Lost Toronto: The Top Ten Things I Miss the Most, Part 1

Once a palace, now a Barn. The façade is all that's left of the former University Theatre on Bloor. (Photo by Simon P.)

In 1984, I finally made the move to the Big Smoke. I'd known I'd be living here for as long as I can remember. My family used to come to the city from the 'burbs only for the CNE, special occasions, and birthday events, so it was always a thrill. Every form of entertainment seemed available here; all seemed possible. On one trip to the CNE, I remember getting so worked up on the way that I had to clamp my hands over my mouth for the entire length of the Don Valley Parkway to keep from barfing in the car. As soon as we'd parked just outside the Princes' Gates and dismounted, I belched once and was fine.

Anyway, since moving here, I've watched some of my favourite parts of the city and my life here disappear, so this is a tribute to each of them and to the many pleasures they once provided. In some cases, I was present for the last hurrah of these Toronto cultural icons, for which I am now supremely grateful. So here's the first half of my top ten list of post-9/84 T.O. favourites:

1) The University Theatre. One of the late lamented downtown single-screen cinemas, this giant on Bloor near Avenue Road disappeared in 1986, and is now nothing more than another retail façade. Favourite University memory: seeing Aliens with my friend Niki and practically crawling under my seat in terror.

Opening day at the University, 1948. Photo: www.archives.gov.on.ca/english/on-line-exhibits/theatres/big/university_ext.aspx

2) The Ontario Place Forum. Was it just the all-inclusive, feel-good, come-one-come-all hippie attitude of the place that made the Forum such an excellent place to see a summer concert, or was it the fabulous views of the city from the top of the faux hills? Either way, the Molson Amphitheatre is for many of us a cold and soulless substitute. Apparently some performers weren't fans of this venue (I remember Steve Wright cursing a single-engine plane buzzing overhead for ruining a punchline), but there was nowhere better (with the possible exception of the Dream in High Park) for gourmet picnicking while listening to great performances. Favourite Forum memory: Attending the very last Forum event, a Toronto Symphony concert at the end of the summer of '94, and staying behind in the early evening sun, taking pictures and saying goodbye to the beautiful green bowl with the spinning stage.

3) The Uptown Theatre. This one lasted till just a few years ago (2003), but came to not just a sad, but a tragic end, when a botched demolition led to the collapse of an adjacent building, killing a student. Favourite Uptown memory: Seeing a final TIFF screening just before the theatre closed for good and getting a backstage tour (that is, a tour of the Uptown's shuttered "annex," the Backstage 1 & 2 on Balmuto St.) from one of the long-time ushers.

4) Exhibition Stadium. O.K., so when the weather gods were agin ya', it could be nasty perched in an upper row facing the onshore winds, but when the same gods smiled, there was nowhere better, in my opinion, to see a stadium show. Razed in 1999. Favourite stadium memory: There are at least two: The first was seeing Pink Floyd's Division Bell tour in '94 on a balmy summer's evening, with the aromatic clouds of smoke that drifted up over the bleachers providing a communal high as Floyd's recorded birds chirruped; the second was the experience of being part of a near-delirious crowd attending the Bruce Springsteen concert in July '84. We had seats on the field, but only nominally; everyone was not just standing on their chairs, they were standing on the backs of their chairs, and even then, all we could see was a little pink dot (Bruce's shirt) on the distant stage. We didn't care; it was the hottest ticket in town, and he was great. Even better: we won the tickets on the radio!

Photo by Jonathan Goldsbie.

5) The Festival Theatre chain. Luckily, though the organization that was the Festival theatres is gone, several of the individual venues continue to function as neighbourhood repertory movie houses. The former members of the chain—the Revue, the Kingsway, the Fox, the Royal, and the Paradise—provided cheap and nostalgic venues to catch second-run movies, as well as a chance for a bit of architectural time-travel. And the monthly Festival newspaper was fantastic. The Revue, Kingsway, Royal, and Fox (which never closed despite the failure of the chain), have all risen from the ashes in various new forms, but they'll never again be siblings. Favourite Festival memory: Attending the round of final screenings and scoring some one-sheet movie posters as a parting gift. Oh, and all those nights when I ventured out to a movie solo but never felt alone.

Demolition by Decay: The Tale of the Edgewater Sign

Postcard image of the Queen and Roncesvalles corner, taken in the 70s.

