The Image Journey

Published September 26, 2020 by avardw

Wish You Were Here – Curious Scenes in 2020

Wish You Were Here, surrealism, — Brooklyn, Nova Scotia, 2020 – © Avard Woolaver

My Wish You Were Here series aims to challenge the viewers’ attention in a subtle way by finding everyday scenes with elements of whimsy and surrealism. Like Rene Magritte, and Lee Friedlander, I want to make the familiar seem a little strange, but without Photoshop and image manipulation. These photos come about through observation, using juxtaposition, reflection, typography, and scale.

This project has been ongoing for several years now, and also have a black and white series called Wish You Were Here – Monochrome Dreaming. As 2020 has been such a strange and unusual year, I thought these 2020 photos, since the start of the pandemic, may be appropriate for the times.

Here is the introduction to the book, self published in 2018: “When I was a teenage boy in the mid-Seventies, living in rural Nova Scotia, I spent hours studying the album covers created by Hipgnosis, the London-based design group. This was before I grew interested in photography, but, as LPs like Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” or “Ummagumma” played on the turntable, I scrutinized the covers, trying to penetrate the mysteries of the evocative, layered visual compositions. My “Wish You Were Here” is an ongoing photographic project that’s been in the works for several years. I aim to capture images that have a sense of the surreal yet are readily seen in everyday life. Additionally, I try to capture the sense of whimsy and humour that I liked about those album covers. The images come about through observation, rather than with Photoshop or other manipulations. For me, that’s an important aspect of the project–there’s no manipulation of the image. Reflections, juxtaposition, and scale all come into play.”

Blogging Nova Scotia Observation Photography

2020 photography Wish You Were Here

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 Buildings, businesses, parking lots, and people that used to be a part of the city in the 1980s have disappeared, and been replaced by others.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.

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.

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 13, 2020 by avardw

The Social Landscape – For me, it all goes back to Lee.

Lee Friedlander, social landscape, — Digby, Nova Scotia, 2020 – © Avard Woolaver

In the 1960s and 1970s, Lee Friedlander evolved an influential and often imitated visual language of urban “social landscape,” with many of his photographs including fragments of store-front reflections, structures framed by fences, posters and street signs. For the past forty years my own photos have focused on the social landscape, and I owe a lot to Lee for setting me on this course.

I’ve been a fan of Friedlander since I discovered his photographs in the 1970s, in a Time-Life book called Documentary Photography. The writer described the photos as chaotic: “There is a brooding message of disorientation, of something having gone askew in these pictures.” For me, his photos are bursting with creativity, intelligence and deadpan humour–they seem to be the visual equivalent of jazz music. He welcomed foreground obstructions such as poles and trees, and also his own shadow, as a way of creating visual interest. When I was a student at Ryerson, I used to look at a leaf through a book of Lee photos before going out to take photos. He has been one of my main sources of photographic inspiration over the years.

Eric Kim writes in his blog: “Friedlander was interested in capturing “The American social landscape.” This included photographs that included people and also photographs that didn’t include people. I think one of the biggest cruxes in my street photography career so far is the idea that all of my shots had to include people.

If you look at some of Friedlander’s best work, many of them don’t include people. Rather, he focuses on signage, interesting sculptures, numbers, words, letters, cars, and other intimate objects. I think this is actually what makes Friedlander’s work stand out from all of the street photographers from history; the fact that his photos that don’t include people still have so much humanity– and tell a lot about American society.”

Everyone has their own visual take on the world. My photos represent my own vision of the social landscape that has evolved over time. It’s important to give a nod to those who inspired you. Most of the photos in this post were taken quite recently. Lee has been on my mind.

social landscape, Lee Friedlander — Graves Island, Nova Scotia, 2020 – © Avard Woolaver

social landscape, black and white photograph, — Halifax, Nova Scotia, 2013 – © Avard Woolaver

Blogging Photography Social Landscape

black and white photography Lee Friedlander social landscape

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.