The Last Goodbye at Summerhill

I'm busy so you get this bit of lovely. Found with a description via Torontoist.

subways and Fort York

Twitter is something else, eh guys?

I just sit here and everyone else finds links for me. It's great. I don't even know I want to find something until it appears. When it does I just have to write about it.

This go round we're talking architecture and public transit to start. We'll see where we end up.

Designboom had a neat post the other day detailing the best subway architecture going. I will now commence moving some of their pictures over here, then adding my own limited commentary. This post is basically me giggling uncontrollably at neat things and wanting to share said giggles more fully than a simple link would allow.

Holy Stockholm Batman! The entire system is stuffed with artwork, and they have some great design features, including the hacked out of stone feel in a lot of stations.

I'm always a fan of mashing the hyper-future into unfinished and naturally riotous spaces. The notion bears a connection to my aesthetic appreciation for classical architecture and the modern; having a sleek, electric tram silently snaking through a centuries old city-centre or a new windmill silhouetted in the skyline beside an ancient, stone belfry.

Nice lights Munich.

The joys of building a system starting in 1972 and being able to incorporate what other cities have already learned.

This one reminds me of St. Clair West station in Toronto, which reminds me of a lot of Metro stations in Montreal (not that I've visited them particularly intensively). Both in the colours and in the high ceilings. I love how that mirrored ceiling makes the space last forever.

Tempo from St. Clair West station. It's nice, but not all encompassing like the above example. I understand that making the station itself into the art (or at least part of the art on display) can be more expensive and difficult, but with bigger risks come bigger rewards (sometimes).

I like the clean lines in this Bilbao station. Apparently the whole system and all its stations were designed byFoster + Partners.

Or this epilepsy inducing little number in Shanghai. Because this transit system is so short it's more about the sound and light display you experience than actually moving.

Check out the amazing texture on the wall in Prague.

And the opulence you can find in Moscow.

Just because I like the future combined with nature, doesn't mean having a straight-up future future future is now look is bad, like they have at Drassanes Station in Barcelona.

So what to take from all this?

Basically we need to be bold. I'm aware of economic restrictions, but you HAVE to be willing to spend money. Something like a subway station can't be changed after the fact terribly easily, so you have to get it right the first time (I don't mean get it right in the sense that a perfect solution can be found, but instead that we need to remember this is building the city for the next 40, 60, 100 years and to change a design to save $200 000 now might result in pain and bother for years to come). Spend the money and after the basic architecture requirements are met, turn it over to the artists, or even better have the artists and architects working together from the beginning.

As people move through a transit system everyday, their existence is at least partially defined by the spaces that they pass through. If you make those spaces big, bold and inspiring the people get something positive from it. Prioritize these spaces and invest in them.

If the people hate the art I'm willing to bet they're going to complain, and THAT's good too! Complaint leads to more discussion and more discussion leads to more change. Nothing about art or architecture is static and the next big project will be influenced by the last.

The key thing to remember - and probably also the most difficult thing to wrap your head around given the brief time-spans most people and governments operate on - is that each one of these projects is building towards an unseen city of the future. The infrastructure and groundwork we lay now is what will support the layers of urban citizenship that will arrive in forms unseen tomorrow. And in an even more perfect world the groundwork we lay now should also appreciate some of that which was built in the past. The city exists in time as much as it does space.

It's tough. Even the best conjecture lacks absolute certainty. The people trying to envision what is to come and build accordingly are going to receive all sorts of complaints around cost and style. Only years later will people be able to see the brilliance and foresight in what they built (think of the under-bridge subway line on the Bloor Viaduct. If that hadn't been a possible add-on in the original bridge design the entire subway system in Toronto would be vastly different, or at least have cost way more). And of course, some of the ideas won't pan out, giving all the naysayers something to point to.

Toronto did get a mention in the above article, Museum Station's redesign was considered cool enough for a comment.

And I agree. They did a good thing here. It is a retrofit but imagine the fun they could have had if designing this station from scratch, trying to capture the same themes and images. Oh boy!

-----

One more thing, non-subway, before I go.

Toronto is designing a new Fort York Visitor Centre. You can see the design proposals on Spacing Toronto. They're pretty neat and while I haven't passed judgement on any one, I recommend having a look at 4 first because its aerial view gives you a better idea of what's going on spatially.

This project interestingly connects to the previous post on the Gardiner Expressway. Fort York used to be right beside the lake. It's not anymore due to fill dumping and land extension, and is now wedged between the city and the Gardiner Expressway and the proposed visitor centre is actually going to exist at least in part beneath the elevated road.

