Toronto Gone Archives - The Image Journey

Published October 16, 2020 by avardw

Toronto Gone – Random scenes, random moments

random scenes, random moments, colour, photography, — High Park, Toronto, 1984 – © Avard Woolaver

I enjoy capturing random scenes and random moments–a stream of consciousness approach that is a bit like meditation with a camera. When I used to walk around Toronto with my camera in the 1980s, I usually had nothing special in mind that I wanted to photograph. The same is true today, some forty years later. It could be the right light or interesting patterns, or a sudden silhouette, any number of things that propel me to press the shutter. The capturing of random scenes is both a strength and a weakness. One one hand there is an absolute freedom to it–capturing anything that gets my attention. On the other side, if there is often no project in mind it seems aimless.

I have learned over time to see themes in my photos that may become apparent after years or may be pointed out by viewers online. That’s part of the beauty of the random approach. It’s like letting your mind wander with a camera in hand, then putting a shape to it later on. For me, editing is a more difficult task than taking the photos, but both are rewarding.

The photos I have chosen for this post have been scanned quite recently, so I find a freshness to them even though they were taken decades ago. Probably only 10 percent of my output in the 1980s was in colour, and for this reason I have a special fondness for them.

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.

Downtown Toronto, 1982 – © Avard Woolaver

Colour Photography Toronto

colour photography random scenes Toronto Gone

Published October 3, 2020 by avardw

Toronto Gone – allokataplixis – seeing the city for the first time

Toronto Skyline from Bleecker Street, Toronto, 1980 – © Avard Woolaver

There’s a new word for describing the marvel of seeing a place for the first time. It is allokataplixis, a conjunction of two Greek words: allo, meaning “other,” and katapliktiko, meaning “wonder.” Professor Liam Heneghan of DePaul University in Chicago coined the word in 2018. He had been taking his students to Ireland every year and noted that they delighted in many things–the food, the smell of the air, architectural details, the local language, as well as many small things they had never seen before. Heneghan grew up in Ireland, but had lived in the United States for many years and no longer looked at Ireland with fresh eyes or noticed its peculiarities. His word really describes my experience of discovering Toronto for the first time. Fresh eyes notice things that accustomed eyes don’t.

The above photo, taken in 1980 shortly after I arrived in Toronto, seems to be a good example of allokataplixis. I had grown up in the country, and never lived in the city. In the first several months everything seemed brand new and my photography studies at Ryerson meant that I had a camera in hand at all times to capture what I saw. I discovered the photo just recently while scanning negatives, and it’s like seeing it for the first time. I marvel now at the numerous geometric shapes, and the contrast between the old buildings and the modern ones in the background. And how the old fashioned antenna and power pole seem to dwarf the CN Tower. After having lived in Toronto for twenty years, I can no longer see it with country eyes. When I visit now, everything seems familiar.

allokataplixis, Toronto, seeing, photography — Carlton Street, Toronto, 1980 – © Avard Woolaver

Observation Photography Toronto

allokataplixis photography seeing Toronto Toronto Gone

Published September 21, 2020 by avardw

Toronto Gone – the departed social landscape

departed, Toronto, social landscape — View from Hanlan’s Point, Toronto, 1981 – © Avard Woolaver

These photos show things that have departed from Toronto’s social landscape since the 1980s. 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 my 1980s Toronto photos are accidental. Their significance now is something I never could have foreseen.

In the above photo the skyline looks relatively sparse. This photo, along with many others I took in the 1980s, shows the disappearance of empty space. The Royal York Hotel is barely visible today, the view crowded out by numerous high rises. The photo below shows a large parking area in the downtown core–another example of once empty space that has been filled in. While some mourn the loss of departed empty space, others, like city planners, welcome it. The condo boom has allowed more people to live in the downtown core, who might otherwise have had to live in the suburbs or in another city.

In the other photos, Jerry’s Camera, Route 66, and Rok’s Milk have all disappeared along with old men in dapper hats, and “Red Rocket” streetcars. I think there are still dinosaurs in Budapest Park (Sir Casmir Gzowski Playground) but the view with the lone high rise is more crowded with numerous towers.

Santa Claus Parade, Toronto, 1981 – © Avard Woolaver

Photography Toronto

1980s film photography Toronto Gone

Published September 14, 2020 by avardw

Toronto Gone – Bay Street suits in the 1980s

When doing street photography in 1980s Toronto, I often walked around the Yonge-Dundas area, or along Queen Street West, or sometimes Kensington Market. I rarely walked around Bay Street because I didn’t have much interest in the corporate world. But in the fall of 1981, I had a school assignment to do a slide show. The subject I chose first was a boxing club in Cabbagetown, but the lighting was too dim. The Toronto Stock Exchange seemed like a better choice. Establishing shots were needed (people going to work on Bay Street), and I spent a few hours one morning photographing men in suits, many carrying briefcases. They’re kind of grim and serious, but professional, and dressed to look sharp. There seemed to be very few women in the crowds.

These photos have lain dormant for almost forty years, and I’m fascinated at seeing them again. A few could almost have been taken in the the 1950s, not the 1980s. Some of the men are in their sixties, meaning they could have been born before 1920. Perhaps they were young children during the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918, or maybe they fought in WWII. When you look at history in terms of generations, 1920 was not that long ago.

Business suits are still worn on Bay Street, but dress codes have become more flexible (especially since the emergence of the tech sector in the early 2000s).

Leanne Delap wrote in the Toronto Star about the shift from three-piece suit to smart casual:

The news earlier this month that the venerable stuffy-suit investment bank Goldman Sachs has adopted a “flexible dress code,” may mark the end of the Bay Street business suit as we know it. America’s fifth largest bank, Goldman Sachs is one of the best-known “white shoe” institutions, a neat old-fashioned term that used to denote century-plus old provenance, and ultra-conservative mannerisms.

A leaked memo sent to Goldman Sachs staff was vague about why changes in the workplace dress were taking place. But it is most likely about a generational shift as a youthquake has come to suit land. More than three-quarters of Goldman Sachs employees were born in 1981 or later, which is a whole lot of millennial and Gen Z preferences to placate for any firm that wants to retain top talent.

Black and White Blogging Photography Toronto

Bay Street photography suits Toronto Gone

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.