Making Magic

The world's iconic cities have something in common

I’m frequently struck by the disconnect between those lists of the ‘most liveable cities,’ and the places people actually seem drawn to. The lists generally feature inarguable advantages such as safety, good infrastructure and cleanliness. But somehow they never include New York, London, Venice, Florence, Barcelona — places that have to fend off tourists and where residents face insane real estate values.

Because everybody wants to live, visit and just experience these places.

What’s the draw? I think it’s something as simple as magic. These cities, despite the crowding, the costs, the battles with garbage — in New York’s case, the rodents — offer something that is increasingly rare: joy, surprise, energy and engagement, among both citizens and visitors. Everyone wants a piece of what they have!

I’m not sure how to define it but I thought I’d give some examples from my neighbourhood in Toronto. (The city’s central architectural heritage areas are being destroyed by featureless glass towers that could be anywhere, but its historic neighbourhoods are often gems. Let’s hope they stay that way.) What’s intriguing about the magical eruptions in this post is how small they are, and how easy to achieve. I find it reassuring that, with a little fine tuning, imagination and everyday involvement, mostly from residents, almost any neighbourhood can nurture these kinds of surprising and delightful experiences

Meet me by the big blue chicken (above)

A friend recently came to visit, and did not know the street where I lived. Of course, I could have just given her the address. But isn’t it a lot more fun to make a date for a rendezvous near a unique landmark? This marvellous piece of art celebrates the neighbourhood’s history as Little Portugal: these stylized chickens are everywhere, so why not have a huge, crazily painted one?

Why didn’t I see this before?

I walk through the park where this bit of magic is located every single day, no exaggeration, and have been doing so for weeks. But I only spotted this Fangorn-like painting a few days ago (I swear there’s a face in there somewhere), because I decided to sit down in a spot where I usually keep going. Just a turn of the head and this ethereal image of an ancient, leafless tree, its branches transforming the narrow, mundane laneway it overlooks, came into view. (I’ve included the uneven pavement and unattractive barrier to show how even prosaic surroundings can be lifted by skilled and thoughtful art.)

Racoon row

Auh, the humble ringed bandit. Other cities have foxes, possums, gulls. We have racoons. But what a wonderful way to celebrate their looks, cunning and incredible adaptability. This row of three racoon faces was first spotted by a friend as we walked past a rough and ready body shop. I had not noticed it before. At the end of the lines of cars up on hoists, one of these faces, painted on a laneway garage door behind the shop, fixed its stare on passers by along a busy main thoroughfare. I wanted to get the contrast between the cars and the confidently peering face but my camera didn’t seem to be capturing it. So I had to go and investigate. Thankfully. Asking a mechanic about it, he noted, “There are two more, around the corner.”

Once in the lane, another mechanic mentioned that a neighbour had paid to have the three images painted on adjacent garage doors, “To tidy up the lane.”

Magic.