dt_toronto_geek
Superstar
Re: Nuit Blanche (FAB Magazine, Oct. 17-07)
Nightless City was truly less
I could have slept through this year’s Nuit Blanche festivities on Church Street. The much-ballyhooed gaybourhood component of the city-wide art happening was about as exciting as the softcore pseudo-porn on late-night cable television. After months of hype about Nightless City, I was primed for outré exhibits and envelope-pushing performances that explored the intertwining of art and sexuality. Instead, I was handed the corporate-sponsored dregs of Pride. Judging by the bored faces of those ambling up and down the strip, I was not alone in feeling cheated of sleep for little more than the usual Saturday night queues on Church.
Also, I was totally lost. Nightless City was listed as a collective exhibition in the Nuit Blanche guide, with no further details. I went looking for “Asleep,†an all-night projection of homelessness-themed photographs and visual works at Church and Maitland but only found four inflatable phalli blowing smoke into the air (perhaps up a metaphorical ass?). This ode to ejaculation was laughable in its resemblance to the portable ballrooms found at suburban malls during fall fairs.
A half-hour of mostly fruitless wandering left me with the suspicion that Nightless City was little more than a crass ploy by the Church-Wellesley Village Business Improvement Area to gain access to the extended liquor service hours available. Nevertheless, I did enjoy the live writing event (with shadow dancing accompaniment) at This Ain’t the Rosedale Library and was sufficiently perturbed by a performance artist dressed as a young bride and cradling an eviscerated goat carcass.
The night’s most appalling sight was those moronic American Apparel kids in their creepy ’70s-style gym clothes hollering and cavorting with hula hoops. Their idiotic commercial antics had no place in a celebration of the arts and merely served to underscore the blandness of an event that ended up offering more to area merchants than it did to Toronto’s art lovers and the gay community.
Christos Tsirbas writes for CBC Radio and Instinct magazine.
Nightless City was truly less
I could have slept through this year’s Nuit Blanche festivities on Church Street. The much-ballyhooed gaybourhood component of the city-wide art happening was about as exciting as the softcore pseudo-porn on late-night cable television. After months of hype about Nightless City, I was primed for outré exhibits and envelope-pushing performances that explored the intertwining of art and sexuality. Instead, I was handed the corporate-sponsored dregs of Pride. Judging by the bored faces of those ambling up and down the strip, I was not alone in feeling cheated of sleep for little more than the usual Saturday night queues on Church.
Also, I was totally lost. Nightless City was listed as a collective exhibition in the Nuit Blanche guide, with no further details. I went looking for “Asleep,†an all-night projection of homelessness-themed photographs and visual works at Church and Maitland but only found four inflatable phalli blowing smoke into the air (perhaps up a metaphorical ass?). This ode to ejaculation was laughable in its resemblance to the portable ballrooms found at suburban malls during fall fairs.
A half-hour of mostly fruitless wandering left me with the suspicion that Nightless City was little more than a crass ploy by the Church-Wellesley Village Business Improvement Area to gain access to the extended liquor service hours available. Nevertheless, I did enjoy the live writing event (with shadow dancing accompaniment) at This Ain’t the Rosedale Library and was sufficiently perturbed by a performance artist dressed as a young bride and cradling an eviscerated goat carcass.
The night’s most appalling sight was those moronic American Apparel kids in their creepy ’70s-style gym clothes hollering and cavorting with hula hoops. Their idiotic commercial antics had no place in a celebration of the arts and merely served to underscore the blandness of an event that ended up offering more to area merchants than it did to Toronto’s art lovers and the gay community.
Christos Tsirbas writes for CBC Radio and Instinct magazine.