I need to go to Wales

To see the beautiful Cathays Library redesign (Cathays is a Carnegie, opened in 1907. The symmetry of the exterior is especially lovely).

Until then, I will have to content myself with these stunning photos of it (seen via Designing Libraries).

Renovated Cumberland Branch

I was fortunate enough to benefit from Cumberland's closure during the past few months, in that the "library-less" Cumberland library staff were taken in by many other library branches. We welcomed Rebekah and Marthe at Rideau's Information desk, and they were wonderfully helpful and I miss them already.

That being said, I am thrilled that their library is now open, and looks so spectacular. Join me on a virtual tour...

The adult department reading area.

The computer lab (art, as at Rideau, from the city art vaults; this one is called "Smoke signals")


The archway to the Children's department (I love it!)

Early literacy stations, to promote the six pre-literacy skills.

Looking out to the garden.

I'm sad to say I never saw Cumberland pre-renos (hey! it's far!) but it does look lovely now, and I am told it is much more open and airy. Some of the computer terminals are on a curve, so not everything is on a straight line, which is very refreshingly different. Little internal windows between children's and teens also make the space feel more breathable.

Plus, you know, purple carpet tiles and door and window frames will always win me over.

Thanks to the two Cs for accompanying me on this trip!

Goldman Sachs + Battery Park

... a match made in heaven? You know, this is like those bad marriages, after which people say, "Well, I'm grateful for the children...." I'm grateful for the library.

Revolt against minimalist library architecture?

Martha Nichols on the Cambridge main library reno: "I now find most of the rich clutter I love online rather than in a building like this."

Image source: Cambridge Public Library

New Bodleian reno

I'm sorry, but this artistic rendering depicts the same old fairly uninspiring and frankly kind of ugly building. I'm all for saving facades, but couldn't they have done something with the "well-equipped swimming bath," as described by Jan Morris in 1965?

It may be state-of-the-art preservation, but it certainly doesn't make the heart sing.

More photos here.

Library wanderings in Toronto

(now with more bookstores!)

Another RA meeting, another chance to explore TPL renos. This past weekend, we visited the Bloor/Gladstone Branch of TPL, which re-opened in July of last year after closing in 2006 for a renovation and expansion. This branch, one of TPL's oldest (opened in 1913 as Dovercourt, a much better name in my opinion...!), nearly doubled in size with the addition of a large modern glass block on the west side. Also, to improve accessibility, the inner and outer staircases were removed and patrons now enter on the lowest level of the library.

I quite liked the marriage of old and new; I am a total sucker for those old buildings that keep the formerly outer wall intact (see also: TPL's Yorkville Branch). I think they did a magnificent job in the lobby, and the 2nd floor landing, where you can stand and look down into the renovated lobby, is a highlight (a 7 yr old was soaking up the view while we visited). I also quite liked the placement of holds (in an alcove with community and library info - photo here). I liked that the former was stored in a binder - this is something I am doing at St Laurent: the valuable poster space on the wall is for library programs first and foremost! The only thing I didn't like about where the holds were was that you didn't have to pass any collections (well, some display cubes, but that's all) on the way; in my mind, that's like grocery stores putting the milk at the entrance: why waste an opportunity to make people walk through your location?

The branch also featured a listening station in the teen section, which was cool. Um, about the teen section. Have a look at this photo I took. I think some good ideas backfired a bit: the addition of the TV has turned the area into a .... loitering spot for non-teens, let's just say. I caught a strong whiff of alcohol while I was setting up the photo. Which is a pity. Don't get me wrong - I am glad that people are in the library, and happy to welcome anyone, no questions asked, but I think that an area specifically designed for teens should be safe for teens. I recently read on the YALSA blog that NYPL Teen Central spaces are reserved for teen use only; if staff see an adult sitting there, he/she will be asked to move. Pretty hard-core, but then, not entirely a bad idea. I would prefer signage or something, rather than having to police the area (but then I say that because my teen zone is behind me, with a glass wall in between us).

The branch also featured a great use of LCD projector: projecting historical photos as well as current information above the Newcomer information desk (photo here). The architectural firm involved in the reno also has some lovely photos of the renovation here.

