THE KEEPERS
FROM JUNE/JULY 2021 ISSUE OF WEST END PHOENIX
DAVID OFORI ZAPPAROLI
Reflections of Toronto from the archives of Black photographers
For as long as I can remember I have been interested in images and archives. Growing up with my mother, aunt and brother, all records of our extended family were kept in brass-ringed albums. These albums became important signifiers for me. They would have travelled from the Caribbean to New York and across Toronto with my mother and aunts. The images would have had to be tended to; someone had to know that they would serve a purpose beyond themselves. In that way, these archives, this priceless documentation of families and communities, are just as much of a means to say “we have been here” as they are the product of a series of decisions. Someone had to decide to see something, to document it and attend to it; someone had to care.
Black sight seers of Toronto have been doing this work for a long time. As photographers, filmmakers, writers and artists, they have skillfully visualized and documented Black life, scenes and communities in ways that are still absent from most public records. Those who do this work are often seen as staples at events like Afrofest, city town halls, Caribana or Blockorama; they are memory keepers of political actions across the decades; they have noted and charted as major cultural institutions come, shift and go; and though seldom recognized, they hold a critical role in the city.
The three photographers in this series, C.J. Cromwell, David Ofori Zapparoli and Kalmplex, are part of that tradition. Collectively, with hundreds of thousands of photographs and archives spanning decades, they help us see the stories of Black people in Toronto that maintain the complexity, nuance and diversity that are part of the Afro-diasporic experience.
KALMPLEX
The image of Kalmplex holding a camera is in itself a Toronto icon. Rarely, if ever, seen without a lens, Kalmplex has been photographing and filming nightlife, the music scene, and arts and cultural events in Toronto for more than 15 years. Much of Kalmplex’s work has been documenting concerts where we see the rise of Toronto DJs and MCs next to visual artists and theatre workers. As a fixture in live music halls, Kalmplex has gained access to VIP, backstage and one-on-one moments with many touring and rising local artists, making Kalmplex’s archive of mini DVs, Hi8mm tapes, SD cards, hard drives, vimeo and YouTube clips unmatched.
“I’ve always had a camera since I was a kid. It’s part of my artistic practice, like drawing, painting and being out there in the world. I’ve basically been documenting arts and culture in Toronto for pretty much 20 years, probably more. I’ve documented where I’ve been, places I’ve seen and not just documenting who we are, but everything. Because I’ve been in various scenes from DJing to throwing parties to working at health food stores, I’m known around the city – I’ve got a wall with my face on it [near Queen and John] because of my work in documentation. From an early age, I knew I was special and needed to document what was going on with my life. My writing isn’t the best, so I was like, if I journal I’m not going to be able to read this journal, so let me just walk around with a camera.
Personally I love art, I love colours and I love capturing moments. I understand how historically our stories haven’t been told by us, as they’ve been told by other people who tend to lie about what’s been going on or the contributions we have made, so documenting for myself has always been important.”
The Yonge Street location of Play De Record was an important fixture in the development of Toronto’s music scene and a pit stop for any serious music fan visiting the city. DJs could find vinyl and music across any genre that was difficult to source elsewhere. Says Kalmplex, “New releases came out on Thursdays and I’d spend many hours listening and digging through the crates. Props to Eugene, Donna and the whole Play De Record crew for holding it down for so many years.”
Black community members, along with a handful of local community-based organizations, protest against police violence on May 18, 1990, after a Metro police officer shot Black teenager Marlon Neal at a routine traffic stop in Scarborough.
DAVID OFORI ZAPPAROLI
Influenced by photojournalist Gordon Parks, David Ofori Zapparoli has been capturing Toronto as a documentary photographer since the early 1980s. His images, both keenly captivating and distinctive, began with a practice of photographing everyday happenings in Regent Park, where he spent 10 years on a project documenting the quotidian events of the community, pre-revitalization. In similar fashion, he pointed his camera towards social movements, rallies and the unexpected, contributing importantly to the range of ways we can visualize Toronto.
“My interest in photography began in the 1980s when I started doing my own darkroom work. I was using the Toronto Public Library – the Parliament Street branch – to explore the process.
I don’t know how much I thought about it being an actual career. But I knew that I wanted to study photography in a more formal setting. I was in the program at Ryerson for two years and didn’t see any practitioners who looked like me. I just felt like the whole milieu around me was very middle-class, white, and I was living in Regent Park so I wasn’t relating to it on some level. That led me to take a year away from the course before returning to finish my undergraduate degree.
I found out about this photojournalist called Gordon Parks. I picked up his book To Smile in Autumn, and that was the book that kind of changed things for me. Seeing his work really egged me on as far as thinking, maybe I can find a place for myself within that era of real beginners of the 35-millimeter documentary photographers.
Amongst that group of documentary photographers there were people like Alfred Eisenstaedt, who always considered themselves amateur photographers that happened to work for a publication – in Eisenstaedt’s case that publication was LIFE magazine. Many of them took the same approach: They had assignments, but they knew what to look for and knew what they wanted. And that’s always been my approach. I’ve been the amateur out there with a camera looking for the extraordinary in the ordinary. I think the images are always out there, regardless of where you live. If you look hard enough you’re going to find brilliant imagery. It’s already there for you.”
C.J. CROMWELL
As a photographer, C.J. Cromwell melds a documentary and commercial photography practice into a way of archiving the growth and changes of individuals, families, organizations, small businesses and social movements among Black Torontonians. His meticulously organized archive has more than half a million photos of moments ranging from the first public consultation about the Afro-centric school and the call for reparations from Black student associations to Black business launches, community symposiums, church events and funeral processions.
“I primarily serve members of the Black community with my commercial work, but even if I’m covering a book launch, performance or family event, to me the significance is not just a commercial transaction. Being Black has a huge impact on how I see, experience and share the world around me, so while my photography is personal and professional, it is also always political. It’s like I’m documenting history. There is a sense of responsibility whether I’m being paid for it or doing it for free. I take it seriously because of the sense of responsibility that comes with creating a record or preserving memories.
Since I am also part of the actual community, it’s been really beautiful to be able to watch the community evolve. Time has elapsed during my venture with photography, giving me the ability to watch people grow and to see families form different relationships through different phases. I believe that we are part of a living legacy, and any image I’m taking now is going to bear record and resonance to future conversations. What I do is very intentional. I’ve taken all this time to organize these archives and it’s not done. There is a lot of work behind the scenes, going through hard drive after hard drive and keeping up-to-date with cataloguing software. Some people would think it’s crazy and ask, ‘Why you be spending all this time preserving somebody’s art show from seven years ago?’ But it’s about a calling. It’s not just about being behind a camera. It’s about cherishing our legacy. The work of advocacy is very close to the work of art, which is close to the work of entrepreneurship.”
Community members make their voices heard during a meeting at TDSB headquarters where the discussion on Black Focused Schools was unexpectedly removed from the agenda.