Black Cloud Hovers Over Nuit Blanche

 I don't claim prescience, but about this time in 2012 and again in 2013 I thought Nuit Blanche was heading for, if not trouble, then certainly a turn for the worse. The reason was as obvious as some of the installations I've seen while traipsing around Hogtown during the overnight outdoor festival.

Here's what I posted in 2012:  Also standing out were the Yahoos, or should that be yahoos? They were smoking dope, drinking, I dunno, vodka coolers? and generally behaving like jerks. Party hearty, boys and girls. But do it on your own patch. 

The doper-vodka cooler crowd I saw on Yonge Street near Gould Street. I wish I hadn't. 

Here's what I posted in 2013:  I have nothing against fun, levity, high spirits, street theatre, drinking, and a general good time. Nor do I want the night to become just for the arty and the earnest, because the transformational power of art, even for those who don't "get it" there and then is enormous. But I get the distinct impression that Nuit Blanche is becoming a pretext for a certain stratum of cementhead to wander among the crowds being obnoxious simply because they can.

I'm not the only observer to wonder about where Nuit Blanche is going: drunks, pools of vomit, loud, exaggerated bonhomie that can seem threatening to some, and so on were all on display this year. As well, two young men were stabbed and one of them died, although it's not at all clear if these crimes were somehow related to the festival. So, what to do? Nuit Blanche needs a White Knight to come in and clean things up without becoming a killjoy. Because if a hero on a white charger doesn't show up soon to save Nuit Blanche then the police and city authorities will start bearing down, and that means the end of a brilliant art night in Hogtown. 

I saw examples of this cementheadedness along King Street West, and again at the corner of King  and Spadina Avenue. I wish I hadn't. 

Now we know that a group or groups of the stupid and obnoxious (and criminal) attacked the police at Yonge Dundas Square this Nuit Blanche. From what I've seen on YouTube these losers look remarkably similar in age and appearance - almost exclusively male, not long out of high school, and dressed in the banal uniform of the street lout - to those I saw a few years ago. And we also know that Scotiabank has yanked its sponsorship of Nuit Blanche. I don't blame the bank at all. I'm not a fan of corporate arts sponsorship (it's just marketing otherwise writ), but without Scotiabank's cash - or some other sponsor to step in - it's hard to see how the festival can continue, at least at it's current size and scope. Hogtown and the province won't stump up, that much seems certain.

This city is a major arts venue, only bested by a few other places - New York, London, Paris - that have been in the game a lot longer. The drunken and the doped up can't be allowed to spoil it.      

Luminato Crime Free at TRL

If I were in a leaky lifeboat with Nuit Blanche and Luminato and I had to throw one of them overboard to save myself it would be Luminato. Why? Nuit Blanche is free at the venue, free in the street, Luminato is not, or at least most of its events are not. So imagine my surprise when I found out - thanks to Bill Clark at Toronto Writers Co-op - that Luminato is hosting an afternoon of Scandinavian crime fiction Sunday June 8 in the Bluma Appel Salon at the Toronto Reference Library. 

On the panel will be Norway's Thomas Enger, Jakob Melander from Denmark, Dan T. Sehlberg from Sweden and Herman Koch from The Netherlands. Herman's not a Scandinavian, of course, so I'll be interested to see how his views differ from those of his Nordic colleagues. And if his books have been translated into English I'd like to get ahold of them too. My knowledge of Dutch crime fiction is abysmal - OK, non-existent. In fact, I can only name one Dutch sleuth and that's Amsterdam cop Piet Van der Valk, a series written by Britain's Nicholas Freeling.

The MC next Sunday is Noah Richler. Tickets are free but have to be reserved - online is quickest and best. 

Nuit Blanche Needs White Knight to Clean Up Mess

At Nuit Blanche this year I found what I call the "brain scan" exhibit on the U of T campus, Ai WeiWei's bicycle installation, scenes from Romeo and Juliet in various parts of a condo building on King Street West, a pair of cars programmed to drive themselves around and around and not crash into each other, and the guy whose embroidery was being projected onto a screen so visitors could watch him stitch by stitch, all admirable, all intriguing. I would have added the huge inflatable insect installation to the list above, but my experience was ruined by some arty student type telling a friend and me that "insects are not that big in real life, guys." My reply was not what he wanted and he wandered away mumbling about perception and reality.