As I said above, all these discussions on aesthetics are ongoing, with each piece adding to and elaborating previous physical opinions. Installing a fantastically designed visitor centre underneath the Gardiner brings together multiple eras, revealing both distinct moments of design (history, culture, society and everything) and how a moment in design-time lasts. Even after fashions change.

Just as a city's people move about and interact to provide its ever-changing social nature, a city's built aspects are not static. Each new piece of architecture reinterprets what is already there or was there before. Complete erasure (burying the Gardiner for instance) is not always feasible not necessarily desirable.

Given the Gardiner's decades-long role in Toronto and the lessons it has taught around prioritizing cars above people and neighbourhoods, re-interpreting it with more people friendly additions is a better way to go. As long as everything that gets built, no matter how avant-garde, remembers the person is the city's most important unit, it's difficult to really go wrong.

From pretty picture of train stations, to 200 year old forts and an expressway often called an eyesore, it's like a never-ending magical acid trip up in here.

poetry and the TTC (not necessarily in that order)

Where does one rant?

Is it here?

Okay. 2 rants. One price (free). Oh, and there is no connection between the two.

Rant number 1: TTC fare increase

I'm not mad at the TTC, that would be dumb. Why would I be mad at an organization whose job it is to move people from point A to point B. They're not trying to make a shit-ton of money while doing it, just break even. And yet, people are losing their minds that fare prices are going up. Going bananas at the temerity. How dare they charge me more?

Instead, these people should be getting mad at multiple levels of government that claim to support public transit but fail when it comes to anteing up the money. Either giving nothing or attempting some misguided tax write-off silliness.

Public transit is great. Public transit is vital for a connected, thriving city. To say nothing about where greening initiatives would be without it. Public transit needs more respect.

And, as an aside, streetcars make such a great noise when they're zipping along. It's a hum, but with a tenor cadence, throbbing in the underbelly of the sound. I like the word thrum to describe this noise and have been using it a lot lately. Any other suggestions?

Rant number 2: poetry

What's up with that stuff?

I'm trying to read some right now, but I miss a lot. Some of the poems I fall into, I find the cadence, understand the words and get what's going on. Some remain obscure to me, but although I try to parse a meaning from the metaphor and fail I still find pleasure in the flow and lyric of the thing. Then finally, there are the poems I don't get, at all.

When I read a poem I adjust my reading style, trying to savour the word and form laid before me, and avoid my normal quick read that hunts for narrative and drops details in the process. Sometimes it even works, as a line's structure pokes me in the eye, a word choice makes me smile or nod. My appreciation for poetry ends up stemming more from self-satisfaction at gaining entry to an imagined poetry in-group than any sense of actual understanding.

It wouldn't concern me, but there are way more poems I have no clue about than ones I get. Makes me worry I'm doing something wrong. Does anyone have expertise in poetry, whether reading or writing? Would they like to start a poetry circle? Or maybe just lend or point me towards a book.

How to Expose Your Soul to A Raging Tempest: The poetry teachings of Franz Léderée

Maybe that book exists?

Heh, who knows. In the meantime I guess I'll just keep reading and experimenting and seeing what results. Poetry is difficult because of its density. It requires and sometimes demands re-reading. Like the rest of my daily existence my adventures in poetry will be better served by living with the moment, re-reading to find additional meaning, having patience with what is before me.

Watched this documentary about Leonard Cohen and he apparently spent (spends?) 5 hours a day writing and editing. I'm sure that's part of the answer to my dilemma as well. He is also described as a "very confident young man" who keeps all his correspondence and makes sure to have many photos taken; the duties of one who considers himself the record keeper of a generation but with very little ego, apparently.

He also claimed to have chosen a path infinitely wide and without direction. Sounds like me, so that's gotta be a plus!

(EDIT: I've taken off the Leonard Cohen video because its automatic play function was getting a bit annoying. You can still watch it here.)

And let's sign off with a little taste of some of the good stuff I'm muddling through, the Frank O'Hara poem Mayakovsky was used in an episode of Mad Men. Or at least the 4th stanza was. Caught my ear. So hear it is in word form.

1

My heart's aflutter!

I am standing in the bath tub

crying. Mother, mother

who am I? If he

will just come back once

and kiss me on the face

his coarse hair brush

my temple, it's throbbing!

then I can put on my clothes

I guess, and walk the streets.

2

I love you. I love you,

but I'm turning to my verses

and my heart is closing

like a fist.

