Hello my name is...

Thinking about the city from the perspective of a child is considerably challenging given the fact that I couldn’t possibly tell you specifically what would have been considered note worthy back then. Honestly, I can’t even remember what I did of significance just yesterday. So I’m going to abandon ship on that idea and rant about something more relevant.

Getting to discuss the ways in which Edmonton can be interpreted with a variety of different people today was really refreshing. There were an array of perspectives, but what I found surprising is the way in which people from the same area of the city interpret things around them in a similar fashion. Memory, and sense of a location, is one part personal and one part collective. Mistakenly I was anticipating that everyone would share a very similar sense of the city’s spaces. Not really the case at all. Reading Ian McGillis’s A Tourists Guide to Glengarry really made me reflect on how a section of the larger picture of Edmonton as a city could feel so different to different people. It really makes you question your perspective when looking at something as familiar as your neighborhood.

When we were asked to personify Edmonton, at first we couldn’t come up with a definitive answer. That is simply because Edmonton doesn’t know who the hell it is.

One serious case of multiple personality disorder.

All of the different parts of town have their own distinct personalities (or perceived personalities). Downtown core: gluttonous man in a business suit. Whyte Avenue: hipster. Garneau: University student. 118 Ave: hobo (or as I have become accustomed to calling them: urban outdoorsmen). Bonnie Doon: I think Bevin and I settled on old person (???). I might also suggest someone stuck in time, as I’m positive nothing has changed in the 21 years I’ve lived in the area. West End: mom who drives a mini van… The list could go on and on.

So I’m wondering, how would you personify other parts of Edmonton? (Feel free to offer up other suggestions for the ones already mentioned as well). 

Bringing the city together with a sea of green

While reading the latest issue of See Magazine on my bus ride home, I stumbled upon an article by Brian Gould reimagining Gateway Boulevard, all the potential that it holds. In Gould’s sketches of Whyte Ave/ Gateway Boulevard the space would be lined with street level shops and apartments on top, there would be benches and planters abound, pedestrian action at all hours, tress that line the boulevard and surrounding streets, patios for communities to gather summer and winter alike.

The street name is as deceiving as the physical space.  “Gateway” suggests a grand entry of some variety, a transitional space to the heart of the city. And “Boulevard” is more than a synonym for street, and is a promenade for people in motion lined with architectural feats, divided by a row of trees. Gould suggests that if we were to let the space become what the name implies we could create a linear park, providing a green connection into the river valley (arguably one of the most loved aspects of the city), linking Fringe venues, festival sites and neighborhoods.

What struck me most about the written description and accompanying sketches was the vats amount of green. Apparently nature is a huge factor linked to the “livability” of an area (Vancouver being considered one of the most livable major Canadian cities). I have grown up loving urban centers, and one of the things that I love most about Edmonton is that there is actually a pretty nice balance between the natural and the urban. Unlike some urban centers, there is some room for green. Another major thing that struck me about the piece is that the proposed natural spaces would work with the pre-existing space, working to join the parts of the city.

What’s your take? How would reimagining this space benefit the city and our identity as Edmontonians? 

Catching up with my misperceptions and revelations

What have I learnt so far? You would think it would be incredibly easy to summarize all of the things I have taken in, but in reality I find these posts the hardest to pin down. But here it goes…

-Trevor Anderson is a genius. Apart from being hilarious his short film really made me give the High Level Bridge some serious thought. It’s such an integral part of the city, bridging together north and south. And at the same time I realized that although it gives you a spectacular view of the river valley and makes for excellent photo shoots it really makes me uneasy. I always feel claustrophobic when I drive across, like the guy in the big ass pickup truck will lose focus for one second and crush my tiny little car. A common site of suicides and the city has really not taken any drastic preventative measures. Apparently they value aesthetics over human lives.

-I really enjoyed reading the pieces from Edmonton on Location because they all seemed to address Edmonton in a different light. I found Hiemstra’s piece particularly engaging: uneasiness was created through the pace of the narrative allowing for a voyeuristic experience of something that most of us turn a blind eye to. More significantly the works evoked a great sense of guilt. A burial ground at Rossdale? How could I not have known?! I drive past the memorial on a weekly basis but never realized what I was looking at. These histories are the histories that belong to me as an Edmontonian. It’s about time I take ownership with that past.

-I have never liked poetry. However, Knight and Major did not seem like a burden to read (could be due to the incorporation of mythology into the foundation of this city. I have a certain fondness for Classics).

-The mapping project, as demanding as it may have been, illustrates the multiplicity of ways to interpret the spaces that we inhabit. From the sounds of things it appears that no two maps were exactly the same, and the maps that focused on similar areas suggested different ways to view/question the space. It’s interesting to see how everyday places, parts of our collective memory, can vary so greatly. They have challenged the way I think about the spaces around me, which was one aspect that I was hoping to get out of the course.

Although my opinion is far from set as of yet I truly think I’m starting to realize some of the reasons why I have such a strong attachment to Edmonton. (p.s. sorry the post is so long. In all fairness I did say that the prompt was one hell of a loaded question!).  

The Hill

Even though this week we’re free to rant about anything we choose I’m actually quite drawn to the fallback prompt: if you could write about anywhere in Edmonton, what would you write about? The instinct is to write about what you know, namely your neighborhood, your workplace, your favorite haunt, etc. Strangely enough for myself the place that comes to mind when I think about my Edmonton is not really actually much of a place at all: Gallagher Park.

During 4 (now potentially 5) days in August Gallagher Park becomes its own community as people come from all over the city for Folk Fest. Anyone who knows me is aware that during 4 days the world outside of “the hill” ceases to exist. Festivals are of great abundance here but this festival has taken on a life of its own. You get to know the people you wait in line with, forming lifelong relationships, many of which exist only for the duration of the festival. My family that seems only to see each other in passing these days always makes sure we’re together sharing plates of green onion cakes and elephant ears (sugar laden euphoria!). It has this ability to bring people together.

A huddle of people in the brisk morning air, breath visible, eagerly awaiting the local

kids to come around selling muffins and coffee.

Music of all varieties travelling through the air from all directions.

The sound of feet scurrying along the plastic walkways.

The refreshing scent of fresh rainfall on the grass.

A hill of a thousand tiny flickering lights.

And the view of downtown Edmonton, with the sun setting behind the buildings. You just can’t top it.

I have lived in the same community all of my life, and yet I feel more at home in our makeshift community of music lovers. The people of the city come together and transform the hillside into something amazing. I’m a firm believer that a place is only as good as the people that occupy it, and folk fest is a prime example.