Toronto Archives - Page 7 of 17

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.

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.

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

Observation Photography Toronto

allokataplixis photography seeing Toronto 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.

Dundas West and Chestnut, Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

Toronto, visual content — Yonge and St. Mary, Toronto, 1985 – © Avard Woolaver

Toronto Gone — Store Signs, Dundas St. West, Toronto, 1986 – © Avard Woolaver

Black and White Film Photography Photography Social Landscape Toronto

documentary photography Lee Friedlander photography Toronto Toronto Gone visual content

Published August 31, 2020 by avardw

Toronto Gone – Junction Days

Dundas West and Mavety, Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

These are photos taken in a neighborhood of Toronto called, The Junction. I lived in this neighborhood from 1982-1986. For part of that time I was attending Ryerson in the downtown core, and did most of my street photography there. But I also took the time to walk around the Junction with my camera recording everyday scenes. It may have been a little gritty and down-trodden, but the area had a lot of character, a lot of soul.

Today, The Junction is totally revitalized with lots of cafes and bars and a vibrant night life. Back in the 1980s it was a dry area (no alcohol was sold) and it meant a long trek to the liquor on public transit. I miss those carefree days days of my youth.

View of New Image Gallery, Toronto, 1982 – © Avard Woolaver

Mavety at Dundas West, Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

Baird Park, Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

Blogging Film Photography Photography Toronto

Junction Days photography The Junction Toronto Toronto Gone

Published August 26, 2020 by avardw

Toronto Gone – vivid colours; faded memories of The Junction

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 that have been recently scanned or have not been published in my Toronto books.

My memories of living in The Junction have faded. That’s why I’m so glad I have the photos to help me remember my time there (1982-1986). They bring back the feeling of living there and, for me, the colour photos seem to carry a more emotional and psychological component than the black and white ones. It also reminds me the importance and value of the documentary photograph.

Looking at a photo many years later, you may not know exactly why you took it but still be glad you did. Among other things, photography has been a visual diary for me. It helps me remember the places I’ve been and things I’ve seen. Photos can also become valuable documents of things and places that no longer exist.

We never know the full significance of the photos we take. They’re a picture of a moment, and that moment is gone as soon as you’ve taken the picture. That place–or that person, or cloud, or animal–is already changing before you’ve even walked away. We don’t know until much later whether those changes will accrue quickly or gradually. We don’t know if we’ll ever be there again, ever talk with that person again. The relentlessness of change is masked by its ordinariness.

This has been so evident to me in hearing people’s responses to my Toronto series. Taken in the 1980s, they show a city that many feel no longer exists.

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

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

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

Keele Street, Toronto, 1983 – © Avard Woolaver

Photography Toronto

colour photography photography The Junction Toronto Toronto Gone

Toronto Gone – my days in The Junction

Published August 25, 2020 by avardw

Toronto Gone – my days in The Junction

The Junction is a neighborhood in west Toronto with the main intersection being Dundas and Keele. When I lived there in the 1980s, it was gritty and somewhat run down. It was still a dry area then–no alcohol could be sold or served. That meant there were no good restaurants, no bars, and practically no night life. It didn’t seem dangerous, though; just a working class neighborhood with lots of small Mom&Pop shops. It was known as Little Malta because of the large Maltese-Canadian community.

I used to walk around the neighborhood sometimes with my camera. It had a lot of character, a lot of tarnished charm. Living there for four years gave me the opportunity to feel at home, and relaxed. I remember the characters who hung out at Crazy Joe’s Flea Market and Poor Boy Restaurant, the tasty toasted western sandwiches at Mimmo’s Place, Vesuvio’s Pizzeria, the pungent smell from the stockyards when the wind blew the wrong way, and numerous parties and gallery openings at our studio. All of these are gone now.

The Junction has been completely revitalized. It’s no longer down at the heels. The elimination of prohibition in 2001 has been a positive change; there are now lots of cool bars and pubs along Dundas Street West. The Stock Yards is now a huge area of box stores. And the electric lines have all been buried, giving the streets a neater, cleaner look.

It’s been almost forty years since I lived there; time has a way of smoothing out the bad times and magnifying the good ones in a tide of nostalgia. And memories are notoriously fickle. The photos, however, do not change. They are documents, and tell a story of what it was like to live there.