Words! be

sick as I am sick, swoon,

roll back your eyes, a pool,

and I'll stare down

at my wounded beauty

which at best is only a talent

for poetry.

Cannot please, cannot charm or win

what a poet!

and the clear water is thick

with bloody blows on its head.

I embraced a cloud,

but when I soared

it rained.

3

That's funny! there's blood on my chest

oh yes, I've been carrying bricks

what a funny place to rupture!

and now it is raining on the ailanthus

as I step out onto the window ledge

the tracks below me are smoky and

glistening with a passion for running

I leap into the leaves, green like the sea

4

Now I am quietly waiting for

the catastrophe of my personality

to seem beautiful again,

and interesting, and modern.

The country is grey and

brown and white in trees,

snows and skies of laughter

always diminishing, less funny

not just darker, not just grey.

It may be the coldest day of

the year, what does he think of

that? I mean, what do I? And if I do,

perhaps I am myself again.

Hopefully I got that all right. Goodnight. Work starts anew demain. Hard run in to Christmas.

work

Regular employment kills blogging.

A vicious combination of waking early, doing the same things each day then being too tired for evening adventures doesn't leave much to say.

Now, I'm not doing exactly the same thing each day and every once in a while a child will say something mildly amusing but that's the limit of it unfortunately. There are no kids getting trampled by horses or chewed on by geese. I don't want that of course, just saying it would give me something to write about.

So let's see. I guess I tuck my shirt in a lot these days, and as a result look dapper as fuck. Yes, mum. I'm using the F-word intentionally. In fact that's my new catchphrase.

If I made t-shirts with "dapper as fuck" on them, who would buy?

Heh.

Heck, even most of my groups have been awesome, so I don't have much to complain about. Someone suggested it might be simply because I'm a tall man which lends an air of authority to my person, and these children don't know me so I suppose that might be the case. Or maybe I'm just particularly skilled. Let's assume I'm just fortunate to get the good classes/teachers and hope it continues because I'm already awesome in other ways. There's no need to overdo it.

I have had one bad class. They were a private school that may or may not have told the kids they were the chosen on a regular basis. Apparently the school is awful every year. The teachers are less concerned with the quality of the tour as they are with getting to as many buildings as possible. Mine informed me and the class her record was 10 buildings and if they behaved we might be able to break it. It didn't help with discipline but I obliged as best I could, bypassing the interactive fun stuff like getting dressed up.

Nothing holds a child's attention more than being rushed through something their teacher has already told them is more about speed than learning!

What else...

This job is really the first time I'm interacting with the multiculturalism that Canada keeps yammering on about on a regular basis. The past week has been a bit more mixed, but up until now it has been no white kids in the classes, just a myriad browns. One of the other guides is a former principal in the TDSB and she has some really interesting insights on the Toronto board and certain areas of the city where the white folk go, trying to enclave and isolate themselves. Guess what people, we're on our way. Time to let go of the past and get used to it.

Another of the guides is currently an archaeologist for the Toronto Regional Conservation Authority (who run BCPV as well) so yesterday we chatted briefly archaeologically (she only completed her degree relatively recently and is 40+, so there's still time for a career change).Also yesterday my assigned school was misbooked, so I ended up in the office counting activity sheets for the Christmas season and chatting with another guide. She having recently graduated from a master's in museum studies at Leicester University in England.

Not only is the job decent, when you have 25+ other people around you're bound to find some interesting experiences to learn from.

Up until now the only complaint has been the commute distance. Starting work at 9 means leaving the house no later than 730 to catch all the buses and trains I need to get there. And if it's only a morning shift I work 3 hours and am hurtling south by 1215.

As per usual fortune has smiled upon me and another new guide lives mighty close and she owns a car. She's been driving me home after work when she's heading downtown (out to another job some nights) and the last two days has been kind enough to pick me up in the morning. Hello 8AM departure!

Too sweet.

It's all ticking over really purdy like.

Except for this one thing. This morning, after a restless night, the clock said

when I opened my eyes for the umpteenth time. There was a fraction of a second where I thought, Awake, and too early again. That was followed by, Stef's picking me up exactly NOW! (my clock's 4 minutes fast you see).

Oops.

But that's what bananas dipped in peanut butter are for right? And she was 2 minutes late herself so I even had my shoes tied by the time she arrived. I win!

bike ride (of a few weeks ago)

It's a lovely day out there. I don't have time to go riding today but I did a few weeks ago. There's a path that parallels the railway from Landsdowne to Cariboo Ave. Apparently it's going to be extended south, and maybe north when they're done driving all those pilings (see below).

