lot of effort into the selection and sequencing of the images.
My intention is to connect with people in a meaningful way. Photography is one way of doing this. Toronto In Colour: the 1980s will be released on December 15, 2020, and will be for sale at Blurb Books.
Here are a few photos from the book. My camera sees the darndest things.
