I haven’t been getting out for photo walks as much as I used to for the obvious reason that I’ve been doing a lot of self-isolating. To date, I haven’t caught the Covid-19 bug and I’d like to keep it that way. While I’m not risk averse—if I wear a mask, social distance, wash my hands, I’ll be fine—but I have more than myself to consider including older parents and a wife who is immunocompromised.
Oddly enough, successful street photography is a bit like catching a virus. I say this because, as with catching a virus, street photography requires a lot of exposure. Not camera sensor exposure, but exposure to people interacting in public places. The more time I spend in public places, hanging out on street corners, lurking in doorways, watching people rush by, the more likely I am to capture interactions that convey honest emotion or tell interesting stories. It’s almost a statistical game. I should get an epidemiologist to track number of decent photos over time spent on the street. I’m sure a scientist could derive a mathematical constant, say, 1.2 good photos per hour. Because my time spent on the street is reduced, so is the number of good photos I produce.
Lately, I’ve only been going out when my wife needs to go to her office—typically once a week. She needs to lug a heavy laptop back and forth, so I carry it for her and after I leave her at the office, I go on from there. The last time I did this was on Tuesday. Drawing on notes from my journal, here’s what I saw that morning:
After we parted company outside the TD Tower, I continued on to Front and Bay. Under normal circumstances, I would catch commuters swarming up from Union Station, from the Go and subway trains, hurrying to work in the financial district. But this morning it was quiet, as it has been for almost all of this year. A handful of people crossing Front, but not enough to give me the cover I need. I continued west along Front past the Loose Moose with its “temporarily closed” sign on the door. My nephew is supposed to be bartending there but has gone back home to live with his parents for the time being. I really feel for young people in the pandemic. I can imagine how, 60 years from now, today’s 20-somethings will be in their retirement homes yelling at their grandchildren: You think you have it rough; when I was your age I had to live with my parents! Stupid Covid-19!
On the northwest corner of Front and Simcoe what used to be a big parking lot is now a big construction site: more office space for all the people who work from home. The last time I walked up Simcoe, it was a rainy morning 3 weeks ago. I remember shooting an orange bicycle across the road from the construction site. The handlebars and seat were missing and the front wheel was warped as if somebody had stomped on it. The orange bicycle is still there, still missing the handlebars and seat. If anything, the front wheel is more warped than before. Only this time somebody has turned the bicycle to face the other way. It’s a mess and on a long slow decline to the two-wheeled equivalent of senescence.
I remember that when I shot it before I had used the 5DS with a 100mm lens. I took off my pack and laid it on the ground and swapped the 50mm Sigma for the 100mm Canon, rushing to finish because somebody was approaching, yelling at imaginary people, and I didn’t want to have a body with its sensor exposed when he passed. You never can tell what will happen when somebody is yelling at imaginary people. He passed without incident and I took a number of shots of the destroyed bicycle. I was mostly interested in shots of the bicycle with people moving through the frame, people on bicycles, people walking north, people walking south. I think my favourite is a man passing the ex-bicycle pushing an empty baby stroller. What the hell’s going on here? The minute an image evokes that sort of response, then I know I have an image worth sharing.
At Simcoe and King, I had expected to find a steam vent on the southeast corner producing an atmospheric effect. There had been one at Victoria and Richmond, so I saw no reason why this intersection should be any different. I was disappointed. Continuing west along King, I stumbled by chance upon Alex Trebek’s star in the Walk of Fame. People had created a little shrine nearby. As with the bicycle on Simcoe, I pointed my camera at the shrine and let people pass through the frame. I prefer the one I shot with a dog walking over Alex Trebek’s star. What the image can’t convey is the homeless guy sleeping on the pavement behind me. In this situation, it was impossible for me to get a shot (ethically) that included both the shrine and the homeless guy. Nevertheless, I think it’s important to acknowledge the circumstances—a homeless guy sleeping by Alex Trebek’s star—and to inquire whether it means anything.
The other thing the image can’t convey is a longitudinal sense of the shrine’s location through time. For me, that shrine rests on a special patch of ground. When I was five years old, I witnessed something that happened where that shrine now stands. I describe that encounter at the conclusion of a post I wrote 14 years ago. It was a formative moment for me. If we walk long enough through a place, we begin to see it in four dimensions.
From there, I walked west to Peter Street and north to Queen. By the Rex Hotel, a coring and concrete outfit was sawing through the asphalt on St. Patrick Street. A worker made me stop and wait at the corner while the guy pushing the saw turned it around and positioned it to head back up the street. Essentially, the saw is a big circular blade sticking out of a big metal box. On the friendly side of the box, there is a single handle that the operator grips to guide the saw. When the operator turned the saw around, I noticed that he had a special way to “grip” the handle. He was riding it. Honest to god it was jammed up his butt crack. How could I not shoot this? It was another one of those What the hell’s going on here? shots.
I continued meandering along Queen and noticed that the Christmas windows are up in The Hudson’s Bay. There are barriers in front of the windows with signs saying, Thank you For Practicing Social Distancing and images of two nutcracker soldiers to illustrate the correct distance. Another sign says, Be Safe. Wear A Mask. I understand the need for signs. Signs of the times. But why the barriers? It’s not as if the windows need protection from Covid-19. All the barriers do is make it hard for children to see the windows. Ah, questions. So many questions. Always, my photo walks raise more questions than they answer.
