Night Art

Sometimes I wonder if I'm frittering away what could be my life savings, living in high-rent cities like I do. Then something like Nuit Blanche comes along, and I decide that city life is worth every cent. In a smaller town, would I have the opportunity to stand at the window of a gallery at 1 in the morning, staring at an installation of foil corn? Maybe not.

Nuit Blanche, briefly, is a sunset-to-sunrise, city-wide art party held once a year here in Toronto. Galleries fling open their doors, performance artists set up "happenings" (happenings? Are they still called happenings or was that just the 60s?) in parking lots, and throngs of hipply-dressed people wander the streets of downtown, nodding their heads knowingly.

Despite our lack of hip clothing, Oliver and I decided the join in this year. Some of the highlights included:

A takeoff of the last supper, set against a backdrop of swiftly-moving clouds and chirping birds. Audience members, 12 at a time, were invited to don white robes and eat a special dish of bread and beans served by the artist.

The Gallery of Ephemeral Music. Set up inside the sanctuary of an Anglican church, the "gallery" consisted of a rotating group of musicians. Intense and free-flowing, they used computers, chimes, violins, and some strange crank-operated box/guitar to make what I guess you could only call "avant garde" music while a light show played on the ceiling.

A re-creation of Toronto's cold war fallout shelter, complete with a space for spectators to "draw what fear looks like".

My favorite though, was an apartment that was completely emptied over the course of the night and reassembled on a public lawn three blocks over. I loved this for two reasons. First, we actually got to be a part of the piece by carrying some of the artist's belongings to their temporary home. Picture frames and bookends - woot! Second, I got to see all her things. I love her bookshelves. And her bedding. This probably isn't what she had in mind when she decided to "blur the lines of public and private".