My Fairly Odd Summer

Hi! Well, it's Christmas Eve already! All greetings and such later, but...

In my last post (gee, way back in October!), I mentioned that I had a pretty unusual summer; the main reason is that I spent a lot of it off work. This is why:

In late June and early July, I began to experience bad coughing fits; they were always "productive," as they say, but constantly interrupted my work, my evenings, and eventually, my nights. So, after a few days with not enough sleep, I finally set up an appointment with my doctor.
Sure enough, it was a lung infection, and the doctor prescribed an antibiotic, which I was supposed to take for the next four or five days, along with a cough syrup. "Don't want it to turn into pneumonia," said the doc with a chuckle. I didn't chuckle along - it would bring on a coughing fit, for one thing.

I also see a respirologist for my asthma, and happened to have an appointment around that time. I take the inhaler Symbicort for the asthma (it's not terribly serious), but after looking me over, the doctor said I should increase my dosage fourfold.

But the fun wasn't over yet.
I next developed laryngitis, and could only speak hoarsely, and for a limited amount of time, before my throat got so sore that I had to stop. You may know that I talk for a living, so despite various attempts to go back to work, I could only work sometimes for half an hour before it got too difficult. So there went steady work.

It was pretty frustrating, because otherwise, there was nothing wrong. I was perfectly healthy, and could get out and about as I wished. I just couldn't do my job. To make ends meet, as with my experience with shingles in the past (https://aproposno.blogspot.ca/2015/12/my-fortnight-with-shingles.html), I had to draw on my savings (I've often thought, out of all the decisions I've made in my life, setting aside a fixed amount each month - whatever the circumstances may be - was one of the smart ones).


Well, as with most things, I try to find an upside to a circumstance, and this was no exception.
It occurred to me that, since I was perfectly mobile, and the weather was mostly nice, it would give me a great opportunity to get out and explore "previously uncharted territory" around this city. This certainly had the desired effect of cheering me up, as good long walks always do.

One area I was always curious about was the trail that I knew ran along the Humber River. I had passed this trilingual plaque on the bridge near Old Mill subway station many times, and here was my opportunity to find out where the trail went.

The plaque features thee languages. English and French as you'd expect, but despite an extensive online search, I could find no indication what the native language is!

There's a long stairway down to the floor of the valley, and I struck off south. The trail kind of twists and turns at first, and I wasn't sure I was heading south the whole time, but it turned out to be right.

There's a paved trail for most of the first part, but there are also several footpaths running parallel to it. As I walked along one of them, it occurred to me this may well have been the view of the river an indigenous person would have taken in many thousands of years ago:

As I mentioned, the trail is a little tricky to follow, actually going through an urban park, and a neighbourhood of houses and low-rise apartment buildings, before descending back into a paved path with tall trees and natural growth on both sides.

Yes, this quiet bucolic scene is right in the middle of Toronto's west end.

One thing that took me by surprise was this well-known sight, formally the South Humber Pavilion, better known as "The Oculus." I had heard several things about it in local news reports, and never knew just where it was. Now I know!

It was built as a public pavilion in 1959, with kind of a "UFO" design, and included public washrooms, which you can see as the stone structure in behind:

Here's why it's called "The Oculus," or eye.
They've painted over some graffiti that was on there a few years ago, but that's really the only sign of maintenance. Otherwise, it looks sadly neglected overall.

The original design had a sculpture in the centre, with a base, and three rising bird figures, which at the right time of day, would be lit by sunlight coming through the opening, but that apparently was stolen some time ago.
There are ongoing efforts to restore the site, including reinforcing the metal posts, and demolishing the washroom building entirely, but conservation types would like to leave the stone building alone, and restore the whole site to its former glory. After just this short visit, I must say I'm inclined to agree with the conservationists; this place is far too charming to leave in its present state.

Moving on, I walked for some time more directly south, finally approaching the mouth of the Humber, where the QEW crosses over it.

Equivocal as I am about massive amounts of car traffic, I am always impressed by the engineering feats it takes to accommodate it. This is really a massive structure of concrete and steel under the QEW that many people don't see or appreciate (until it needs repair, that is).

Further along this path, I was struck by these incredible pieces of art on the concrete pillars. As you can see, they're quite beautiful, even moving, and not only did I wonder how on earth they were done, but who thought of such an incongruous place to put them!

I've taken pictures of this beautiful bridge over the mouth of the Humber before, but it's always worth a look from another angle:

From south of the bridge, here's the great view of the Toronto skyline:

And finally, at the mouth of the Humber River, as it empties into Lake Ontario, is another plaque commemorating the history of all the people who have lived on and around it:

I kept walking that afternoon, heading east, as far as King and Roncesvalles, to catch the streetcar back home. That was nearly the longest part of the whole walk, and it really brought home - as only walking can do - the sheer size of this city.


I was to take several more walks throughout the summer - including one along the same trail, from Dundas St. W. down to Old Mill station - but this was the one I got good pictures for.

Eventually, my voice returned, but it was into September before I could return to work full-time again (and thankfully, was j-u-u-ust strong enough to participate with the TWMVC in our very well-received performance at the North American Welsh Festival in Rochester, NY on Labour Day weekend - would have hated to miss that!) And I'm back to my regular once-daily dose of Symbicort.



Anyway, that was my summer.
As I look out my window now, I see snow, and temperatures that are only going to get lower, and I'm glad I was able to post this reminder of a rather pleasant, if definitely unusual, summer.


So, I hope everyone has a great Christmas, and a happy and prosperous new year in 2018. See you soon, I hope!

Nuit Blanche 2017

Hey! I see it's been a while since I posted anything. I had an odd summer, let's say, and perhaps I'll chat about it another time.


For now, I wanted to let you know how my Nuit Blanche experience was this year. So, here we go:

At Nathan Phillips Square, the theme was "The Century of Revolutions," covering movements worldwide, from the Russian Revolution in 1917, up to recent times. The displays were in a series of shipping containers.
Before dark, I got this pic of the whole setup, from the southwest corner of NPS:

After dark, here's what it looked like, from the opposite direction:

Background left is a hot air balloon that took passengers up about 50-60 feet in the air.
It wasn't related to NB - it was a publicity thing for an alcoholic beverage.

There were many slogans like this painted on the sides of the shipping containers throughout the installation.
It covered many of the revolutions over the years (Cuba, China, the Arab Spring, etc), but also included newer or ongoing subjects, like racism and poverty.

This was an interesting booth, where people could choose a slogan, get it printed via a silkscreening process, and have it posted on the wall there.

I met with a friend this year, who had suggested we visit the installations at the Aga Khan Museum in Don Mills. I had never been there, and thought it was a good idea.
There were periodic shuttle buses to the museum from near the Gardiner Museum at the top of Queen's Park, so we quickly took in a few of the exhibits near Dundas St. West.

As part of a larger exhibit entitled Calculating Upon the Unforeseen, there were several installations, including this one, called Embassy.
It was essentially "a building under construction," with scaffolding inside, and people were encouraged to enter and climb around different levels:

Also part of this exhibit was this video installation, 1967: A People Kind of Place, sort of in tribute to Canada's sesquicentennial, of a project from our centennial year, 1967. It was kind of a satirical comment on Canada's immigration policy, where they built a mock landing pad in one of the western provinces for actual "aliens" to land.
Here's a bit of it:

And another piece of the exhibit was this more abstract video installation, entitled The Future is a Distorted Landscape, projected on the wall of a building near Dundas and Centre Streets:

Then, it was a scramble through Queen's Park (sadly, missing several installations there) to catch the shuttle bus just in the nick of time, and up to this amazing Modernist building, the Aga Khan Museum:

I'll take a minute to describe this remarkable place: It is a large plaza, with rows of evergreen trees everywhere, and several large, shallow reflecting pools. The two main buildings are the museum itself, and the Ismaili Centre. I was immediately taken with it, and would encourage anyone to visit, if only to wander the grounds!

The highlight of the visit, and indeed of the whole night, was this breathtaking video installation by Shahzia Sikander, entitled Disruption As Rapture. It was inspired by a manuscript from the 1700's, the Gulshan-i 'Ishq, and the installation seems to be a continually-morphing animation of some of the illustrations.
Here are a couple of videos I took of the piece. I found the piece profoundly moving, and I'm afraid these may not do it justice, but I hope some of its beauty comes across.
In the first video, I tried to shoot the piece, and its twin, in one of the reflecting pools, but it wasn't until I zoomed in that I could get the full effect. I'm leaving the entire thing intact, though, so you can see that reflecting pool, and perhaps make out the tiny coloured lights within it:

(That's the roof of the Ismaili Centre in the background)


This second video is focused more on the screen.
From the distance I was away, the camera picked up more of the crowd noise than the beautiful music that accompanied this piece, but I think some of it comes across anyway.

