Bob did not win.
He did not take first place.
He did not take second.
He did not even take third.
Bob received… an Honourable Mention.
And for his series on Brutalized Toronto.
This year Bob entered the camera club competition with something different. No sunsets. No ducks. No soft-focus flowers. No cozy St. Lawrence Market Christmas lights.
Instead, he brought concrete.
He brought steel.
He brought torn-down brick and exposed beams.
He brought the underbelly of Toronto.
The judges stared at the photos.
One image showed a brick building ripped open, its skeleton exposed — steel beams holding up what used to be offices, maybe apartments, maybe someone’s life. Windows gone. Walls peeled back. Modern glass condos rising smugly behind it.
Another showed the old LCBO storefront boarded and fenced, snow piled dirty in front like a forgotten memory.
Another was the underpass — raw concrete ribs arching overhead, scarred, patched, water-stained. The road wet. No pedestrians. Just silence and structural fatigue.
Bob titled the series:
“Brutalise: Toronto in Transition.”
Some members of the Bob Camera Club whispered.
“Is that even photography?”
“It looks unfinished.”
“It’s depressing.”
Bob smiled.
Because that was the point.
Toronto isn’t just cranes and ribbon cuttings. It’s demolition dust. It’s temporary fencing. It’s structural braces holding history upright for just a little longer. It’s the moment before the glass goes up.
Bob sees beauty in what others call ugly.
When the awards were announced, the winning images were safe:
• A swan at sunrise.
• A lighthouse at golden hour.
• A macro of frost on a leaf.
Then came the Honourable Mentions.
“And for capturing the raw urban transformation of Toronto with strong lines and compelling geometry…”
Bob’s name.
Polite applause.
Bob walked up, accepted the certificate, and thought:
Honourable Mention?
Good.
Because brutalism isn’t supposed to win popularity contests.
Bob doesn’t photograph pretty Toronto.
He photographs honest Toronto.
He photographs:
• Buildings mid-surgery.
• Concrete with scars.
• Steel holding memories together.
• Roads under bridges that feel like cathedrals of infrastructure.
He photographs the city as it is — not as it markets itself.
Later that night, Bob looked at his Flickr feed — thousands of images documenting Toronto changing brick by brick.
He realized something.
Awards are nice.
But history is better.
In ten years, when those condos are finished and the fences are gone, Bob’s Honourable Mention photos will show what stood there before.
That’s not second place.
That’s documentation.
And Bob, the so-called street photographer extraordinaire of Toronto, is just fine with that.
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