A True Urban Playground
Alleway Swing
From the National Post, August 7, 2004

Are you a member of the Queen West swingers' club yet?

Some will be relieved, others disappointed to learn this isn't an expose on a new spousal swapmeet. Instead, it's an introduction to a hidden miniature playground only two minutes away from the honking, heaving, urban criss-cross of Queen and Spadina.

For those curious about swinging, stand at the southwest corner of Queen and Spadina. Now walk south along Spadina, past the TD Canada Trust, and turn right at the alley. Yes, into the alley. Don't be nervous. Walk west and admire the colourful and intricate graffiti, courtesy of some of the best spray-can artists in the city.

A little more than halfway between Spadina and Augusta, past McDougall Lane, on the north side of the alley, you will spot a narrow gap between two buildings, a light well guarded by an 12-foot-high black gate. Look carefully through the black bars and you'll see the swing, a suspended chain and rubber seat apparatus fastened to the brick walls on either side. It's a true urban playground and a small but welcome addition to a city that removed similar equipment from Toronto schools only a few years ago.

To enter, you must carefully bend, twist and shimmy through a large gap in the bars. (Before sure to wear sensible shoes: There is some broken glass and garbage strewn about.) Once inside, you will immediately notice the walls are very narrow. And it smells. The whole scene recalls the trash compactor sequence in the first Star Wars movie.

But as soon as you put ass to swing, you're elevated above such petty distractions. And when you're done, be sure to thank Corwyn Lund, the Toronto artist who installed the swing last September for a group show at gallery YYZ.

Lund, who titled the piece Swingsite, also created a short video document of his handiwork, which has screened in Toronto and Chicago and is scheduled to play in Munich this fall. But, as he explains, "I didn't anticipate the way it would have this life beyond the gallery show. I didn't realize what can happen when you do a public art installation." (Indeed, a barrier was installed by an unhappy property owner the night of the YYZ opening, but thanks to some anonymous human gorilla, a few bars of the gate have been bent back to provide access.)

The low-tech swing has recently been given a new life courtesy of the very high-tech medium of the photoblog. Since early June, when numerous pictures of the swing began appearing online, local bloggers have treated the alley curiosity as a kind of photographic scavenger hunt. (As Davin Risk writes on his site, www.lowresolution.com, "I must say that whoever put that swing there is a genius in my eyes and whoever put up the iron gate is officially a curmudgeon.")

Lund's swing might appear to be an anomaly, but it represents one of an increasing number of urban interventions by artists in recent years. Perhaps the most visible example of artists trying to spruce up the gray old lady we call Toronto is the City Beautification Ensemble, who roam around town spraying the ring-and-post bike locks in a rainbow of colours. And for more than 10 years, artist Rocky Dobey has been bolting metal plaques filled with etched sketches and cryptic phrases on to streetpoles throughout the city. (In fact, a small plaque is visible to the left of the gate that guards the swing).

Swinger Lund is delighted with the recent attention from photoblogs, given the secluded location of his work. Still, those interested might want to visit sooner, rather than later. The life expectancy of the swing has always been "precarious" Lund says, since he bolted it to the brick walls with authorization. "I go by every couple of weeks," says Lund, who lives nearby, "just to make sure it's still there."