The legendary traffic that is now part of Toronto lore ( I'm being kind here) is something I was happy to avoid by being located in the satellite town of Kleinburg (a "burb" by any other name...). Lately, we have been making the trip into the downtown core as often as possible to visit our grandson who thinks he's six months old, but is only six weeks old. New grandparents understand the allure, or perhaps the addiction. Nothing can stop you from getting your fix. So you tolerate the congested roadways, and chalk up an hour and 19 minutes as a new record time. No problem. The little guy is worth it!
I never know where inspiration comes from for my painting, but it is evident in the two pieces presented here that in the Commute, the return journey is somewhat less frantic than the journey to get there. The tapestry-like pieces are an indication of the fragmented nature of the city. It should not, but somehow does, hold together. The blurred geometry passes by one's eyes as one concentrates on the drive ahead. On a streetcar or bus, the experience is different, but the same frenetic pace is clearly evident. Toronto, my place of birth, and the city where my children choose to live. My home. I will not use this blog to eschew all of the good that there is in this city- that goes without saying but allow me if I may:
World class, my ass. (It was hard to resist this little rhyme, so please forgive me)
World class only to real estate agents. I will only give one example here as to why it is not world class as it pertains to art.
Frank Gehry, a Toronto son, a world-renowned architect has pure examples of his vision all over the truly world-class cities on this planet where they let his vision become reality. Unhinged. Without reservation. His architecture is sometimes the sole reason to visit a city. The structures have become attractions. They can bring the world to your door.
In T.O., they allowed him a piece of the action in the Art Gallery of Ontario redesign. A little bit of Gehry yes, but not the whole thing- that would be too much! Frank, here's the cash, but we'll tie your hands and blindfold you- now g'head....
It takes time to go from Wonderbread to Ciabatta and Naan. Acquired tastes. It appears to some, because of our multicultural mosaic, that we are already there, and that we are open to almost anything. We are getting there, but we are not there yet. The ingredients are there, but like a good minestrone, they must simmer, and that takes time.
A little bit of Gehry will have to suffice for now. In the meantime, enjoy the commute as there is much to see.