I lived in New York this summer. It was the ultimate experience: viewing Television sludge through “Marquee Moon” in Central Park (they broke up eight seconds later), slow dancing to vintage soul in Bushwick, foreign films at the Film Forum, smoking cigarettes on the roof of the Chelsea Hotel, strutting down Avenue A augmented by too much Brooklyn Lager and Velvet Underground on The Library’s jukebox. Talking to friends back home and letting them couch-crash in Williamsburg, I became jaded and blithe, a real New York snob. Sure Wavelength showcases and brunch at the Beaver were fun, but were they New York Cool?
My first two months back in Toronto were spent awkwardly trying to re-assimilate back into my old life, pining for Manhattan like an old lover, pressing friends in Greenpoint for status updates— was the East Village seeing somebody else? Had the Upper West Side cut its hair? Did Hell’s Kitchen switch apartments after all? Baby, could we still be friends and why won’t you return my emails? After a long (and messy) period of cultural schizophrenia, I’m proud to say that I’ve been happily reunited with my Torontonian identity (for the record, I’m of the born-and-bred variety, re-assigned to the suburbs with indie cred — my grandpa is the King of Kensington), which stems from the little things that make our city wholly ours. A list of Hogtown highlights: the ambling sumptuous stretch of Dovercourt from Dundas to Queen, Steve Kado’s The Blankkett cover of “I’m On Fire,” Tankhouse Ale (it tastes like roses), esoteric art cinema at Innis Town Hall, the way our neighbourhoods split and commingle by smell: Kensington like powdered incense and salted fish, Chinatown like slightly rotten produce, Yorkville like cool clear glass (the air you breathe feels richer), the Annex like damp leaves and musty textbooks scuttling by the Green Room parking lot. I think all young artists spend too much time in this city wracked with status anxiety, petrified to introduce ourselves to the local heroes we’ve friend-requested on Facebook. Toronto has so much potential to become, as Richard Florida says on page 13, “an example for the world.” And we owe too much to ourselves to try and be something we’re not.
This edition of The Varsity is devoted to the T.Dot in all its multivalent glory. U of T profs take notice as we probe the great minds of David Gilmour and Atom Egoyan. Arts associate Naomi Skwarna and photo editor Dan Epstein do a great job of depicting the frenzied, fly-by-the-seat charm of Trampoline Hall—the most exciting cultural event in this city right now. And if a community’s strength is its individuals, then Toronto must be rock solid: the 25 people who grace this cover are some of the most accomplished, creative and nicest, we’ve had the pleasure of bragging about, the future of something big, bright and better in the wake of Torontopia’s demise.
New York: it was fun, but I’m already in a serious relationship with someone I love. While I’d like to say I’m coming home, it’s like I never left.
-Chandler Levack, Editor-in-chief
In the current issue of EYE, Jonny Dovercourt, guitarist for the now-defunct Republic of Safety and co-founder of the Wavelength music series, says, “Torontopia might be entering a hibernation phase.” Taken broadly, Torontopia is a celebratory reference to the success of the city’s cultural renaissance, which occurred around the beginning of this century. Since being coined in-or-around 2003 (apparently during a game of foto-tag) the very question of what the term “Torontopia” means has been the subject of much debate. How can Torontopia be over? Is our social scene somehow broken? Is good Torontonian art in jeopardy? Are we going to have to relive the late ‘90s cultural sinkhole?
The term seems to refer to two different things: Torontopia is/was a collection of artists and bands which formed a “scene” in the early 2000s, but it is also used to refer to its own cultural ethos.
To refer to the Torontopia scene is to beckon a collection of indie-bands including Final Fantasy, The Hidden Cameras, Sick Lipstick, people like Steve Kado, and Dovercourt himself, record labels like Blocks Recording Club, Paper Bag, and Three Gut, and even events like Expensive Shit, Track and Field, and Wavelength. This community of people, bands, labels, and events formed a group, which for better or for worse, is Torontopia. Splashed across posters promoting live gigs, dance parties and art openings—if Torontopia was advertised, you could assume its members were behind the project.
But Torontopia’s ideology has also expanded in meaning, cultivating a love of the artistic possibilities that city living creates, a drive to explore and re-purpose urban space, a goal of constant self improvement propelled by honest criticism, the production of art that’s accessible to all, experimentation, wild celebration, and a sky’s-the-limit, make-it-happen-yourself independent attitude. Torontopia was a blanket term for a new way of engaging in independent art.
When Dovercourt suggests that Torontopia may be headed for hibernation, it could be misconstrued, suggesting that local artists have abandoned this cultural project. I believe that he is referring to the scene fragmenting—our city is not about to enter a dark age of art.
The dissolution of Republic of Safety shows that after four years, many of the bands and artists which founded Torontopia have either graduated to larger circuits (Broken Social Scene, Kids on TV, Laura Barrett), or have closed up shop and moved on (Three Gut Records, Sick Lipstick, Vazaleen). Some still carry the torch, but what Dovercourt is getting at is that maybe the salad days of the scene are over. Fair enough.
But this shouldn’t be taken to mean that Torontopian beliefs have to be forgotten. Quite the opposite. The ethos of the Torontopia scene is massively infl uential in guiding and inspiring a new set of emerging musicians, artist and promoters. Just look at our Top 25 list, proof positive that Toronto is chalk full of smart, talented, hard-working artists, many of whom incorporate and expound Torontopain ethics. Keeping with this spirit, look at our Top 25 list not only as a celebration of talented individuals, but as evidence that anyone, from any walk of life can make cool culture happen in T.O. It just takes some doing. So, once you’ve read our All Arts issue, why not make some art yourself? Pick up a guitar, write a play, paint a canvas, in the words of Republic of Safety, “don’t wait for vacations.” Do it now, start today.
-JORDAN BIMM, ARTS EDITOR