I thought I knew what I was going to write about as my second blog post, but I guess sometimes our subjects find us instead of the other way around...

Two Sundays ago, I noticed a hole in the sky. I was crossing Queen at Roncesvalles and glanced up to see—nothing. Nothing where there should have been something. And for me and many Parkdalians, that something was a beloved fixture in our visual landscape—the Edgewater Hotel sign. A battered but characterful old vintage 50s neon beauty, the sign whispered of boozy nights at the lobby bar and legions of travelling salesmen schlepping their sample cases over from the Sunnyside bus terminal next door. Only a few short months ago, writer Rick McGinnis traced the history of the corner, its buildings—now a McDonald's and a Howard Johnson's—and their wonderful signs in a BlogTO article.

So I felt sick, and sad, and ruminated on the situation for a few days, and then I got mad. Mad enough to work up the nerve to contact a local insider about the situation and to ask his advice on how to proceed. I wanted to know why the sign had been taken down, and by whom (my faint hope was that it was to repair and restore it). He told me what he knew and suggested I put the word out and then start making a stink to the city.

I contacted a wide range of media types, alerting them to the situation. I also contacted my Ward 14 city councillor, Gord Perks (councillor_perks@toronto.ca), and attended the Parkdale Residents' Association meeting last Thursday, at which I asked Gord directly about the status of the sign. The news was not good. He told the sorry tale of "the previous administration" doing a deal with the owners of the building in which they were allowed to keep a ginormous third-party billboard above the hotel (which, according to Rami Tabello of IllegalSigns.ca, also contravenes bylaws) on the condition that the Edgewater sign, supposedly under heritage protection, be kept.

Despite repeated warnings from the city about the situation and likely consequences, the owners allowed the sign to rust away until it became a safety issue, and the city was forced to order it down. I said, "So it's gone?" and Gord said, "Yes." Then I asked, "But what about the legal requirement that they maintain it...." and he interrupted with, "There was no legal requirement that they maintain it; only that they keep it or lose the third-party sign." I said, "And is that going to happen? Will they now lose that sign?" His response was that the enforcement process was in the works, but that it was likely to be lengthy and they'd probably appeal, yadda yadda yadda.

I shuffled home devastated and furious in equal measure: at the city for not better protecting our built heritage, and especially at the building owners for their greed. In a 2006 article, Toronto Star architecture critic Christopher Hume described the practice of "demolition by decay," by which heritage building owners sidestep their responsibilities by simply letting the properties rot until they fail safety inspections and have to come down. Potentially costly problems solved!

It all comes down to what we value, I guess, and whether we have the foresight to do what's necessary to preserve it before it's too late. Anyway, NOW magazine and Torontoist both covered the story, tanks Gott, for which I'm very grateful, and they even included some excellent before and after photos. I hope the coverage shames the owners of 14 Roncesvalles into regretting some of their choices, or at least into thinking twice about future ones.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to find out what happened to the sign. Maybe if it's still out there somewhere, and my neighbours care about it as much as I do, it will someday grace the 'hood once again. A long shot, I know, but it's that "Imagine"-slash-Miracle on 34th Street time of year, isn't it?

Stay tuned for updates.

NOTE: Check out my instructor's version of this post here and let me know what you think!

They're at the post...

Community centre in Dildo, Newfoundland, Aug. '09. Photo: JAC

Greetings and welcome to the inaugural edition of a new all-singing, all-dancing, self-reflexive, post-modern blog. Birth is messy and painful, and the outcome questionable—I don't expect this one to be any different. With this in mind, let me try to keep it simple; i.e., I'll attempt in as few words as possible to describe the scope of this creation.

My goal is to share my stock of conceptual jams, jellies, and preserves, both sweet and savoury, on the subject of our culture and its often wacky products and processes. I would like to tell you about my half-baked amateur theories on how it all functions and how pop-culture products reflect this.

Big topic, I know. I seem to be trying to force an octopus of an idea into a conceptual juice box.

I'll try again.

I'm interested in how we behave in society, and how our culture reflects and sometimes directs that behaviour through its stuff, such as movies, tv, media, material goods, values....well, pretty much everything. I often find cultural artifacts and events funny, but sometimes they're simply horrific. Either way, they're darned interesting. So allow me to invite those of you who share an interest to join me in my rambles, and maybe to do some hypothesizing of your own.