My love of photographing signs happened really quite organically. I began learning how to use my first real camera as an adult in my 20s at the same time as I began taking road trips across the continent with one of my best friends, Paul Lancaric. I had always had a love for buildings and signage from the early 20th century and as we criss-crossed North America, I could barely contain my excitement for all there was to see in that department. Eventually, I got better with the camera, began to study the craft, and move towards making it a profession, and that habit and love just came right along with me. A few years into my career, I visited him in Vancouver and was stunned to find that that mid-century photos of Vancouver by Fred Herzog which I knew well, were so incredibly different to the stripped bare and re-imagined city I found before me, so I found myself wanting to document what was left. To find out what had sparked the change. Who had held on and restored things. Etc.
There is a dramatic, theatrical quality to your signage photography. How has your past work influenced your approach to photographing neon signs?
For me, a good photograph is one that captures the feeling of the subject, more than an accurate image of what it looks like. This philosophy -- or ambition -- is what I carry into photographing neon signs. While you don't always get the best circumstances and sometimes I'll just document something because I'm there, even if the light or time isn't right, usually, I'm trying to find that right time or day or even the angle that tells me more about the history of this sign, where it fits in the streetscape, or even better, where it fits in the community. The best images are ones that contain all of that. I tend to revisit places again and again if I haven't quite found it yet... always looking... but sometimes, the sign is gone by the time you return, so on a very basic level, I always just take the picture. Make the record. Sometimes, just sharing that record, inspires people to think more about the sign. Perhaps some small effect in trying to preserve it.
While travelling across North America photographing signs for your book “Buzzing Lights”, how did you find Toronto signs compared to other North American cities? Did you notice a difference in their condition, scale, materials, colours, types of businesses?
To be honest, despite such a love for Toronto, it did not hold a place of pride in my mind when it came to signage and preservation of these elements in our city. When I started, I could count the number of signs on my fingers and one hand was made up of the ailing and soon-to-vanish ones. I was always told that the culprit was winter. Harsh winters and all the salt we use therein were always cited as corrosive to our preservation landscape, not just signage. "Things don't last," was the chorus, and I think people actually believe it. It seems to makes sense. Then in 2010 I finally got over to Chicago and walked around with my mouth hanging open for a whole day. I knew their winters were just as harsh, if not worse, frankly, than ours, and they also love to use tonnes of salt on, but everywhere I turned, historic buildings, fountains, hand-painted signs and, of course, neon were in incredible shape. Small bars and shops, giant theatre marquees, and even atop the Skyway when you enter the city... there was colour and light. Maintained neon signs glowing. It delighted me and broke my heart a bit for Toronto. So many great signs were going or gone when they could have been the heart of communities. (I think immediately of the Canary Restaurant sign when I reflect on this. The neighbourhood was named after that place and yet they ripped it out. Imagine if there was this little yellow glowing corner at the heart of the neighbourhood. How beautiful that glow would be!)
Signage preservation is emerging in North America as awareness grows around how these signs define the neighbourhoods around them. What do you think about the effort to refurbish old signs and replacing neon tubing with newer LED technologies that replicate the look of neon? Does that affect how they’re photographed and the light quality?
Replacing neon tubing with LED definitely changes the quality of the light and presence of the sign. LED is notoriously problematic to photograph in general (don't get me started on how terrible it looks in concert venues) though it's not as bad in the 'fake neon' form. It's just very weak and flat. It doesn't have that glow of neon... and as a person who really appreciates the incredible skill of hand-crafting a neon sign, I can't imagine suggesting that LED refurbishing is the way to go, but as a last resort for spaces where neon tubes are a safety issue or continue to be broken or stolen on the street, one has to consider them a reasonable alternative to keep a historic sign alive. The historic elements of our streetscapes have value to us for many reasons, but one is the sheer presence they have. Subbing in plastic copy-cat versions based on the original is never going to be worthwhile, so finding a healthy middle ground with restoring a sign is important, I think.
Since neon signs have various qualities and details that are only visible at night or during the day, how do you determine when to photograph a sign?
If I have the opportunity, I love to photograph a site by day and night, but sometimes, if only one visit is in the cards, I will take a look at the design and consider which one really tells the story of this particular piece of art. With most simple signs, the tubes may be clear and the steel structure on which they're mounted has shape, detail and it's own colour and hand-painted details. Sometimes that's much of the beauty of the sign. Think of some of the classic "florist" signs that once dotted the city. The neon just said "FLORIST" but perhaps there was a family name painted on top of some flowers, striping or colour combination. Those elements complete it. You want to see it by day. But other times, you have incredibly complex signs with syncopated lights in multiple colours, or they are so large that they illuminate the space around them, and then you need to see the scene by night.
Sam the Record Man was a fine example of that. The energy under all that glowing light at street level and the power and colour of the tubes. Even the small red hanging neon at Massey Hall I've only photographed at night. It's very nice by day, but at night that red washes over the entrance doors, the sidewalk, and all the excited patrons below it. It's a feeling, and that's what you want to capture.
On my first visit to Porland, Oregon, I photographed an historic theatre called the Laurelhurst in the middle of the afternoon. A cream coloured facade with red details, and classic clear neon tubing all over the facade. It was lovely! Then a couple years later, I saw a photo of it online that someone had shot at night and, WOW. I had to go back. All that clear tubing on the facade actually is designed to light up in several different colours to create a facade that is a 2-story peacock's tail which illuminates the whole street. When I finally returned, I shot it at night in the rain so that I could get some of that spectacular atmosphere and the light reflected on the street. The daytime was pretty, but the night time was a feeling... and for me, the feeling is always what's most important in a picture.
How do you find the signs you photograph? Do you explore by car and happen upon them or do you plan out destinations ahead of time?
In the early days of photographing signs, I was just coming across things of interest and photographing them as I went. When I got serious about documenting, I began making notes when I saw things online or was given a tip from a friend or colleague. As I did this, I would sometimes look something up, and find out that it was in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere that I had, in fact, already been through, but totally missed the spot by a block or two. Dahhh! So now, while I keep a "Signs To See" map in my Google maps, I also research places that are on my route so that I can be on the right road and not miss a chance at seeing something spectacular -- that sadly may not be there if and when I return some day.
Photographers are often approached a lot when they’re out in the field, photographing their subjects. What kinds of conversations have you had with people while documenting signs?
Oh so many! In small towns people are very protective of their historic spaces so I've been approached on the offensive by folks who thought I might be from a development company surveying the property or something. In Burlington, Kansas, one such person then proceeded to ask me where I was from and when I said, "Canada," he was quick to tell me that a Canadian had bought the theatre and had said they were going to restore it but he wasn't sure what was happening and was suspicious! I assured him I had no idea, and was just passing through, but that it was a GREAT theatre so I hoped it happened for them.
And for a laugh... Once, when photographing the sign atop Filmore's strip club in Toronto, a man in a white shirt and black vest came out the front door and asked me what I was doing. "I'm just taking a picture of the sign!" I shouted over. He replied with disbelief, "Really? Why??" Not entirely surprised, I just said, "'Cause I think it's great!" He stepped out onto the sidewalk, looked up, and shouted back, "I think it's pretty tacky! I laughed and could only say, "Tacky is good." He laughed and shrugged and went back inside.
Forgive me as I haven't reread it --as I spent more time than I had and now I'm running out the door--but I wanted to get it over to you. Feel free to write me with any follow-up q's or requests for clarification.
Looking forward to seeing what you're working on!
Tanja