Last update: August 16, 2023
In August of 1979, I left Vancouver (for the second time) and moved to Halifax, enrolling in the BFA program at the Nova Scotia College of Art & Design, or "NSCAD".
It was an exhausting 5-day rail trip across Canada, mostly because I could only afford the cheapest coach-fare seats, which proved impossible for me to sleep in.
Except for the Rockies, and the pleasant times spent with MV, (a woman working on the train between Vancouver and Winnipeg), it was an extremely tedious journey.
I had already made the Vancouver-Halifax trip by rail, in both directions, with my parents back in the late '60s, so multi-day cross-country train travel was no longer a novelty for me.
I made an overnight stopover in Montreal, finally getting a good night's sleep at a youth hostel. The next day, I visited my old CBC friend Gerri Barrer, and her husband Michael, before getting back on a train for Nova Scotia.
After arriving in Halifax I spent several nights at the YMCA while completing my registration at NSCAD and looking for a place to live.
The Attic
Contacting a listing pinned to the NSCAD bulletin board, I rented a third-floor, attic apartment at 1267 Hollis, directly across the street from "Gingers", the (in)famous pub with occasional live (and noisy) entertainment.
1267 Hollis Street & my view of the "Ginger's" sign. Google street view & ink/wash drawing
I picked up the two trunks (shipped from Vancouver) that were waiting for me at the Halifax train station, dragged up an old mattress* I found in the empty lot next door, and began to settle into my new home, and new life as an "art-college student".
*Yes. A mattress found in an empty lot. I cleaned it thoroughly, sprayed it for "pests", and slept comfortably on it during my whole stay in Halifax.
Attic apartment interiors. Ink and pencil drawings
It was time to re-invent myself, and the first thing I did was get "the short haircut".
Self Portrait 1979: Color pencil
NSCAD
Located in "far-flung" Halifax, NSCAD had surprisingly close ties with the New York and international art worlds, especially in the areas of post-minimalist and conceptual art.
The art college was a unique creative environment occupying a block-long collection of heritage buildings that had been skillfully combined and restored.
The instructors were accomplished artists and/or respected experts in their fields, and the facilities were state-of-the-art.
For a good overview of the heady days of NSCAD, (1960's and 1970's), check-out Garry Neill Kennedy’s book, The Last Art College.
I was fortunate to have attended NSCAD during its prime, (the tail-end of it, anyway). But, let's be honest. I had, and still have, mixed feelings about conceptual art.
And, I'd never heard of "post-minimalism" before writing these pages. I included it here only after reading how NSCAD had, "... become the epicenter of art education - and to a large extent of the post-minimalist and conceptual art world itself... ".
I never thought of my own work as being part of any movement or "ism". For me, "making art" was more of a personal, intuitive process.
But, I could appreciate the (supposedly) "big thinking" about art always taking place at NSCAD, and welcomed any of it rubbing off on me.
Credits from the 2-year diploma program I took at VCC Langara from 1973-75 were transferable, and I entered NSCAD's 4-year BFA program as a 3rd-year student.
My courses included: Art History, Print-Making (lithography and intaglio), 16mm Film Animation, Photography, Drawing, and Ceramics.
I immersed myself in "school", and life soon revolved around classes.
It was a strange, new experience for me to want to be in "school", and I was surprised to find myself so intensely focused in class and "devouring" the lessons and other content presented by the instructors.
I loved it!
Even so, I soon found my attention being divided.
Diversions
Thanks to TK's sister, Lulu, I became involved with the Atlantic Film-Makers Co-op, or "AFCOOP", and was soon working (volunteering) as "continuity and script" on a short, 16mm movie shooting in Halifax.
AFCOOP was located in a multi-story, loft-like building on Barrington Street, which was also home to Doomsday Studios, an independent film-production company owned by Ramona Macdonald, one of the founding members of AFCOOP.
