Reports of Nathan Phillips’s death have been greatly exagerated

Again on Saturday, after checking on the Spadina Thimble and meandering back east through the Queen West cardigan sweater district, I saw a commotion in Nathan Phillips Square. It seemed like a giant happy protest. Hundreds of people were surrounding the ice rink, watching a couple hundred more skate in a wide chaotic circle, lit by a few brightly coloured intellibeams (part of the Cavalcade of Lights) and by the pot lights under the arches, as if the spans rain light down onto the ice.

The amount of people out and about — some passing through, some lingering, some renting skates, some posing with the big tree, some doing weird things — was magical. Like an urban and modern Currier and Ives picture. It really did feel like it was Toronto’s living room. The square was also sort of dark in places, as much of it is just lit by the coloured lights. So many public spaces have such harsh lighting, it was good to feel in the dark a bit, and made it feel even more magical — yet another way Nathan Phillips treats people like they’re smart.

I forgot all about Xavier de Richemont’s projections onto old city hall until they started the show. They run for 15 minutes half past each hour. That the dark and rusted colours of Old City Hall could become such a great canvass means there are some serious video projectors being used here. The show was well timed: the skate-police blew their whistles and cleared the ice for the Zamboni. There were so many people, they had a hard time fitting on the rubber sidewalk, and kids were routinely falling onto the ice (none were consumed by the Zamboni). One angry Skate-Cop (really just a kid in an orange vest) had such trouble keeping kids from sneaking back on the ice, he started yelling “I can ban you from the rink!”

The music was sort of Massive Attackish — with big Prog-Rock guitar riffs echoing off of the surrounding buildings (the Europeans love their Prog guitars) — and it got everybody’s attention. It was neat to see so many people turn and face the same direction at once. The show began with invisible giant pieces of chalk tracing Old City Hall’s lines. People made “oooooooo” sounds.

Then more formal colouring later on. Such detail — every part of the facade was mapped, even the clock tower.

Then weeds and demons strangled the building. Angry demon faces. The Europeans love their gargoyle-looking things.

But they froze and turned to ice, which cracked, timed perfectly with loud cracking sounds. Old City Hall is broke! Children cried.

Then chunks of ice fell off, one by one, with the remaining few melting down — big drops of water sliding down the building — to a huge puddle along Bay Street, drowning the oblivious traffic that crawled along.

Between Nuit Blanche and this, the City of Toronto is on a roll with big public events that are beautiful, not dumb, and yet still appeal to a wide audience. Bravo.

Nathan Phillips Square is made for this sort of thing, and it works.

When the show finished, just as the Zamboni was pulling off the ice, a pack of 40 dirty Burning Man Santa’s stormed the ice as part of their nightlong cheerful rampage through the city. On such a wonderful night, it was easy to forgive the modern-primative hippy estacy excesses of the Burning Man kids. In Toronto — and Nathan Phillips Square — there is room for everybody.