Baking Mixes brings to mind recipes. The recipe for this photo comes via Lee Friedlander. That is: organize a large amount of information in a dynamic composition. Friedlander is a master of this approach. For documentary photography, it seems the more information, the better. It tells us a lot about the culture and society of a specific time and place. I shall keep on photographing the social landscape with a few different recipes, and hopefully learn some new ones before I’m done.
Parade in West Toronto Junction, 1983, featuring the Malta Band Club. The area still has a significant Maltese population.
These are photos from a folder on my computer titled: Toronto Unseen. They are images of Toronto taken in the 1980s and 1990s that have previously not been posted or published–unseen by the public. I will post them periodically on my blog and talk a little about them.
The photo above was taken in 1982, and I’m unsure of the location. I sometimes look at the contact sheet for clues, and it seems that went to the Danforth Music Hall to see a movie, so it may have been taken on the Danforth. I like this one–people waiting for the bus, or a taxi, life in the big city. I was in my second year of photography studies at Ryerson and taking street photos almost every day, on the lookout for scenes like this one. It was on one of the first rolls taken with my Rollei 35–an amazing little camera with a fixed 40mm Zeiss Sonar lens. Totally manual–you even have to guess the focus. It took a bit of getting used to!
This photo was on the first roll of film after I arrived in Toronto in September 1980. It was across the street from my apartment, literally the first thing I saw when I stepped outside to do my first day of shooting and exploring the city. My camera was still loaded with Kodak Panatomic-X that I was shooting in Nova Scotia. I quickly found out that this 32 ASA fine grain film was unsuitable for street photography and switched to Tri-X after that. These two store fronts were a revelation of sorts. I could never have taken this photo anywhere in Nova Scotia. These type of storefronts just didn’t exist, or at least they weren’t easily seen. Toronto was so foreign, and multicultural that it seemed like a different country. It was exciting and amazing, and I had a camera. It was the start of my love affair with Toronto.
Fast forward fourteen years. I’m back in Toronto after the previous six years teaching English in Japan. Toronto seems smaller and more spacious compared to Japanese cities. I’m still shooting with the Rollei 35, doing less street photography, but trying to refine my approach. I wanted my pictures to be more clever, or at least say something more. With this one I tried to juxtapose the sign “for the human race” with the boy, (racing!) across the bridge with his dog.
These days I’m back living in rural Nova Scotia, where I started out. I have few opportunities to do any kind of street photography, but I’m still refining my vision and trying to take time to observe the world around me.
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.”
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I saw many Toronto faces in the 1980s. Often people were present in my street scenes, but not the main feature. But sometimes the people were front and center. My way of approaching people varied, depending on the situation, but I aimed for the moment. Sometimes it seemed better to take a candid photo, whereas other times it seemed more appropriate to talk to the person and ask if I could take a photo.
Many of these photos were taken at Yonge and Dundas, near the entrance to the Eaton Centre–a hub of activity where people of all stripes mixed and mingled and crossed paths. There were buskers, office workers, students, homeless people, and people out shopping. I mostly used a wide angle lens and tried to blend into the environment rather than call attention to myself. And I usually took only one photo of a particular person or group.
Looking back at these photos, I wonder what the children have done in their lives, if the adults are happy in their old age, and if the older adults are still alive. Forty years have passed since I took many of these photos, and so much has changed in Toronto, yet I don’t believe the people have changed much. They still enjoy the thing that make the city unique–sports, entertainment, restaurants, parks, and vibrant neighborhoods. These Toronto faces remind me that although I live in Nova Scotia now, the city keeps calling me back.
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