For the 10th Anniversary of the 2011 Stanley Cup Riot (aka V2.0) I thought a trip down memory lane might be in order. I’m no sports fan but when tens of thousands cram together into blockaded streets, the place is guaranteed to turn into a shooting gallery for photo journalists. Actually, the vibe was pretty good in the days leading up to the final game and I genuinely believed there would be no riot. This first section is set up as a gallery, distinct from the riot photos which follow. Click on images to enlarge!
I will add to this feature as time allows. It’s surely worth a decent essay or two. My main issue with it was that, like the first, I was appalled that it wasn’t about something worthwhile. Imagine if this kind of chaos was feared every time housing prices doubled…or any other local crisis was insufficiently addressed.
I recall from the 1994 Stanley Cup Riot (V1.0) that things really ignited when people started climbing poles and goading others. This guy is deserving of the opening spot of this spread and I’m glad he chose to do this outside the Commodore Ballroom. I call it “Rabble Yell”. If only he had an Instagram account…
Come to think of it, he deserves two spots. Where is he now?
My favourite shot from the evening’s festivities is this image of two women in a snapshot duel atop their boyfriends’ shoulders. This is before selfies were quite so prominent. What they are, in this moment, blissfully unaware of is the first teargas canister going off behind them. You can see that between them a couple have just figured this out and are making a break for it.
Some people were just having fun. But they were about to get the memo shortly after this was taken.
Wishful thinking. Looks like it had been dropped a few times.
Granville Mall was soon swept clean with tear gas. I can attest to the effectiveness of that stuff. Hot tip: Don’t use water on your eyes.
I came into the fray from Nelson after seeing a car turned upside down and a growing number of kids taunting the riot squad. Once the volley of hard objects started falling on them they understandably got the cue to charge. But it usually starts with afire being set. And who doesn’t love the smell of burning fast food garbage?
I found the ripping up and parading of trees to be one of the most depressing and barbaric acts I witnessed, and there was no mention of it in the press afterward.
And we’re off!
We ran this image in the final print edition of Vancouver Review in 2011. It was a funny, sweet scene on Seymour at Dunsmuir. Needless to say; wishful thinking.
One of the most important and symbolic pole raising ceremonies in recent memory occurred on April first, 2017 at UBC.
Haida master carver Jim Hart spent two years working on a new pole that serves as both a telling of the trauma of Canada’s First Nations’ experiences under the residential school system, and as a towering symbol of hope for reconciliation and healing.
The pole was raised in the traditional way of hauling it up through sheer force, under many hands, using ropes. The beauty of this event was that it also served as an open invitation for all members of the community to literally lend a hand. After survivors took some time to be with, and touch the pole in close proximity, hundreds of people took to the ropes and raised it to the sky. It was a powerful and moving moment for many. There isn’t much more to say, other than to offer some images that tell at least part of the story.
For more information, please check out the many links that will give you a fuller background, starting with this one:
http://news.ubc.ca/2017/03/30/reconciliation-pole-to-be-installed-on-ubc-vancouver-campus/
Jim Hart overseeing the raising of the pole
Next to the catastrophic, “End Times”-like scenario predicted for the closure of Point Grey Road for the purpose of encouraging cycling/boosting property values of well connected citizens/turning Fourth Avenue into a rush hour death chute, the remodeling of the Burrard Street Bridge was going to be the most anticipated act of civic vandalism to take place in 2016. Pre-construction mock-up images of the dreaded “suicide barrier” had heritage advocates up in arms because it was a) ugly and b) not likely going to be effective.
But then this happened. Basically, it’s all pretty A-OK and they’ve even upped the ante by putting in some gorgeous, period-style lighting standards. The only thing they could have done better was to revive the stairway shortcut on the south end that was sealed off sometime in the 1930s. Vancouver? Time to direct your rage in different, more useful directions!
