(Prelude: I will gladly take more suggestions for stupid Nuit Blanche puns. Send ‘em in!)

So the word is Nuit Blanche 2007 was a bit of a disappointment. And as a first-time night wanderer, I can sympathize with many of the criticisms. The crowds were fierce, both in number—greatly expanded beyond last year’s attendance—and in attitude—lots of angry people, including one fellow who just kept swearing and going “LOOK AT YOUR FUCKING ART, YOU FUCKING PRETENTIOUS FUCKS! ARE YOU FUCKING PLEASED?” The descriptions in the guide were vague at best and downright misleading at worst. Things wrapped up too early in some cases, leaving the 6am crowd disappointed. And the transit situation was far less rosy than the initial description—all-night subways! shuttle buses! additional blue light service! Exactly one of those promises worked out as expected; meanwhile we walked from Trinity-Bellwoods all the way back to OCAD and then the Eaton Centre without seeing a single streetcar going our way.

Also, I’m still dealing with the strange guilt I feel about taking my shiny new camera to events. Usually I think of cameras as a great way to remove yourself from the moment and create distance between yourself and whatever fun thing is going on at the moment, but that wasn’t really the problem this time—instead, it’s the creeping feeling that I’m some mercenary contract killer, but instead of taking lives I’m stealing souls and experiences. I’m like that kid who collects Star Wars action figures not because he wants to reenact light saber battles, but because those figures will be worth thousands of dollars someday. Instead of just picking Nuit Blanche events based on what would be a fun or intriguing experience, I was often reframing the festival in terms of “can I get a good shot out of this?” Though I did get some great shots, I’m not sure how I feel yet about taking out the camera so much. It’s a lot easier to see that mercenary side of yourself as photographer when you see all the other people with cameras, themselves coldly examining scenes to figure out the best angles and where the light is best. Toronto was full of soul stealers that night.

But that’s not to say the whole thing was a devastating failure; rather, it was a tantalizing glimpse of what could be Nuit Blanche a couple of years down the line (maybe next year?), when the festival matures and everyone gets their departments sorted. And another example of why I need to chill out with the overthinking photography thing. A quick rundown of events:

Hits
Play by Hear. Easily the exhibit to elicit the most giggles and genuine amusement that night, thanks to a couple of fellows who realized the audio installation, designed to amplify the earbuds of people’s MP3 players, could also be used to amplify their voices when piped through a tube—say, a rolled up Nuit Blanche guide—and proceeded to fart, moan and squeal their way through an impromptu experimental performance. You could hear the sounds all the way from the next thing we saw…

Secret of the Syncope II. When we arrived we were slightly disappointed to find the carpeted asphalt was a section of bike path, not road. It didn’t take long, though, before the shoes came off. And then other people began to treat the whole thing like a communal rec room—a couple of people playing multiplayer DS, a bunch of people in bare feet, and one awesome girl who danced under the pale streetlights for her two companions. Plus, free carpet pieces! (The photo of which I’ll post to the project website at some point.)

Made in Toronto. aka the Graffiti Research Lab mobile laser graffiti unit. If you saw the description for this and wondered where the hell it was all night, you have some reason to be miffed; the “roving” installation stopped in a parking lot just north of the tracks above Lamport Stadium, and never moved from that spot. The only way you’d have noticed it is if you knew about the fence opening leading to Lamport or if you happened to be strolling down Sudbury Street like we were. But once we got there, we got to play with laser graffiti—something I never really thought I’d ever get to do after seeing photos of other laser graffiti rigs. Plus, the secluded spot gave one the sense of discovering a hidden part of the festival—a theme that would repeat itself throughout the night.

City Glow, Starry Night and Wish Swing. Like these installations on King, discovered around 4 in the morning and sparsely populated by hardcore festivalgoers. City Glow is a wide-widescreen animated short that played on a loop all night; if only stuff like this could play in all the city parks every night. Wish Swing we didn’t try, but maybe we should have because it sounds like the full experience is really cool. And Starry Night looked a bit underwhelming when we approached it, but its humble charms were soon apparent once you lay underneath the starry canopy covering home plate at the Stanley Park baseball field. Build it and they will come, indeed.

Abomasum. aka the Chocolate Deer. When I read the Now interview with the artist, she mentioned her worst-case scenario was that no one would show up to take part in the confectionery slaughter. She needn’t have worried, as by the time we got there at the appointed 2am hour, a huge crowd had formed around the unassuming blue tent. The thing that made this particular show so interesting is the weird atmosphere. At one point, several people began chanting lustily for chocolate; at another, an enterprising crowdsurfer almost made it past the security guard but was eventually sent packing—with a hard-won plastic cup of chocolate deer his reward. Try to imagine such a response to the slaughter of a real deer in Trinity-Bellwoods and you might get where I’m coming from.

