(CLICK IMAGE THUMBNAILS TO ENLARGE)
In 1977, I bought my first 35mm camera – a Canon AT-1, just in time for the golden-moment birth and ensuing melee of what is commonly referred to as punk, in Toronto.
The camera gave a 15-year old — wary of getting busted and thrown out — a reason to be in the front lines. Luckily, the Crash’n'Burn, Hotel Isabella, the Horseshoe, The Turning Point, and David’s back-alley gay disco and other dives turned a blind eye to the underage. Hidden behind my camera, I witnessed the birth of the revolution.
I joined my high school’s camera club to learn how to print, develop and to get free chemicals. At the time I could only make contact sheets and a very limited number of prints. In 2007, I scanned my negatives and saw what I had for the first time. Images were restored, revealing the hidden beauty behind the poor exposures and the scratched, dusty and watermarked negatives.