I couldn't leave the piece without taking more pictures of it. It lasted about 10 minutes, and ran on a continuous loop, so I could stick around until it restarted, and try to capture more.

There is a flight through the sky, possibly on some sort of "magic carpet":

A wedding ceremony, joining these two characters together in an ornate palace:

A multi-headed monster threatens them, but is beheaded by the hero (seen here at left, beginning to fade out as the picture changes):

Then, everything slowly changes, dissolving into a shimmering field of stars.

I was amazed and delighted by this installation, and know these videos and pictures don't do it justice, but hopefully, some of its awesomeness was captured for you.


During the night, we were allowed to see the exhibits in the museum itself, for a small donation. The museum is modest by, say, ROM standards, but still had many amazing pieces on display, including metalware, china, illuminated manuscripts (that were comparable to many European ones of the same period that I've seen), and much more. There was also an entire room of huge, hand-woven tapestries from different centuries, which took my breath away.

We were allowed to take pictures in the main gallery (sans flash), and I thought this ornate carved door-piece was very striking:

I also liked this helmet and shield, also very ornately decorated.
It occurs to me that this set must have been ceremonial; it would certainly be a shame for something so gorgeous to be used in actual combat!

And, to top off this wonderful night (and place) the crowd was invited to the Ismaili Centre to witness a full Sufi ceremony.

Quite a crowd, as you can see by the lineup!

The ceremony was about an hour long, and consisted of practitioners chanting, hymn-singing and swaying in rhythm, while sitting cross-legged in a large circle.
The climax of the ceremony featured actual "whirling dervishes," both male and female, who spun around and around (as the spirit moved them) within the circle, with right hands pointing to the sky and left hands to the earth.
I left with a real appreciation for the devotion and discipline of the followers of this branch of Islam.



I've said this quite a few times in this blog, but I'm truly grateful to live in a city like Toronto, where we all have the opportunity to witness and learn about so many people and cultures from all over this blue marble in space. Events like this give us the opportunity to experience the world as seen through the eyes of contemporary artists, as well, this year for instance, of witnessing something that is traditional and deeply devotional.
We should all take the opportunity to connect like this every day.

Waterfront Festival 2017

This year, the Waterfront Festival was held on the Canada Day long weekend. I was able to get out to it on Monday, July 3.

This year was a rather more modest affair than I've seen in the past. The weather, particularly on Monday, was ideal, and there were lots of vendors out, both at Sherbourne Common and HTO Park. But there were really only two major attractions this year, which I'll share with you in this posting.


HMCS Toronto

The Toronto is a 1990s-era patrol frigate that is normally based in Halifax.

I've always wanted to see what one of these types of ships looked like, and fortunately, I was at Sherbourne Commons just after 10 am, before the crowds got very large (I remember feeling a little sore during last year's Festival that the lineups were way too long to board the ships they had on display then).

First, here's a view of the bow of the Toronto, with her enormous anchor quite prominent:

Then another view along the port side:

And, also from dock level, a shot of the funnel, with the crow's nest, rigging and various antennae.

Visitors are first guided to the front of the ship, which features this rather imposing 57 mm Bofors gun. It is used for anti-missile or anti-aircraft purposes, but can also fire on surface vessels.

Here, a crew member explains the gun's controls. I didn't get too many details, but the gist was that the gun's operation is largely automated.

Here's a view from the bow, looking east, of Toronto's harbour.
There is a small rescue boat at left, and the shipping channels in the distance.

Next was the rear of the ship, most of which seems to be taken up by this large helipad. The ship commonly uses a Sea King helicopter on her missions.

And then, the stern.
There are twin machine guns here, at middle right and left of the picture.
The anchored mechanism in foreground may be part of the "bear-trap" system for landing and launching the helicopter.

A closer look at one of the rear machine guns. There appear to be lots of ways to swivel and position it.