There are lots of old factories along the route. Some have been turned into storage or offices.

I hope they leave some smoke stacks standing. They're great. There is quite a bit of graffiti. I didn't take too many pictures of it, but this one had some great colour. Look at that sky too! It was a funny day. Rain was expected but before the main force arrived periodic vanguards launched sharp, quick and cold drizzle attacks.
But then the sun would come out.

On the other side of the tracks some people were already ensconced in some nice looking apartments.
Some of the buildings had already been torn down and replaced by attempts at mimicry. It's a nice try but the bricks just aren't weathered enough. The GO Trains that run through the area are diesel powered but I don't think their exhaust is going to mark the new bricks like the smokier trains of the past.

Save old bricks!

There's actually a hullabaloo from the local residents concerned about air quality with an increase of diesel locomotives.
Vroom! Vroom!
I assume this land will become condos. Maybe office space I suppose given proximity to the rail line, but if you don't know what a construction site today in Toronto is destined for residential is usually the safer bet.

It was a good day for the sky and verticality in general.

The bike trail ends at Cariboo. Along the trail each road was marked with some nice sculpture, giant sheets of rusty metal with the stenciled names cut out.

Just north of Cariboo is a rail junction, I think the junction for which The Junction neighbourhood is named. Looking at a map there aren't many other rail junctions around and about, and according to this article The Junction centres on Keele and Dundas, just to the west, so I must be right.

On the left is a drill, on the right a pile driver. They are pounding pilings here to support the increased train traffic. Hurray for sleeper communities as long as they DO NOT add more cars to the streets.

Vertical!
Do you see that puff? That pops out on every clang. It didn't take me very long to catch it because the thing must clang every 7 seconds or so. Clang! Clang! I can understand why the neighbours are complaining and not enjoying their aural lives right now.

I've driven some t-bars in my time, and that's nothing compared to this ruckus. Maybe if I had steam driven, piston arms. Hmm. Maybe. Something to think about...

This is one of the GO stations, Bloor, further south on the path. I like the overgrown look of the rail bridge and my orange bridge is pretty sharp too.
Just another rail line. This one splits off from the one I was following at Landsdowne and travels more directly north. It ends up at Downsview airport, and probably beyond. Well meshed infrastructure gives me a warm feeling inside.

It would have been a different place when the trains were running through the guts of the city on a regular basis. The Big Smoke indeed. This smaller line has road crossings, as opposed to bridges, so there would have been lots of waiting. Given that the advent of rail travel in the 19th century signaled the new faster modern life it's interesting that I now think of it in terms of slowing people down. It says something about how people are increasingly individualized nuclei, enabled, largely through technology, to live removed from the greater society that surrounds them.

Come on LRT! Be finished already. Force people to live face-to-face.

It's my first day

Yawn. Stretch it out. Deep breath.

Oh who am I kidding? Nothing terribly vicious today. A bit boring, but that's what first days are for; paperwork and long explanations read from sheets.

This first day started well, out the door before 830, then became sad when the Ossington bus went past. I was nervy about the 7 minute wait for the next one and just missed a train at the station, but I hopped straight onto the 35 at Jane Station and the driver turned out to be a madman. In the end I had a leisurely 15 minutes to stroll a 5 minute distance.

Loverly.

Formalities were dull but mercifully short, and the rest of the day was touring, talking and asking questions. I would have enjoyed it more but the weather went weirdly humid (shorts tomorrow) and my knee has decided to play silly monkey. I just need to remember to walk carefully for a few days and I should be back to normal. Or at least to the point where I can forget it was sore then injure it even more severely next time!

We were told they received 170 applications for this job, and there were only 7 new people hired (plus 1 who had worked there a few years ago). Numbers like that make me feel good, and judging by the talent around the table I'm in a pretty top notch group. I think 4 of us had master's degrees of some type, 2 were just out of teacher's college and everyone had some form of current or past museum interpretation or education experience, some of it really impressive. Yikes. Good thing I had an awesome interview.

A few of them knew each other from already running in Toronto museum circles. The practice seems to be get a number of part time jobs at different sites and earn a living that way. I don't think the museum and culture game here is a closed circuit, but I am very happy to have my foot in the door.

STATS!

Departure (home) 8:27

Arrival (Ossington and Dundas) 17:14 (delicious heritage cherry tomatoes in the farmers' market distracted my homeward momentum)

COMMENTARY!

