Art All Night

Hardly ever go out– seriously. After a partial week spent multi-tasking at a busy public service desk, I’m ready for solitary confinement. Often I need to recover a bit from the job as well, before I can paint, because uh, chicken– no spring. This also cuts into my social life. I’ve actually missed openings where my own work was up because of the inability to budge from a prone position. But the one occasion I will make an effort towards, in spite of insubordinate body parts, is Nuit Blanche. It’s my favourite annual art event, more than any fair or large gathering of art and artists. Those other venues tend to have so much work concentrated in one area, that homogeneity becomes an unfortunate result. After a while everything starts to look the same, regardless of quality, and it’s hard to remember what was outstanding. A few of us even succumb to torpor.


I don’t know if brisk autumn air perpetually slaps everyone awake during a course of Nuit Blanche. Perhaps the short distance between exhibits, provides enough time for people to “walk off” and process what was last seen before they engage with the next discovery. Then again, many sites keep the crowds alert and conscious because they’re interactive, solicit participation in order to function or succeed. Certainly that dazed sensation which occurs after staring at too much work, is absent when I’m out exploring art in the city after dark. The enormous scale and production of some commissioned projects commands attention alone, with or without audio components that blast puny mortals out of their shoes. Every Nuit Blanche I attended contained memorable work. An iridescent waterfall composed of recycled water bottles. One street where house windows became screens for the projection of larger than life silhouettes performing different tasks. The shameless pleasure of being allowed to look in other peoples’ windows. A large, elegant circle made out of just one piece of thin silver tape, airborne and blown into fluid, ever-changing shapes by the placement of strategic fans. A tower structure built entirely of books– a personal delight because I actually work at a university library dubbed “Fort Book” and could now tell my colleagues I encountered the real thing. Of course, not everything is remarkable or even questionably, art. Line-ups can turn out to be unworthy of the wait. But the diamonds and the duds both contribute towards an exciting evening where it feels as if the whole city (well, at least most of downtown) becomes a canvas for those who know how to transform it for one night. Buildings, lots, alleyways, streets, courtyards– convert from their normal usage into otherworldly places. In fact, participating galleries that remain open for the night, tend to play a more supporting role rather than main attraction. I still appreciate their inclusion since they demonstrate the breadth and range of art presentation– from conventional walls to unusual spaces. Although Nuit Blanche is enjoyable, I’ve always felt a little excluded when so much art was available but I wasn’t in any of the shows. However this year, I managed to get one painting into the “Insomnia” exhibition at the Red Head Gallery. So it was doubly fun to explore other artists’ work and know I was part of the event as well. So what if sometimes an offering appears to be no more than a bad outdoor concert, or worse– underwhelming pretension? There’s a crazy pleasure in being able to discern (in one’s own opinion) what is good, bad or downright ugly when so much conspires to distract the viewer. Part of the fun involves testing personal resolve and judgement in the midst of boom box music, spell-binding lights and the aroma of funnel cakes and sausages, swirling around food stalls which is JUST DIVINE.

Noise, cold, crowds, food– Art? Is that you? Some individuals do manage to cover all the zones before they collapse into bed Sunday morning. Obviously that doesn’t happen for those of us who “pumpkinize” well before midnight. My friends and I traditionally select a route or area that will eventually conclude near a subway station. Nuit Blanche proves that art is vital to the welfare of a city. Restaurants located in the various zones are inevitably packed. Public transit increases usage. Stores extend their business to the swell crowds brought along by late hours. More importantly, it exposes a greater population to the experience of art, including and beyond, what is known and familiar.