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C A N N O P Y

Art is True North

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Hubs & Huddles column of Cannopy Magazine, which focuses on multi-purpose performance centres
Ensemble column, which highlights classical artists and ensen, which highlights classical artists and ensembles
Ellington column, which features jazz vocalists and instrumentalists
Studio Sessions column, which focuses on in-depth artist profiles — particularly visual artists in their creative spaces
Materials column, which focuses on artists working across various creative media; Profiling Various Creative Media
Spaces column, which highlights galleries anSpaces column, which highlights galleries and exhibit venuesd exhibit venues
Fourth Wall column, which focuses on the global theatre industry
 In Motion column, which focuses on the global dance industry
In Focus column, which highlights the global film industry
Alt.itude column, which focuses on global alternative music
Homegrown column, which highlights Canadian alternative music
Arts & Letters column, which focuses on essays, opinions, and ideas related to the arts

Toe Fish

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Art by Toe Fish

INTERVIEW ─ On ​​the struggle to create in a city that can’t afford its artists

Words by Anusha Bansal

ISSUE 16 | TORONTO | STUDIO SESSION

Artists congregating in big cities to pursue their craft is a tale as old as time. There is an undeniable magnetic draw to cities like Toronto. So many of us dream of moving to a big city, whether it’s for personal artistic endeavours or simply for the proximity to culture. During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, there was an exodus of artists, and while some have returned, the cultural landscape has shifted. Métis artist, muralist, and woodworker Toe Fish (Joshua LeClerc) is one such artist: he left Toronto for the great outdoors of British Columbia, but has now returned. 


Leaving, for him and many like him, was driven largely by financial considerations as well as by the desire to be closer to family and nature. Life away from cities is more affordable, though the trade-offs are considerable. Living costs are lower, but opportunities can be fewer. People flock to big cities because of the wealth of art, interesting experiences, and exposure to culture. Paradoxically, the cost of living ends up pushing out the people who endow the city with its cultural and artistic capital. Costs aside, living in an urban hub is just plain difficult. The endless hustle — even when the bustle feels absent ─ brings constant overstimulation. So why do we willingly put ourselves in the line of fire? Why do we romanticize living on top of each other? 


Toe Fish (Joshua LeClerc)
Toe Fish (Joshua LeClerc)

I can’t help comparing the way LeClerc speaks about his work to the fabric of Toronto. He’s known for painting on unorthodox materials like plywood and concrete. He remarks that “deviations in the surface” spur spontaneous creativity beyond what he could’ve planned on a blank, pristine canvas. His work brings out a serendipitous dialogue between painter and material. You can see it in the contrast between bold, bright painted forms and the raw, weathered surfaces beneath. The character-laden slab of wood peeking through white paint brings the piece to life. At once, that discarded board-turned-canvas gains a second life. The layering, the deviations, the added marks that alter and reshape an existing surface—this, too, reflects what makes a metropolis compelling. 


Mural by Toe Fish
Mural by Toe Fish

By its nature, living in a city means we’re never isolated within a silo. We are always reacting to our surroundings, driven in different directions by external forces. Those who are drawn to urban life are, by nature, in constant conversation with the city itself. From a love-hate relationship with public transportation to discussing the latest stage production, or being inspired to order fish because of a mural that caught your eye, a place affects you and you affect it. It’s even more pronounced in a city where layers of people and histories overlap endlessly. In that context, artistry becomes uniquely powerful. 


Once embedded within the thrum, the question becomes how to slow down in a place that thrives on speed. While being surrounded by people, community, and culture can be inspiring, sometimes it’s the quiet that sparks new ideas. Perhaps this was also the allure behind the exodus of artists? It’s far easier to catch your breath in a smaller town with sprawling greenery, literally and figuratively. In cities, you have to carve out that space for yourself. LeClerc’s efforts to find this space are reflected in his work, whether it’s vivid flowers bursting up or happy clouds floating across a scene. The warmth and whimsy of his work invite you to stop and explore the different colours and characters. Creation or admiration, art requires us to slow down. The public murals by Toe Fish only enrich the patina of Toronto, giving people a reason to pause and smile. 


Art by Toe Fish
Art by Toe Fish

Five years after the start of the pandemic, Toronto is not the same city. We are also not the same people. It’s a narrative mirrored across major cities. Economically and culturally, Toronto isn’t quite where it stood pre-pandemic when it comes to creative industries. Nevertheless, you can still find and build community. We are entering a new era of creative communities. As artists navigate the way forward, it’s people like LeClerc and his commitment to place and, more importantly, to people, that will revive the metropolitan spirit.


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CREATIVE EXODUS

What motivated this initial decision to leave Toronto during the pandemic, and the desire to return?

TF ─ My initial decision to leave Toronto was largely due to my partner and I discussing the financial liabilities of staying, as we both worked in the service industry to subsidize our art practices. Going back to British Columbia to reconnect with family also influenced our decision but we maintained the intention of coming back to Toronto in a few years. The pull to return indefinitely was largely due to the mural opportunities that Toronto provides, especially through laneways, where you can work with independent homeowners on creative projects without always having to go through an organized program. The financial viability of this plan is possible because we have a two-income home. I’ve been able to balance this by taking time to appreciate, study and sketch the flora and fauna of the city as well as finding time to enjoy the pockets of the city where nature can really thrive, like the Don valley and Humber River. 


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How would you compare the artistic communities in Toronto pre-and-post pandemic? 

TF ─ The artist communities that I’ve been around seem to be still flourishing post pandemic and I feel I’ve come back to a scene that is still welcoming and full of opportunities. What I’ve noticed in Toronto recently is that artist studio spaces have declined. The loss of beautiful arts buildings like 888 Dupont have definitely weighed on me. The continued presence of the Dundas arts building, still standing and hosting live/work spaces for artists, gives me hope. Yet I long to see new spaces of that calibre emerge as others are demolished for redevelopment.



Read the full interview with Toe Fish – and discover over 30 other artists and organizations – in Issue 16.


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