I get on the Jane bus at the station or at the opposite far end. Either way I get a seat fairly quickly. Also, the morning journey had lots of empty stops, so we flew north.

We met an old Scottish fellow named Gordon. He told us about how things were when everything was wind, water, solar or gravity powered then demonstrated toys to prove his point. Well met!

I slept really well, as in I fell asleep quickly and awoke at the needed time. My neck was really sweaty (been happening a lot) and I was lying across my mattress with my feet on the floor, but I can accept that.

and then he rested

Sore throat. No fun.

The plan therefore is to bed early and with the magic of sleep remedy all my ills.

I'm not sure exactly when this whole mess began, but I think it was when I started working a few weeks back. Remember those three days? Since then it has been a non-stop, never quite catching up with myself adventure. I regret nothing!

But depleting sleep reserves is a dangerous business. Especially in the land of germs that is Toronto what with all its various handles and doorknobs. I've been riding the TTC a bit recently as well, and I'm not surprised that I started feeling a tingle shortly after that.

So the plan: gargle with salt water, create and consume a fruit smoothie (the kind you read about in the bible), then shower (not connected to throat but a nice experience nonetheless) and then sleep.

Oh boy, I'm tingling like a pirate just thinking about it.

Last night was the multi-party hosted by the ever charming triumvirate of Slippers, TOMson and Mysterio (let's see if this nickname sticks), and I had a grand time. I spent a lot of the celebration on the roof, observing comings and goings, meditating on the skyline and pondering the urban life I am creating for myself. Silence and isolation in a mass of humanity remains a novel experience.

As planned, on the stroke of one we spilled into the park, and despite numerous cruisers doing the verb the noun suggests (ie cruising past) the police knew a good natured gathering when they saw one and there was nary a problem.

My only regret from such nights is the tiredness they beget. I'm not a big drinker these days, but having a few and staying up late has inevitable results in the morning and for some reason sleeping in isn't one of them. Being tired is.

Regardless of exhaustion I went to my first level 200 improv class today and had a grand old time. The new crew seems great and I can't wait to see my progress this time around considering all the good things that the 100 level did for me.

Hurray hurray for the life I lead. This week I have a TIFF screening to attend (The Informant!) and a by-election to be trained for and then work. And hopefully - fingers crossed, knock on wood, burn incense and sacrifice a newt - I'll be receiving a call from the good folks at Black Creek to boot.

Woot!

The day that was

Last night I meant to be in bed on time. Honest I did. But an inadvertent adventure in the park later - featuring amongst other things; a Sinatra singalong, can-can dancing, and lady-tossing - I was getting to bed late.

Sleep or no I was on the TTC once again, heading north to Black Creek Pioneer Village for my interview. I say again because Brendan and I went up there Thursday on a research trip. I should really write a whole entry on that but I won't. Instead I'll say, very cool, and mention I was particularly impressed by the print shop, weaving looms and old time bakery (scones and cookies, yum yum), and a bit sad that the mill was closed for the day.

The interview was for an education assistant position and went exceedingly well. It lasted almost an hour, mostly because we were having a wonderful chat about this and that by the end of things. You know an interview is going well when one of the interviewers mentions his past life as an underwater archaeologist and you're able to talk about working with one of the more famous Canadians involved in that field.

John Oleson, still doing it right.

But that's beside the point.

I answered the questions well. Talked about how I would discipline the wee ones should the need arise, said my friends would describe me as 'communicative' (as in talkative but I also listen, heh), 'entertaining', and 'reliable', and basically was awesome and enthusiastic.

Right guys? Ol' entertaining, reliable James!

We even chatted a bit about where I saw myself headed. I mentioned I was considering a museum master's program and they suggested maybe taking some courses with the OMA (Ontario Museum Association). I'm going to assume they don't throw that suggestion at everyone.

If I had to pick a weak point for the interview it was when they asked me about my knowledge of 19th century Ontario history. I mentioned the 1837 rebellions, then mumbled on about nothing else for a few minutes before finally stopping myself.

So that was nice.

Of course I was a bit dressed up for the affair (shirt tucked in and all) so I decided to go for a brief strut once downtown. Always a satisfying experience.

I saw The Golden Girl on her way home from work, received compliments, ordered a Gandhi Cuisine butter chicken, came home, stripped to my underwear, watched the documentary Wordplay and stuffed my face.

Satisfaction!

(I met that Oleson fellow once, but he's pretty cool. Aside from archaeology he's also a SCUBA diver, boater and does aerobatic flying on the side...that's right kids, he's a BARNSTORMER!)