The other library I visited was the Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library at the University of Toronto. I've been to Robarts many a time, mostly for the U of T FIS job fairs, but never quite made it to the other tower.

Recently, I discovered that a good friend of mine worked researched there as a student, and I was inspired to really make the effort to visit (despite the - ahem - restrictive opening hours, which I completely understand, but are nonetheless annoying if you're me).

We didn't roam through the collection, which is vast and impressive. We instead took in the current exhibit, which was "Caterpillars and Cathedrals: The etchings of Wenceslaus Hollar," which was lovely in its minutiae. What was also lovely to behold was that a library could so deftly overcome its Brutalist shell to be quite beautiful in the end.

Sidebar: TFRBL has Gwendolyn MacEwen's papers, and I am a big fan of novelist and poet MacEwen, once a rival to Atwood, now largely unknown outside CanLit circles. MacEwen is perhaps best known for her poem, "Dark pines under water", from 1972's The Shadow Maker, which was voted by LRC as one of Canada's most memorable poems:

This land like a mirror turns you inward
And you become a forest in a furtive lake;
The dark pines of your mind reach downward,
You dream in the green of your time,
Your memory is a row of sinking pines.

Explorer, you tell yourself this is not what you came for
Although it is good here, and green;
You had meant to move with a kind of largeness,
You had planned a heavy grace, an anguished dream.

But the dark pines of your mind dip deeper
And you are sinking, sinking, sleeper
In an elementary world;
There is something down there and you want it told.

So, I was more than thrilled to see the bust of MacEwen at TFRBL, and to have a short conversation about her with the library staff member who greeted us.

While on campus, we also visited the Hart House Library (best. ceiling. ever.), which reminded me distinctly of the Birks Reading Room (it could simply have been because of the creaky floors), spent far, far too long in the U of T bookstore, and came serendipitously upon a Toronto Legacy Project plaque for Robertson Davies (since you probably can't read that, it says "The novelist Robertson Davies, 1913-1995) lived here from 1963-1981 as the first master of Massey College").

Travels with Alex in British libraries, Part 4: London, Day 3

In which a kind gentleman helps Alex find William Blake, we visit the old publishing 'hood of Paternoster Row, we find commonalities between the library at the National Research Council of Canada and the London Library, and we learn that "bookstore categories" for non-fiction collections isn't a new idea....
(with brief interruptions for the second fire alarm of the trip and, oh yes, theft!).

This day was my day alone in London. Kris and I parted ways for the moment, so I could meet up with the lovely Colette, a dear friend from high school now studying in Plymouth. Well, now it's Dr. Mesher, actually, since she graduated days after this visit! There is something exciting about exploring a city on your own, and I reveled in my hour before I went to meet Colette at Paddington (dear Colette deserves a giant shout-out for taking the train up to London. For the day. From Plymouth. Four days before she defended her viva. Seriously).

I secretly wanted to squeeze in a tour of Shakespeare's Globe that morning, but I thought it might be too tight. I felt badly that the day before, we'd been a stone's throw away in Southwark, at the Tate, without even laying eyes on the theatre. What kind of a daughter/niece was I? At the very least, I figured I could see it, even if the tour was a stretch, time-wise. So off I went, southwards, and quickly discovered that, um, yes, I wouldn't be making that tour...

Oh, look, it's the Globe!

Oh, look! Hordes of schoolchildren!

If there's one thing I have learned from Stratford, Ontario, it's that being in a crowd of 15-year olds can really ruin a good Shakespearean moment (Merchant, 2005, Care and me...).

The new, improved, Zen-like me sighed, dusted herself off, and decided to simply walk across the Millenium Bridge and see what caught her fancy over there. Oh, St Paul's, I forgot about you....