Doomsday had a high-end 16mm animation camera/stand setup and, thanks to Ramona, I would use this, instead of the animation camera/stand at NSCAD, to create my animated short film "Perspectives".
More about Doomsday Studios will be posted here.
More about Perspectives will be posted here.
Besides keeping busy with all my NSCAD course assignments, I also spent long hours in my third-floor attic working on Perspectives, or at Doomsday Studios filming animation tests and occasionally filling-in as camera operator, or freelancing as a graphics designer at CBC Halifax to earn some much-needed extra cash.
Operating Doomsday's animation camera & stand
During a meeting with Ron Shuebrook, my NSCAD academic advisor, I was cautioned about "burning the candle at both ends."
Relatives
My father was from South West Margaree on Cape Breton Island, so I had numerous aunts, uncles, and cousins living relatively 🙂 close-by.
My cousin, Margie, also lived in Halifax, and we often enjoyed spending time together.
Growing up in Vancouver I rarely met any of my father's relatives, who all lived in Nova Scotia, or any of my mother's relatives, who all lived in The Netherlands.
One memorable "family" experience was the time I went on a tear with my cousin Shawn and my Uncle Loyola, (who was 65 at the time). Shawn and I met Uncle Loyola in Antigonish, and the three of us drove up to Cape Breton.
I had no idea what a tear was, but soon learned it meant driving around and dropping-in on relatives and Uncle Loyola's old friends, unannounced, and at any time of day.
South West Margaree, NS "Tear" territory. Google Maps
For example: early one morning we showed up at the home of Pat & Kay Gillis, (no relation). They owned the farm next to where my uncle and father grew up.
Kay's hair was in curlers and she was wearing an old T-shirt as she showed us to the kitchen table. Shawn and I were a little embarrassed and didn't know what to say. And, Uncle Loyola didn't say much either. He just sat there like a lump.
Only after Pat finally arrived with a bottle, plunked it on the middle of the table and poured drinks, did my uncle become chatty and animated, and the visit could "begin".
The tear lasted 2 or 3 days (it's foggy) and included the constant consumption of alcohol.
When I was young, my father used to reminisce about the delicious, crystal-clear waters of "Jim-Angus Creek", "John Archie's Brook", and other natural springs on Cape Breton.
What Uncle Loyola taught us on the tear was those "crystal-clear waters" were prized as a mix for whiskey, rum, and any other hooch they used to drink when they were young.
Friends
In January, TK arrived, (unexpectedly), and we shared my tiny apartment while she attended a Costume Design course at Dalhousie University.
It was a pleasant time, but she returned to Vancouver after completing her course at the end of the Spring semester.
As "Perspectives" neared completion I also spent more time with John S. Gray, the composer of the music and sound track for the film.
We would usually spend Saturday nights at Dalhousie's "Grad House", (John had some kind of "honorary membership" there), where we would drink, watch "Saturday Night Live", and plan future music, film, and gallery performance projects.
Chronicle-Herald
In January of 1980, mostly as a prank, I placed an ad in the “Personals” section of the Halifax Chronicle-Herald.
When I saw it published in the newspaper I had a good laugh, and never imagined anyone could possibly take it seriously.
I received three replies.
The first was from an “older gentleman”, subtly suggesting financial patronage in exchange for physical relations. My interests were not in that direction, so I didn’t respond. (What might I have done if the reply was from an “older lady”?)
The second reply showed some creativity... cut-out strips of text glued onto paper.
The third reply was from "three hard-working members of the better sex" and showed even more creativity... a message typed on toilet paper glued to a section of newspaper.
Wisely, I never contacted any of the respondents.
My New Band
One day, while at Doomsday Studios, Ashley Lohnes came-by and asked me to pose with several of his friends for a photo-class assignment.
He lined us up against a brick wall, took some shots, and that was the last I saw of them.
My New Band Photo: Ashley Lohnes
I sent a copy of the photo to my parents, without any explanation, and simply labelled, "My New Band". They later informed me it had caused them "some worry".