Angel Night/Dark Night. Of all the events in Zone A this was my favourite, not because it was particularly compelling (the installations left much to be desired) but because the soothing music performances in the church setting was a great breather and stood in stark contrast to the rest of the festival. Nuit Blanche would benefit from more good old-fashioned string quartets playing at 3 in the morning.

Misses
Crowd. I’m willing to concede that maybe I missed the point, but the dazed and confused looks I got from everyone else at the site told me I probably won’t be the only one.

Metropolis. Frankly, the two installations wouldn’t look out of place at the Toronto Home Show.

String of Diamonds. At the end of the day it was just a string of lights anchored by a group of balloons. Newmindspace is saying part of the problem is that people kept stealing the lights and screwing with the main thread (hence the rescinded invitation to direct the main string by tugging on it, which got you some nasty looks at the actual event). As an unofficial follow-up to the fog that filled Philosopher’s Walk last year, it couldn’t hope to put up a good show.

DSM5. Don’t get me wrong; the concept of an outdoor rave outside the ROM crystal on such a busy night was actually a good one. But the projections on the crystal’s walls were barely visible and the crowd felt oddly stilted, like there wasn’t truly enough room for people to dance and to watch at the same time. With the visual component non-existent and the participatory component muted, it didn’t seem to have much of a chance. Also, if you’re going to have a DJ play sets, why schedule them for early in the night? Seems like a party atmosphere outside the ROM at 3am would’ve been a lot more interesting than at 10pm.

Aurora Readiness Centre. I had high hopes for this one, as anyone who knows me knows about my fetish for all things post-apocalyptic. I guess I had in my head the photos of the bomb shelter underneath the Brooklyn Bridge when I thought of this exhibit. In the end it turned out to be one room of the shelter (or maybe the shelter itself is just one room, but who could possibly survive in it for long?) and the walls were covered with simple paintings done by prior visitors to the shelter, which kind of undermined the whole oppressive, claustrophobic feeling I was going for. Plus there was a band setting up in the space, which probably would’ve been cooler had I actually seen them play. All in all, though, bomb shelters didn’t do so well this year.

Regrets
Balloonscape. I was hoping for a balloon maze—like a giant maze in the Eaton Centre made entirely of balloons. What we got instead was more like a big balloon pup tent, which isn’t bad on its own but didn’t have quite the same appeal. Even so, we probably would’ve jumped into the balloon tent happily if not for our worries about the line outside Ghost Station at 6am.

Event Horizon. I was hoping for a crazy emergency scene out of a great disaster movie: flashing lights, smoke, mystery and intrigue. And we got all that, but it came off a bit low-budget, a bit shallow, and very camp. The punchline did save it, though, mainly by neatly undercutting the very expectations I’d had for it.

End of the Party Party. We got to the AGO around 5:30am, and by that point it was obvious the party was on its last legs. Looked like it could’ve been a lot of fun before, though.

Incursion. Maybe it would’ve been more interesting had we actually been able to cut through the massive crowd in front of it. Or maybe the parts we couldn’t see would’ve been about as interesting as the parts we could see, which was to say not very.

Hub A. Of all the hubs, this one was the most crowded and the least compelling. Hub B, by contrast, was awesome—the outdoor drive-in motif wasn’t very strong, but the great short films and the comfortable seating (either in the chairs or on the grassy knoll) more than made up for it.

The stuff I missed. I’m still a bit disappointed we didn’t make it to the moving installation between the house on Baldwin and the Polish Exchange; we never got to see anyone play the Metro Works maintenance garage (we’d arrived between shows and didn’t think we had enough time to see Ghost Station); we didn’t make pom-poms or see the parkour or catch the roving dance party or take part in the shindig outside the service garage near Queen and Dovercourt. And I’m particularly disappointed that we’d written off Non-Specific Threat as too far out of our way, when in fact it appeared to serve up all the urban paranoia and disorientation I’d been hoping for from the various bomb shelter installations.

Postscript: 6:45am. As we waited at Yonge and Bloor for a Blue Light that was headed to Finch, instead of short-turning at Eglinton or York Mills (who at the TTC thought that was a brilliant idea?), my friend pointed out a dark mass floating high in the sky. We’re not entirely sure what it was, but through the long 300mm equivalent lens of my camera at full zoom, it sure looked like the mass of balloons from String of Diamonds.