Thus did William Blake and I get introduced. I nipped into the Cathedral (I am pleased to announce the only revolving door I am friends with: great quote, and suitably solemn!) and just sort of breathed it all in. I'm usually good at situating myself, but I got hopelessly lost in the crypt looking for Blake. A dapper older man striding purposefully through on his way somewhere probably less crypt-like observed, "You look like you're looking for something," to which I replied, "I'm looking for Blake" (now, how often do you get to say that?) Off we went (he's in the OBE section, in case that helps you), and I hung out with him for a bit before mercifully coming above ground again (that crypt is a bit stuffy).

Up into Paternoster Square, formerly Paternoster Row (destroyed in the Blitz). Paul Collins talks about this neighbourhood magnificently in The Book of William, painting this picture of booksellers, swindlers and clergy rubbing elbows, with errand boys carrying fresh cuts of meat taking the short way past the Cathedral (which was, actually, through the Cathedral!) He also talks of the Great Fire, and how booksellers, confident St Paul's wouldn't burn, stuffing their wares into the hollows of the crypt. Of course, St Paul's went up (blame Wren, actually), and countless quartos with it. One bookseller, according to Collins, was able to read a book he'd pocketed while fleeing, by the light of the fire alone. I elected for a steamy cup of coffee instead, and then off again to the tube to pick up Colette.

She and I visited the Imperial War Museum, and again, not library-related, but they did an excellent job of exhibiting common, everyday objects to tell a story. Thanks to Megan and Mathieu for the suggestion to visit. We were enthralled by a home-made life vest made by a child's mother for his Atlantic crossing (fleeing the Blitz). The mother instructed her son to wear the vest AT ALL TIMES, even at night; he was told to never take it off. The ship was torpedoed, and few children survived, but he did. Colette and I were having a great time, banging our heads on reconstructed Anderson Shelters, until the fire alarm went off. (Fire alarm #1, by the way, was moments before Kielan and Kate's wedding). What kind of luck did I have on this trip? Actually, don't answer that.

None the worse for wear after 45 minutes out on the street, I made my way back to Paddington, parted ways with Colette, re-united with Kris, and decided to conquer the London Library, the world's largest independent library, as my final library-themed pilgrimage of the trip. Thanks to Diana, this time, for the tip to visit.

The London Library is honestly a hidden gem, tucked into rowhouses in St. James' Square (I got a few good pics, as at right, but check out some great ones on their website here; not to mention wonderful historical photos here). The lovely Suzanne, from the Reference desk, led Kris and I on a tour of the library, which is entering Phase 2 of an $8m remodelling project. I first read about the library here, and then a colleague mentioned I simply must visit it.

Part of the reason for the remodel is that the London Library never withdraws anything; as the website says, "It is a central tenet of the Library that, as books are never entirely superseded, and therefore never redundant, the collections should not be weeded of material merely because it is old, idiosyncratic or unfashionable: except in the case of exact duplication, almost nothing has ever been discarded from the Library's shelves." Imagine the backlist of periodicals! Imagine the historical children's picture books! Another policy is that the collection is almost entirely circulating; 95% of it goes out, actually. Imagine, for a minute, driving yourself nuts looking for a science textbook from the 1950s. Not being a student or faculty member at the university, you can't access their collections. You can, however, join the London Library and borrow General physics : a textbook for colleges by Oswald Blackwood, published in 1943.

The London Library was founded by Thomas Carlyle in 1841; members included Thackeray Dickens, Darwin, Conan Doyle, Sassoon, Churchill, Christie, Sackville-West, Amis, Chatwin and ... Forster! T. S. Eliot was its president for 13 years, starting in 1952. In fact, his widow, Valerie, has donated $2.5m to the current remodelling project, and there is an Eliot Room now.

A few of my observations:

• As you can see at right above, the London Library shares a feature with the National Research Council library on Sussex in Ottawa: see-through floors! In Ottawa they are glazed glass (too many lecherous scientists looking up skirts); in the London Library, they are a kind of grate.
  