The Professionals
In July of 1980 I travelled to Skagway, Alaska to visit TK, where she was head of "Costumes and Wardrobe" on "Never Cry Wolf", a feature film directed by Carrol Ballard.
During my short time there, I also ended up working on the production, (uncredited), in the editing and props departments.
I was soon in awe of the senior crew members, which included folks from American Zoetrope. Not only were they highly talented and experienced professionals, they were also willing to answer any questions, and happy to share their knowledge.
These were the kind of people I wanted to work with and learn from.
More about Never Cry Wolf will be posted here.
When I returned to Halifax I decided not to continue my BFA studies at NSCAD.
I concentrated on completing "Perspectives" and putting together the solo exhibition, installation, and premiere screening to be held at the Centre for Art Tapes.
I also started preparing for my imminent departure from Halifax.
Perspectives Exhibition/Premiere Centre for Art Tapes
Bad Form
In September of 1980, Ramona Macdonald was unable to attend an exclusive Halifax society party, so she gave me her invitation and I went with my downstairs neighbor, GL.
GL was attending college in Halifax and, being my downstairs neighbor, we saw a lot of each other. Eventually, I came to suspect he had an unhealthy obsession with WWII and nazi ideology.
A classy BYOB bar was set up near the driveway at the front of the main house where guests could drop-off their bottles and be served by well-dressed bartenders. Our cheap-o wine was put on a shelf with the other guest's pricey bottles.
The mansion and grounds were impressive, with dozens (hundreds?) of well-heeled guests milling about. Even though we had an invitation, we were basically shabbily-dressed college students crashing the party, so I tried to keep a very low profile.
However, it wasn't long before I heard a woman calling out, "Floyd Gillis! Floyd Gillis! Is there a Floyd Gillis here?" It was the hostess of the party and, assuming I would be promptly asked to leave, I hesitated identifying myself.
But, when I finally did, she looked relieved and quickly took me inside to a kitchen, explaining there was an important phone call for me.
It was TK, calling from Alaska. Something serious had come up and she had been calling everyone she knew in Halifax trying to find me.
It was an intense call, with each of us shedding tears, and I was soon slouched on the kitchen floor, with guests stepping over me while holding their drinks and hor d'oeuvres.
After the call, I thanked the hostess, and left the party with GL. On our way out we stopped by the bar and asked to take our bottle with us.
The bartender hesitated a moment, then asked which bottle was ours. Thinking quickly, GL pointed to and named a particularly expensive brand of cognac. The bartender gave it to us, and we walked away.
We were about 20 yards up the driveway when we heard someone running after us shouting, "Gentlemen! Gentlemen!". It was the bartender wanting a better explanation of why we were taking the bottle.
We told him we were poor college students and the cognac was a rare and expensive purchase for us and we couldn't afford to just leave it behind, still mostly full.
He shook his head and admonished us with, "Bad form, gentlemen. Bad form", before turning and heading back down the driveway.
We kept the bottle.
Many years later, it became a routine family joke with my (grown-up) kids, and I still occasionally "scold" them with, "Bad form. Bad form".
Time To Go
Finally, in September of 1980, after tying-up all the remaining loose-ends I had in Halifax, I moved back to Vancouver to work on feature films.
My "new life" in Halifax as an art-college student at NSCAD had come to an end after only 13 months, but it was just what I needed to put my life on a new course
Other major influences during my time in Nova Scotia were Doomsday Studios, the Atlantic Filmmakers Co-op, the Centre for Art Tapes, and the many cousins, aunts, and uncles who provided that sense of extended family I never experienced in Vancouver.
Together, all these things brought about some of the personal changes I was hoping for.
Thank you NSCAD. Thank you Halifax.
I would return, briefly, to Halifax in June of '81 and July of '82 for live music/animation performances at the Centre for Art Tapes, together with John S. Gray. And, in October of '81 for "One Zero Base Two", a solo exhibition held at Ramona Macdonald's, "The Public Gallery".