On the downside was something I blogged about last October - yahoos out for a street party. I have nothing against fun, levity, high spirits, street theatre, drinking, and a general good time. Nor do I want the night to become just for the arty and the earnest, because the transformational power of art, even for those who don't "get it" there and then is enormous. But I get the distinct impression that Nuit Blanche is becoming a pretext for a certain stratum of cementhead to wander among the crowds being obnoxious simply because they can.

I'm not the only observer to wonder about where Nuit Blanche is going: drunks, pools of vomit, loud, exaggerated bonhomie that can seem threatening to some, and so on were all on display this year. As well, two young men were stabbed and one of them died, although it's not at all clear if these crimes were somehow related to the festival. So, what to do? Nuit Blanche needs a White Knight to come in and clean things up without becoming a killjoy. Because if a hero on a white charger doesn't show up soon to save Nuit Blanche then the police and city authorities will start bearing down, and that means the end of a brilliant art night in Hogtown.   

A White Night, A Black Star and Yahoos

Off to Nuit Blanche last Saturday. Joined some others at the corner of Yonge and Gould and headed to the Ryerson Image Centre for the public opening of the Black Star Collection of photojournalism archive. Wonderful!  But a qualified wonderful! The photographs themselves were splendid, and the video reflections inspired by the collection by Michael Snow, Vera Frenkel and others made stimulating viewing. Of them all, Frenkel's work left the strongest impression. Her mother escaped Nazi Europe on the storied Blue Train and the long, lingering shots of a single train track were chilling, bringing home the horror of that infamous single rail line that lead straight to the gates of Auschwitz, and reminding me just how random life can be.

Far less impressive were the disdainful arty types - dressed in black, a pained look plastered on that spoke either of their dismay at mixing with the Hogtown hoi polloi or their sore feet - who seemed to be out in force. Hey guys, here's a clue: art is for everyone even those who've never heard of Todd Webb. Equally unimpressive, from a strictly sentimental point of view, was the Image Centre itself. Oh, as a building it does just fine, but it stands on the site of the old Journalism School where I tried to learn the fundamentals of hack-dom so many years ago.

There were plenty of other exhibits that stood out: the End of the World presentation at Nathan Phillips Square; the High Five Contest at the corner of University and Queen St. West;  exhibits at the Gladstone, the Drake and all points west (my route). Also standing out were the Yahoos, or should that be yahoos? They were smoking dope, drinking, I dunno, vodka coolers? and generally behaving like jerks. Party hearty, boys and girls. But do it on your own patch.

Zine and Heard: Performance Installation at Nuit Blanche

Nuit Blanche is upon us. I haven't seen the entire lineup of exhibits, but one I've read about is already on my "must visit" list. It's a performance installation at the Gladstone Hotel by a gathering of artists' groups organized by the Madeleine Collective. Called the 12 HR Zine Machine project, the challenge - the performance - for these ten groups and zine makers will be to create a new zine every hour that will be printed and distributed during the night from ideas submitted by Nuit Blanche visitors. As well as submitting their ideas, these same visitors can also create their own zine art that will be integrated into the finished zines themselves. 

To ensure a healthy supply of ideas and to drum up a little publicity for the installation, there's a twelve hour "zine machine workshop extravaganza" with food, booze, music and of  course zine making tomorrow night, Thursday, August 23 from 6:00pm at the Rustic Owl Cafe at 993 Bloor St. West. Donations for materials and the installation itself are welcome.

For more info about the project click over to www.12hrzinemachine.com.  Featured zine makers at Nuit Blanche September 29 include Shameless Magazine, Taddle Creek and Mammalian Diving Reflex, this last surely as original a name as my favourite band moniker, A Foot in Cold Water. 

A White Night

I'm truly looking forward to Nuit Blanche in a couple of weeks. Our own up all night arts omnium gatherum is one of the better events to have settled in Hogtown over the last few years. The reason is obvious, at least to me: the exhibits that are smart, provocative, original, critical and daring are balanced just about evenly by other exhibits that are juvenile, trite, vapid, pointless, inept and out and out ridiculous. The fun, of course, comes from sorting one from the other, fuelled by cheap Chinese food, a litre or two of coffee, and barely disguised contempt for pseudo-hipsters in their stupid hipster hats pretending in front of this exhibit or that.

I have no idea what to expect this year, except more Chinese food, more coffee, more pseudo-hipsters. Oh, and some delightful surprises and an equal number of less than delightful disappointments. But that's art.