• The library has its own (we would say, "bookstore style") shelf mark and shelving system. I explained to Suzanne that many North American public libraries are eagerly adopting similar systems and that the London Library was, thus, trendsetting (albeit unknowingly)! An example from the above PDF: "In History, for example, the shelving sequence begins with H. Abyssinia and runs through all the sub-categories in strict alphabetical order, to end with H. Zululand. In Art, the sequence begins with A. Aesthetics and ends with A. Woodcarving."
• The majority of the London Library's collections are in the humanities; the Art Room grows at a rate of 68 feet/year! The library also has material in more than 50 languages.
• Deep breath: there are no fines. In fact, "books on loan are only requested for return to the library when they are wanted by another member." Oh, and they have a postal loans service, which means they will "despatch" (I had to. It doesn't come up much) "books and periodical volumes to members anywhere within Europe, for no more than the cost of the postage."
• Upon reading the pamphlet I came home with, I was almost moved to tears by this quote from John McNally: "The London Library is a dream of an institution; slim and elegant on the outside, labyrinthine within. It is the stuff of fiction, the gentleperson's Google."
• From same pamphlet, I have discovered I missed the Heron Allen Collection of the Rubdiyat of Omar Khayyam. Curses!
  

Can I just say, the members of the London Library are surely kindred spirits, because one of them begins his inscription in the suggestion book with "Three cheers for..." ("all the changes," in case you're wondering, but he goes on to lament the removal of the green chesterfield outside the Prevost room). That would be a passing Forster reference. Can I just move in, please? I'll sleep under the newspaper shelves.

We left the London Library for a short snack at Caffè Nero, and, well, you know how that ended. I tried to think of Helen Mirren's Prime Suspect, and Sherlock Holmes striding through the streets, while I was stuck in Charing Cross Police Station, just to keep myself from utter desolation, but it was not very effective. What's funny (ha.) is that while crunching through my brie and tomato pannini, I was honestly thinking, what a perfect trip. I can honestly say I saw everything and everyone I wanted to. How utterly content I am!

So there is that.

I can't end on that note, so, to close, a parting shot of the locked-tight library at Canada House (Of course I wanted to ask to get in, and of course I tried the door quite emphatically, but I wasn't sure if they'd stall/shred my temporary passport if I made trouble... eep!):

Signage, paper, and other trvialities

I've been thinking a lot about the somewhat "trivial" aspects of the physical space in a library (this is what happens when you spend too long debating about Ikea chairs...).

I often joke to people that some libraries aspire to an interior design aesthetic that is best described as "Unloved Church Basement, circa 1982." It's like the flip side of maintaining a collection: librarians and paraprofessional staff have only recently managed to swallow the idea of actually weeding the collection. We have yet to even begin to cut into manageable, bite-sized pieces the idea of considering the physical space of the library as a component of our services.

That's a sweeping generalization, of course. The Idea Stores, love them or hate them, at least considered space and design, northern Europeans in general are pretty good at designing cool libraries (more below; also, Shannon, your pics were too good NOT to link to...), Seattle did a wicked job (signage!), as did Vancouver.

Quick sidebar re. the Swedes and libraries: I saw a fascinating presentation at IFLA last year about getting children and young adults involved in developing and designing their space in the library, and is based on Howard Gardner’s educational theories about multiple intelligences. Libraries should play with: words (linguistic intelligence – this one is fairly obvious for us!), pictures (spatial intelligence: colours, materials, structure of the library, windows, furniture, etc.), music (musical intelligence: having a music room, instruments for lending), self-reflection (intrapersonal intelligence: quiet spaces, reading rooms, theatres, fireplaces, sofas), physical experience (bodily-kinaesthetic intelligence: ladders, sofas, climbing walls, skateboard ramps, playground outside), social experience (interpersonal intelligence: group work rooms, café, friendly helpful staff), experience in the natural world (naturalist intelligence: plants, fountains, maps, a nice smell in the library!). Questions to ask in the process include: How can interaction with the library space develop? How can you strengthen language and stimulate the joy of reading with new techniques? How can you develop meaningful participation for children and young people when it comes to developing the library space? The project organized focus groups with children and incorporated their drawings and 3D models into renovation plans. The web site for the project acts as a resource for other librarians interested in the project.

Whoo, sidetracked. Sorry.