Here's a detail of the handle of the gun. I looked around it for some time, but couldn't see a way to hold on to it!
Perhaps the various swivels and wheels put it into a position, and then you fire it from the handle at centre? Your guess is as good (or maybe better) than mine.

But I do believe it's a 50-caliber machine gun...

At deck level, roughly amidships (this is as low as visitors were allowed to go) is the area where the ship's surface-to-surface missiles are fired from.
This series of brackets holds the missiles themselves ready for use - they're empty here, of course.

Here, a crewman explains the operation of the missile launcher. The control panel is just right of centre. The missiles here can be fired at submarines or surface vessels.

From the port side of the ship itself, another view of the funnel, crow's nest and antennae:

These machine guns are mounted on both port and starboard sides of the ship. They look a little more straightforward to operate, and are even equipped with a shield!

Next, we were invited onto the bridge. Another crew member was explaining the operation of the ship from the bridge.
Once again, I didn't get any details, but as you can see, much of it is probably automated and computerized these days.

From just one of the bridge windows, you get quite a clear view of the bow and the landscape (or seascape, as the case may be) ahead:

This is actually where the ship is steered from: a computer console, complete with trackball, and a steering wheel about the size of a race car's.

The little girl was having a great time, playing at steering the ship!

From the bridge, we went on to the starboard side of the ship, and here's another view of the funnel from there.

Visitors moved (gingerly) along these narrow walkways and steps, down to the starboard deck.
We got a good view of the RHIB (Rigid Hull Inflatable Boat)s there, seen at lower left of pic:

Very impressive were these missile launchers on the port side: the missiles are launched from these tubes, with the exhaust coming out of the openings on either side. The exhaust tube lids are down on this side, though one was open on the other side.

They use Sea Sparrow surface-to-air missiles.

And, once again on dry land, a view of the stern of the Toronto from the dock.
You can see both machine guns that I showed earlier, as well as the Canadian Navy Ensign fluttering in the wind.

The Toronto is on active duty, and, in 2013, was apparently involved in a high-seas drug bust in the Persian Gulf!

It was fascinating to see one of these vessels up close, though it would have been a blast to see the engine room and living quarters, though I assume, as an active ship, things below decks need to be kept running 24/7, and visitors poking around may not have been helpful.


Before the next attraction, as a kind of reminder of the spring and summer of 2017, there has been an unusual amount of rainfall since April. As of this date, it is still higher than normal, with only one or two days a week (if that) of dry weather.
The Toronto Islands are essentially flooded, and have been effectively off-limits to all but residents, and may be for the rest of the summer.

At HTO Park, I got a couple of shots of normally-dry areas along the lake shore that were roped off for safety reasons. Bear in mind that this was the first weekend of July, and water levels should be nowhere near this:

Even though it's not really threatening, it's still pretty disturbing.


Well, on to the next feature: This was a controversial choice for this weekend, but I found it so charming (as did all the children who saw it), that I didn't mind.

It was the giant rubber duck.

You may know that a Dutch artist, Florentijn Hofman, created an enormous rubber duck that, in different configurations and sizes, has been an attraction in various places around the world since about 2007.
This version was created by a promoter, and is actually higher than any of Hofman's creations, at over six storeys.
One of the controversies was over the cost, and there are conflicting estimates of that, from $71,000 US, to between $120,000 and $200,000 Canadian!

So, here are a few shots, so you can see for yourself:

You can see Lake Ontario washing over the edge here, too.

It is enormous! Look at the boat at left in comparison.

Hofman's intent with the original piece was to bring happiness to people, and it certainly had that effect on those that I saw looking at it and photographing it.
Children especially found it quite a treat: I passed by a child in his father's arms approaching the piece, pointing and exclaiming, "Da big rub-ber duck-ie!"

The right-wing press had a field day, of course, a typical knee-jerk reaction to any government spending - not taking into account that the cost covers the entire tour this piece is taking to other cities in the province over the coming weeks.
They're welcome to complain - it is a free country - but I doubt (m)any of them made an effort to see the joy and excitement on those children's faces.
And we'll leave it at that.


And that was this year's Waterfront Festival.
There are lots of things happening around town, the province and the country in this Canadian Sesquicentennial year. Here's hoping we get better weather for the rest of the summer, so we're all able to celebrate in our own way.