On October 20, a book launch for Access All Areas: A User’s Guide to the Art of Urban Exploration took place at the Distillery District’s Gibson Jessop Gallery. Written by Ninjalicious (a.k.a. Jeff Chapman) shortly before his death from cancer last August at the age of 31, the book has come to represent the well-known local urban chronicler’s legacy.
When Chapman passed away, a message posted on his website said that he “can essentially be credited with founding much of the modern-day urban exploration subculture.” Urban explorers tour hidden parts of their cities-including abandoned or even inhabited buildings, storm drains, and utility tunnels-often places where they aren’t allowed to be. Chapman supported urban exploration with Infiltration, a zine he started in 1996. Access All Areas is his how-to guide, an introduction to the pastime.
Chapman’s wife Liz Clayton spoke about her husband, his book, and his passion at the launch.
“He would have loved to explore this building,” she said. “I’d like to think he did, before it opened.”
Articles on the Infiltration site in fact do describe Chapman’s explorations in the Distillery District before it was restored to its current gentrified state. But as interesting as the Infiltration zine is, Access All Areas takes the concept further.
For explorers (or would-be explorers), the book is packed with information on equipment, research, and safety. (One unusual tip: smear ketchup on the top of your flashlight to maintain night vision.) But for those of us too wimpy to imagine walking past a “Do Not Enter” sign, the book is a chance to daydream, and to think differently about cities.
Chapman writes frequently and seriously about ethics, particularly the importance of “not breaking anything, taking anything, defacing anything, or even littering while exploring.” He outlines safety concerns in different environments, from asbestos exposure to flooded drains.
But there is also a healthy dose of dry humour, and a well-developed sense of joy.
Chapman writes, “There are so many locked doors in this world that it would be a real shame to let an openable one go to waste,” and he’s not just using a corny metaphor, but talking about actual doors.
There is at least one typesetting error in the book, where a sentence is cut off. And in another sense, we are sometimes left looking for more. Though many situations are described, Chapman rarely mentions which are from experience and which are hypothetical. Despite the handful of sections that detail specific adventures (including the abandoned Crystal Ballroom at the King Edward Hotel and a secret viewing gallery under the York University pool) we are left wondering whether, for instance, Chapman’s warning about the endurance required to climb smokestacks has a longer, more personal story behind it.
But perhaps that is for the best. Back issues of Infiltration are still available, both online (infiltration.org) and at zine fairs like last weekend’s Canzine. They are full of specific explorations, including a full issue on U of T’s hidden nooks and crannies, and are all worth reading.
In the last paragraph of his book, Chapman writes about the way “people get excited about the idea of really seeing the world around them.” By the time you’ve read that far, you’ll know exactly what he’s talking about.
