Mildly intoxicated and terribly excited to take part in one of the finer points of this year's Nuit Blanche schedule, this girl anxiously queued up to participate in Misha Glouberman's participatory noise choir - appropriately entitled "Terrible Noises, Beautiful People" part of Mercer Union's special programming for the evening.
After a brief introduction, Glouberman requested that the participants (the crowds ranged from 9 to 99 depending on the hour) face him in a loose circle around the large space he blocked off inside the 35 Lisgar (Mercer's empty neighbour). Poised with cue cards requesting various sounds from the participants (make an "ugly" sound was met with growls and barks, for example) the charismatic artist-turned-master-conductor allowed the audience to do whatever they felt necessary within the parameters of vocal noise.
Glouberman followed these exercises with instructions for us to start making sounds ourselves explaining that one person should start with any sound they chose, followed by another, which would in turn replace it. He cautioned that the new noises should be adopted gradually, with the group purposefully staggering the times at which they began making it. The room fell silent for a moment. People looked around at each other, hoping that somebody would start. I then broke into what I think was a "g". The entire room followed suit, clutching to my note before somebody on the other side of the room began to whistle. This continued for quite some time, one sound following the last, with the audience honestly intrigued by what was coming out of their mouths.
As with any project of an experimental nature, there are a million ways in which this could have gone awry. Glouberman relied heavily on the enthusiasm and competence of the audience. Shyness also weighed in as a negative factor, with some observers feeling content to stay in the back of the room to merely watch. Reportedly, other groups made louder sounds when the "ugly" card was shown, as though volume was decisively preferred over novelty.
In spite of the risks and unpredictable outcomes, the beautiful moments far outweighed the downfalls. "I'm learning as I go along, as well," Glouberman concedes, "There are just as many surprises for me as there are for the first timers... It's very exciting to see what people come up with."
And just as our own beauty may be understandably called into question, the noises we ended up conjuring at Glouberman's instruction weren't entirely terrible either. The results were both cringe-inducing and glorifying, hitting moments of beauty and sinking to levels of aural crassnesss. I don't mind admitting, however, that the process was an incredibly powerful experience. But you know, not in the way that a questionable televangelist uses the expression. Random sounds at 4 in the morning never sounded so good.**Image 1 courtesy of Mercer Union, 2 & 3 courtesy of Molly Crealock.**
Writing a summary of the the evening could be a bit of a bitch, so I've conceded to highlights only, in rough chronological order.1) Very grumpy friends setting it up in Trinity Bellwoods.2) A very friendly bartender doing his bartender thing.3) My friend Ron pretending to piss on the make-shift alley way in the Hart House where we got our drinks.4) It lit up. My camera really wasn't doin it for me, though.5) Fiona Smyth show at Spin.6) A building covered in fluffy pink things.7) Lots of booze consumed at street level.8) Alex and I... we're at 5am here in Lower Bay. Oh, so tired.9) Do sounds evoking ghosts get tired? No sir, they do not10) Treated finally (and surprisingly) to a 6 person tango as we sat on the big rock at Cumberland St.
Is it wrong to like Mika? I'd really like to know, because it certainly seems that way. The bio on his official site is a bunch of self-indulgent pap and the title of his debut causes me to unintentionally dwell on shitty children's programming. That song "Relax" is a cute little ditty, though, isn't it? I'm torn.
WTF? Is Selectum now hiring BFA broke-asses to work on their design team now? Funnier still, I found this covered in dust in a shitty convenience store on Queen W. And the plastic was already ripped on the top. Sweet deal. Seventy-nine cents gets you bubble text, a diamond punchout window AND a hand-drawn birthday cake. Fuck us silly if it ain't a quaint little find.
So seldom am I given the treat of genuine amusement, especially when it concerns the confusion of old ladies attempting to shop in a blacked out thrift store. Floral print bags in hand, they approach their quarry with apprehension, not quite sure what each object is until they're within two feet of the thing. Oh, it's a plate with frolicking kittens. Gorgeous.
The Queen West Art Crawl’s (QWAC) program Play/Grounds featured a hunt it the dark thanks to Jon Sasaki's black lights and taped up windows at the Salvation Army store at Queen and Jameson. The better part of the space was black enough for bewilderment, but just enough for your eyes to adjust so you could find your crocheted toaster covers. The shoppers were treated to browsing with individual flashlights for the majority of the day, with white items, inherently, being the easiest to find.
Sasaki’s past few shows have seen him delighting viewers with his distinct understanding of space and interaction. He also possesses enviable quality of being able to not only engage the viewer with very accessible pieces (both literally and conceptually) but to also accurately gauge public reaction, stepping beyond the role of artist into semiotician.
