Oh Freedom, Where Art Thou?

So I broke my rule of never buying new books in hardcover and bought Freedom by Jonathan Franzen. Moreover, I tend not to get too excited about books set in contemporary America. Reading for me--fiction or nonfiction--is another form of travel; both stem from my innate desire to experience new places, people, and ages. And lacking an interest to travel to 21st century America, I tend to turn away from such works. I am, however, happy to report that I surprised even myself, and fell for Freedom almost instantly. Although the story is captivating in and of itself, and is certainly well written, I found unraveling the characters' various quests for the titular goal of Freedom the most fascinating aspect of the piece.

Although it sometimes bordered on cheesy how every character--and story line--was a commentary on Freedom, looking past that I found a deep commentary on Franzen's view of true liberation. Whether it be Patty's quest to escape the overbearing apathy of her parents, or Walter's seemingly selfless need to save the environment from humanity, or Joey's desire to become financially and emotionally independent, or Richard's motivation to rid himself of the idealized expectations thrown upon him by Walter, each character was struggling, in his or her own way, to become free from the entanglement of their past and their family and friends populating the present. The main story line, Walter's efforts to preserve a parcel of land for the warbler in West Virginia, also speaks to the book's central theme.

As each character tries, fails, and then tries again to find freedom, the reader is faced with the fact that the freedom most people yearn for isn't just about a lack of restriction or outside influence or physical intrusion. That type of freedom, personified by Walter's alcoholic, homeless brother, is a hollowed, empty existence that when achieved, only fails to satisfy each character. It is only with the story drawing to a close that a sense of calm finally descends upon the Berglunds. But what is interesting is the cause. For it isn't the achievement of the freedom they initially sought, but a more personal freedom. Instead of isolating themselves, each character faced their concerns and learned to live freely amongst both those around them and their own psychologies.

But what does this all mean for those of us non-fictional characters? For one, traditional freedom isn't all it's cracked up to be. Freedom in the commonly thought of sense--escape from all restraints and roadblocks--isn't what we really want. Otherwise we would all become homeless alcoholics with no responsibilities, free to roam as we see please. Instead, what we are really after is the sort of freedom found in the end of Freedom: a freedom from our own self-deprecation and struggle after a freedom that doesn't exist. We need to stop thinking we can be free if we resist the pressure from our jobs, our families, and our morals. Instead, we need to look inside, become comfortable with ourselves, and find the freedom that comes from living up to no one's expectations but our own.

A Young Woman and the Sea

The first time I tried to read The Old Man and the Sea I was only about 10 and never made it through to the end. Even though I  certainly had my own fish to battle, I still wasn't mature enough to fully appreciate the struggle the Old Man went through to catch the marlin. I finally picked it up again last week and from my new 26 year-old perspective it deeply resonated with me. I found the Old Man's determination to not let the disadvantages of his age and limited means keep him from his goal both inspiring and defeating. As someone who has always been in a battle against my health, with the ways of the ocean seeming insurmountable, reading about another man's success, albeit fictitious, made me feel all the less successful in my own struggle. After all, if Santiago could catch his fish, why couldn't I?

It was upon pondering this that I became aware of the key element to Santiago's success. It wasn't just his sheer determination and will that allowed him to catch the marlin; it was his ability to know his own strengths and weaknesses and work within those natural boundaries. Instead of trying to pretend that he was younger and stronger than he really was, Santiago found ways to hold on to the marlin without needing the fitness age had taken from him. The most poignant example of this comes from Santiago's approach to the struggle with the marlin. Instead of forcing the catch by tugging at the line, Santiago works with the situation at hand and bides his time, knowing that in due course, the fish will come to him. Instead of struggling with what cannot be changed, he works within his means to accomplish his goal.

The fact that he ultimately loses the fish is, in this limited sense, irrelevant. The hollowed-out carcass may not be able to provide him with food or money  but it rests there, tied up to the small boat, as a token of his success. And what is that success? On the surface it is catching the biggest fish the community has seen; deep down it is knowing that he still has the wits to catch the biggest fish in the sea.

It happened one Nuit Blanche

Another year and another Nuit Blanche has come and gone. Each year it seems the event gets bigger, and thus my disappointment about not being able to see everything increases. Despite that, the event is always one of my favorite nights each year as a result of the unique opportunity to experience so many different and unique forms of art that inspire, intrigue, overwhelm, and make me go "what the....". Although a lot of debate surrounds the "pureness" of the art, one thing that can be surely agreed upon is that it is great way to bring art to the masses, whether we get the meaning behind it or not. Unfortunately my night this year was severely hampered by a completely ineffective TTC, to the point that I spent more time walking than viewing. That being said, I'm still glad I went out, I still saw a bunch of cool stuff, and I think that more than ever it is important for us as a city to embrace these events that bring everyone together and show the Rob Ford's of the world that closing streets and enjoying art is a meaningful and worthwhile activity.

 And now, my photo-diary of the night! Unfortunately the first two exhibits we saw either didn't allow photographs, or were not conducive to iPhone camera technology. But they were probably among my favorite from the evening. The first involved lying in a church pew (which served as your "coffin") and listening to people talk to you over your grave (complete with video on the ceiling). The second was a performance piece by a guy with a phantom limb that involved water, lights, music, and film. After that we saw a cool sound installation. A track was playing speech that kept coming out of different speakers, all of which was on the topic of listening. The organ was playing music that also changed speakers, for an overall interesting auditory experience.

 The next set of pictures are from the Gladstone, which we finally got to after walking all the way down Dufferin from Bloor. There were numerous small exhibits here, each offering something a little bit different. I really wanted to push this coat hanger mass around, since it reminded me of a tumbleweed, but I figured the artist wouldn't appreciate it too much. That and I don't think it would have fit through the door frame.

 This exhibit allowed participants to create roses out of clay and add them to the collection. There were already a sizable amount by the time we go there around 2am. I'm curious to see how big it got by dawn.

 In a room that offered a drawing of what the view would have looked like during the heyday of the British Empire in the Toronto region, one participant added his own form of art.

 Because nothing excites me more than things made out of food!This......sculpture?....is made out of milk, believe it or not!

These two pictures are of a screen that had a permanent foreground, but a varied background. On top of that, audience members could go behind the screen and poke their heads through to become part of the exhibit, as Chris did below. And since we were all the way over at the Gladstone, no line-ups!

 A room filled with crazy black balloons. This was almost like a spiderweb, but black, and well, without any spiders.

 I don't even know what this was, but this picture is from a section of a wall piece that looked cool in person, and managed to photograph pretty well too.

 Like the rubik's cube art that is on display in the Distillery District, this image was better seen through the screen of a digital camera. This was part of an exhibit at the Gardiner museum that was supposed to deal with our future society. However, I felt that the various elements there did not really connect with that message, and was mostly disappointed.

 By now it was around 3:30am so most of the crowds were gone, but Bloor street was still closed, and even regular traffic information screens were serving as canvases for the evening.

Lastly, a giant projection onto the face of Holt Renfrew. I don't know where the got the pictures from--it would have been really cool if they were from people at other Nuit Blanch exhibits--but all those smiles were a nice way to end the evening.