Whenever I’m downtown I like to wander past some of the older buildings that have evaded the wrecker’s ball for one reason or another. There aren’t many left. My earliest memory of an old downtown heritage building was the one at 804 Pender Street where my mother began Spectrum Players’ Lunch Hour Theatre in 1969. That spot is now a pizza outlet (Sciué) at the base of an office tower. Across the street once stood the Alhambra Theatre. But generally speaking, outside of Gastown and its periphery, nearly everything made of brick or stone has vanished or been treated to lethal doses of “façadism”.
Once the Expo lands were cleared (and a few old buildings on the periphery suffered convenient blazes), the north shore of False Creek was pretty much Berlin, 1945. Flattened. A blank slate. Now it’s a big, soulless grey slate, albeit with wonderful waterfront access and a single dominant cultural centre in the form of the excellent Roundhouse Community Centre. But our mayor at the time had no real plan and refused to consider one, preferring instead to rely on zoning practices that allowed developers to shape the area into a potential JG Ballard novella. Give it 20 years. You’ll see.
Then there’s the strip along Hastings, the 100 block. During the post-Expo 80s and into the 90s it came to host after hours clubs, micro theatre spaces and galleries. Most were shabby, makeshift affairs that at least afforded creative use while awaiting gentrification. One of those spaces, for a time, was the Or Gallery.
Further west, into the core, the post office remains (likely to serve as pediment for more condos) as does one highly conspicuous, narrow old structure at 555 Hamilton Street better known as the Del Mar Hotel. Since 2008 it’s also been home to the Or Gallery after it was forced from the 100 block of Hastings. 555 has a long gallery affiliation, as the Bau Xi began there in 1965. The CAG also did time beneath the rooms. And in the 90s, the owner resisted development pressure from BC Hydro so that the low income hotel and street front gallery space remains.
The text intervention work “Unlimited Growth Increases the Divide” by Kathryn Walter greets all who enter on the slate above the entrance. And the alley to the north has served me well whenever I’ve had need of a sheltered space to do a portrait or two. I recall shooting George Vergette for the Straight there. In any event, I recently noticed a new text piece on the wall high up on the side of the building. It was difficult to find an angle to view or photograph so I cast down to see this image. I was immediately struck by its resemblance to a whale (I’ve done a series of “Abject Orcas”, photos of awful, painted or sculptural renderings of “the killer whale” in public spaces). It also looked like a painting by Robert Linsley. I’ve no idea whether this is an intentional work. Perhaps it’s simply how a series of graffiti tags were covered over. Or not.
112 West Hastings. Photo by Ian Lindsay, Vancouver Sun. 1994.
Our feature article in the Winter, 2010 issue of Vancouver Review was a sprawling piece by architecture critic Trevor Boddy that rounded heavily on the sad architectural legacy the 2010 Winter Games would leave us with. One notable exception was the Richmond Oval and its superb engineering achievements as well as its ongoing usefulness to the community. We can’t argue with that, though we’d have preferred they kept the actual oval ice track for public skates. Less appealing are the dominant and numerous security cameras in front of the venue. These still rankle. But inside now, the re-branded ROX “Richmond Oval eXperience” offers an additional bonus; a very enjoyable museum display of (mostly winter) Olympic memorabilia and interactive kiosks. You can also do a simulated bobsled run and, less convincingly, do a virtual ski jump! Oh, and the sandwiches at the café are good!
But what of all that building going on nearby? Well, as with all things Vancouver, it was always about real estate. Five years on from the games and it’s fair to say that a condo building orgy was always on the cards for the area. If you want to see the future, as shaped by our Olympic Legacy (TM), here is a photo series documenting the construction hoardings opposite the Richmond Oval as of April, 2016. Very white, very rich, very louche. “Share the Fantasy” …
Sometimes it’s enough to just post a photograph.
http://www.howardwfrench.net/shanghai.php
It’s fall. There’s a civic election in the air and leaves on the ground. And in Vancouver, the issue of “bikes vs. cars” is always just around the corner. So it seems like a good time to feature this image from our VR Centrefold series.
This site-specific arrangement of Mazda car bits was created by cycling artist Sara Ross. She and I met on a quiet road near a bikeway and set this up to shoot for our Centrefold a few years back. It is available as a fine-art print at 18″ square. There are 20 available. Send us a note if you’re interested in purchasing one!
Over the last few years I’ve been keeping an eye out for representations of the orca in public spaces. I’ve spotted them in tacky murals, as ‘sponsored’ charity sculptures and, occasionally, as serious public art installations. Of course, the real thing seems to be making some welcome and occasionally spectacular appearances in close local waters. Recently, just five minutes from me, there was a pod frolicking at Jericho beach. More and more amateur videos are being posted of sightings from local ferry decks. And every so often, one or two will even make their way into Burrard Inlet under the Lion’s Gate Bridge. But aside from the many stunning, largely traditional First Nations works one sees at galleries, museums and at the airport, the orca has not been all that well served here in terms of public art. This is not the case just two hours south of the border…
On a recent trip to Seattle I visited an incredibly effective installation I’d read about over a decade ago but had never searched out — I’d mistakenly believed it to be situated in some remote coastal location. My memory had it overlooking the open Pacific somewhere and being comprised of submarine conning towers. It sounded fantastic…but inaccessible. Thankfully, it’s actually located in Magnuson Park at Sand Point in Seattle (the site of a former U.S. naval base) which is only a stone’s throw from Seattle’s University District. That makes it accessible to any day-tripper to the Emerald City. And it’s well worth your time.
University of Washington sculpture professor John T. Young’s “Fin Project” was installed in 1998 and uses diving-plane fins from decommissioned U.S. navy attack submarines from the 1960s, which are arranged in the earth to simulate the dorsal fins of a large orca whale pod. The immediate visual connection between a fleet of nuclear attack subs and an orca pod is stunningly clear and is, by turns, both beautiful and sinister, depending largely on the weather and the angle of view. This ambitious piece works on so many levels I couldn’t help but wish we had its equal in Vancouver. It also represents the ultimate in recycling. “From Swords into Plowshares” is the subtitle of the project thus placing it in the additional realm of peace activism. And as a side benefit, it also represents a portion of the US defense budget being returned to the people in the form of art.
So what does Vancouver have to offer on the orca front? Well, besides those free-standing orcas that littered the city some years ago (including the horrific Orca Elvis which stood outside the now-extinct Virgin Megastore), we have Doug Coupland’s charming Digital Orca which largely welcomes tourists to the Convention Centre Plaza on the downtown waterfront.
Contrasting The Fin Project with Digital Orca is perhaps unfair. Tourists love it. It’s hard not to like. The sculpture gives the viewer the impression of looking at a 3D pixelated orca. I’ve often heard it referred to as the “Lego whale” which, given the world’s current fixation on Lego (TM) is perfectly reasonable. There will probably be some differing generational interpretations made here. Coupland’s statement on the accompanying plaque states that he is “making a familiar symbol of the West Coast become something unexpected and new.” Well, yes. It does that but it also feels a little too clever. I do like it. But I’ll never feel a need to revisit except perhaps to meet a friend for a walk around the seawall. The Fin Project, however, will remain on my list of “must dos” when visiting Seattle. It’s a vastly more impressive and powerful work. It demands you spend some real time in its presence.
Here are some more public representations of these incredible creatures. Variations can be found all over the province on the sides of supermarkets and tourist kiosks. These are all from the Vancouver area.
Mural on Victoria Drive
From “Feel-good Orcas” in VR #3, Fall 2004. This one was mounted outside the Virgin Megastore at Robson and Burrard. The location was once home to the Vancouver Public Library. It is now a Victoria’s Secret outlet.
One of the “Feel-good Orcas” in a downtown law office. Auctioned off to benefit Easter Seals and the Canucks For Kids Fund, these sculptures still manage to pop up in unlikely places.
Both of these can be seen on the side of a hotel as you approach the city northwards via the Granville St. bridge. The mural is in stark contrast to the squalor of the hotel.
And an updated view as of February 6th, 2015
This image presented itself, unbidden, at a local sushi restaurant. A simple exit sign that somehow seemed fitting to convey the feel of the novel EXIT in relation to the upcoming VR Media mini-feature on literary translation.