Black Light Thrift Store was shown for one day only, but Play/Grounds continues until tomorrow (Sunday the 16th). It also includes artist Katie Bethune-Leamen who takes you on a mushroom journey (to find, not to eat) in the neighbourhood of Parkdale. The whole beautiful thing is curated by Elaine Gaito and Chris Reynolds.
“There are people in the city who think trash is solely a municipal responsibility,” states Todd Irvine of the Toronto Public Space Committee (TPSC) and the Local Enhancement and Appreciation of Forests (LEAF) initiative. “Which in many ways should be the case, but if a person sees a problem with refuse, the initial reaction is to call Public Works instead of cleaning it up themselves.” That mentality, Irvine contends, most certainly extends to the care of trees in the city. LEAF’s recent collaboration with the TPSC by way of city tree tours seeks to educate about trees, both publicly and privately owned, and to promote their care by way of collective responsibility.
Unfortunately, the projected decline of the Toronto tree canopy, which is estimated to reduce from 21% to a mere 17% coverage of the urban landscape, is making their task increasingly urgent. LEAF, who has been in operation 10 years, has been planting 1,000 trees a year through their Community Programs. This directly contributes to water and air filtration, not to mention acres of lovely shade for future Torontonians. Additional programs include the much lauded tree tours led by Irvine and Liz Forsberg.
“What’s often a misconception about LEAF is that somehow we’re a City of Toronto affiliate,’ Irvine explains, “but we’ve never received any financial support from the city, in spite of the mass effort over the years to preserve and educate the populace about the trees here.”
LEAF did, however, recently receive a grant from the Ontario Trillium Foundation. This came as a slight surprise considering LEAF's current TPSC affiliation. “We weren’t certain what the provincial reaction was going to be...TPSC often advocates groups who are anti-corporate.” Irvine explained. However, the juries behind the Trillium Granting bodies are comprised of individuals from the Toronto community including local activists. “Which, in a way makes a lot more sense,” Irvine continues, “because this project is extremely concerned with issues that surround the health of trees in every Toronto community. We’re concerned with the entire equation.” Currently, the Toronto urban forest consists of 7 million trees, half of which are on private property. LEAF receives calls from home-owners on a daily basis concerned with trees in their neighborhoods and asking for help on how to deal with developments in their area.
“What people don’t often realize is that we aren’t a large organization,” Irvine adds, “and that we don’t have all of the resources that are necessary at our disposal to help callers with every problem.” These problems often include dying trees and older trees 
that are going to be cut down from city development projects. “In spite of our size, we try to leave everyone with an adequate answer or reference, if not a solution.”
When asked what other North American cities were doing to maintain their respective canopies, Irvine immediately had some surprisingly harsh numbers. “The local populace is often under the impression that Toronto is a very “green” city, but the truth is that there are other municipalities with much higher percentages than us.” The most drastic example being Washington DC, which boasts an impressive 40% tree canopy. Our sister city Ottawa also surpasses us, with about 27% tree coverage.
So, what have these other cities done differently? Specifically, Washington DC has been far more fortunate on the funding side of the equation. “That continues to be a huge problem for LEAF,’ Irvine concedes, “We have several excellent people on staff, but without constant and adequate funding, we can’t afford many services we hope to provide. This really is a full time job on everyone’s part.’
Irvine also cited a hefty donation from Betty Brown Casey, once photographs of the declining canopy in the entire District of Columbia were brought to their attention. Out of that, Casey Trees was born, and the organization still is still able to operate on that initial grant, which was a staggering 50 million dollar contribution.
Not that LEAF is expecting any donations like that in the near, or even distant future, but their goals remain unshaken. Always maintaining a good sense of humour about the situation, Irvine drew an interesting comparison: “Trees are a lot like puppies. Once you teach people how to take care of them, it’s easy to maintain that momentum. They’re very likeable things."
As likeable as they are, they aren't the only facet of the environment in need of attention. Irvine contends that there are a lot of worthy causes, but that trees are paramount to the health of any city. The Trillium Grant is an excellent start, but LEAF will require on-going support to continue their important work.
Glouberman followed these exercises with instructions for us to start making sounds ourselves explaining that one person should start with any sound they chose, followed by another, which would in turn replace it. He cautioned that the new noises should be adopted gradually, with the group purposefully staggering the times at which they began making it. The room fell silent for a moment. People looked around at each other, hoping that somebody would start. I then broke into what I think was a "g". 
And just as our own beauty may be understandably called into question, the noises we ended up conjuring at Glouberman's instruction weren't entirely terrible either. The results were both cringe-inducing and glorifying, hitting moments of beauty and sinking to levels of aural crassnesss. 
