(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: