Writings, Reviews, Cultural Criticism
I celebrated Canada’s 155th birthday a week early. At the beginning of the year, I got my fill of people wrapped in Canadian flags and shouting at me about their freedoms. “God keep our land glorious and free” they sang, and I witnessed first hand just how close is the ground that marks out religious and…
Thanks to Covid-19, all major Pride events in Toronto (at least those requiring a city permit) have been cancelled. Like the rest of the world, Pride Toronto has gone virtual.
A funny thing happened. When I walked down Yonge the first time, all my photos were in black and white. But when I joined the parade and walked down a second time, all my photos were in colour. It was just like in the Wizard of Oz.
This year’s theme was Until We’re Safe, acknowledging, among other things, the murders committed by Bruce McArthur. It was disheartening to see a group of “Christian” freaks near the end of the parade standing on the north side of Dundas at Victoria Street.
In the age of Trump, the startling rise in Ontario of yet another populist leader, nationalism, political fear-mongering, scapegoating, press-bashing, and power grabs by craven oligarchs, it’s important periodically to remind ourselves what it means to live in a free society. It’s likewise important periodically to test the limits of that freedom to make sure those limits haven’t contracted around us while we were asleep.
I’ve decided to present all my images from Toronto’s Pride Parade(s) in black and white to mark the black and white terms that seem to have corseted the Pride/BLMTO conversation. I’m not sure representatives of either group speak for much beyond the right to make themselves the targets of corporate marketing in heavily sponsored parades.
Once, Pride was Protest. Pride was Social Action. Pride was a Play for Justice. The whole Loud and Proud and Out in the Streets thing was a strategy to draw our eyes from the centre to the margins. Now it’s a party. It’s a celebration. It was one thing. Now it’s something else.
Here’s a collection: 20 of my best shots from this year’s Toronto Pride week. Most are from the parade on Sunday afternoon. You can view more in a flickr album here.
I observe Toronto’s Pride Week the same way I observe Remembrance Day: with a great deal of skepticism. I want to remember. I want to remember how people struggled to carve out a space for themselves where they can live with a measure of dignity. I want to remember friends and family who succumbed to HIV/AIDS.
This is my “Hello World” post to kick off the blog part of davidbarker.photography [subsequently rolled into nouspique.com]. And what a way to kick it off! With a massive party. I staked my ground on the northwest corner of Church and Bloor right where all the participants are marshaled and I let it all flow…
In 1970, W.E. Mann edited a volume titled The Underside of Toronto (McClelland & Stewart), perhaps an early effort to dispel the Disneyfied image of Toronto the Good. In Part Four, titled “Deviant Behaviour and Deviant Groups”, he includes William Johnson’s “The Gay World”.
On Friday August 7, 2009, William Conklin and his partner of almost 33 years, David Hallman, learned that William—Bill—had pancreatic cancer. Within 16 days, Bill was dead. David wrote quickly of those 16 days, fearful perhaps that if he lost the memory of them, it would compound his sense of loss.
Today marks the 144th anniversary of Canada’s confederation, a time to celebrate national pride. I would describe myself as fiercely Canadian (the word fierce is cognate with the French word for proud), but I’m also fiercely ambivalent about being a Canadian.
A protester pretending to be police officer in riot gear ran into the intersection at Charles St. & Yonge. He was carrying a shield with the word “Polite” on it and wore a visor low over his face to mimic the visors the police wore last week while protecting Toronto’s fair citizens from the G20 Summit.