Maybe, upon reflection, it's the smaller branch libraries that concern me. And smaller things: not even furniture, or carpeting, or windows, but non-permanent signage (i.e. not the signs affixed to the wall that point out the washrooms, but the small posters advertizing your branch's programs, for example), display space, flyers, pamphlets, bulletin boards...

Here's where I'm coming from. At Westmount, most of the staff were pretty aware of the little things. We also had a hawk-eyed senior management team who would tear down posters they didn't like, scour the bulletin board for expired notices, and chose everything from the program notice boards to the plastic baskets patrons can use to pile up on books with infinite care (some might call this micromanaging!)...

When I started working at another library, I was appalled at the standard of ... um, cleanliness? Tidiness? I developed this theory that the way the physical space of a library is designed, and maintained (or not - garbage on the floor, grafitti in the study carrels, ignored for days...) influences the way patrons act in the space. I'm not saying we all have to be as intimidating as possible when designing spaces (something I think Westmount was, in fact, guilty of, when it designed its high service counters - how unfriendly and unergonomic!). I'm just saying that keeping the library in good shape on a daily basis has to be everyone's responsibility, or else it becomes no one's. One of my previous bosses used to do a walking tour of her branch every morning - what a great way to stay on top of things.

Some smaller infractions I have been guilty of or have observed in my day that are totally unnecessary:

• A suggestion box with the X in box ripped off.


• Handwritten signage - seriously, dude, use a computer!


• Grafitti up for more than 48 hours.


• So many pamphlets at the Reference desk that you can't see the staff person.


• So many book trucks of work-related material pulled up beside the Reference desk that you can't see the staff person.


• Now that I think of it, any book truck storage in public spaces.


• Notices for summer programs in the community still up in October. Bonus points for also having the "expired" flyers or booklets, too!


• Cluttered public workspaces (seriously, is it SO HARD to put your crap away?)


• Dusty things.


• Dead plants (fills me with such confidence about your dedication to serving actual humans).


• Things used for purposes other than that which God intended them: cardboard boxes as storage for toys out in a public area, signs held up using a metal bookend and a plastic page protector, old milk cartons as storage for plastic bags for patrons, Kleenex boxes full of crayons, etc.

You're wondering where all this hostility is coming from, aren't you? I know we're public libraries, and we're poor and all that, but we need to have some self-respect, or we can't really expect our patrons to have any respect for us, can we?

And signage. God, I could write a whole other post on signage alone. First of all, no one reads signs, right? This became all too clear when people pulled on the door of Rideau Branch every day we were closed, despite the sign on the door (directly above the door handle) saying CLOSED. Especially in the children's department: some of our patrons can't read! Plus, we have new Canadians, and the elderly who can't see very well anymore, and so on. I've started using pictograms in my signs: covers of famous picture books in the pic book section, giant dinosaurs in the 567.91s, and so on. Why aren't more of us doing this? It astounds me. We talk ourselves blue in the face about welcoming people to the library, do outreach, entertain school groups, provide readers' advisory services, answer the phones, and do myriad other things - why aren't we paying attention to "smaller" things like signage as a part of the same philosophy of accessibility?

On a related topic, what do you think about this presentation about empathetic signage? On the one hand, I can hear my husband saying, "Why do we need to encourage people to be empathetic? Shouldn't they BE empathetic already?" On the other hand, I appreciate the light touch of humour. We spend too much time being totally obvious, and stultifying, when we make signs.

In praise of smaller branches + teen zone ideas....

I try to visit as many of our libraries as I can. I think my count to date is 21 out of 33 (never been on either of the bookmobiles, either, alas). My current obsessions are Elmvale Acres and Emerald Plaza, which, for some reason (two words, first word starts with E?) keep getting mixed up in my head. Both are what we call "Community 2" branches, so mid-size (like Rideau), but they both have quite high circ of children's materials.

Today, I had some errands in the Elmvale area, so I stopped by Elmvale Acres branch. Here's the exterior:



EA is all on one level. I love, love, love branches like Rideau where you can see all the action from the Info Desk. I really miss that here at SL - there's a wall between me and circ. I can hear them, but I can't see them. Grr. Anyway, I also like the paint colours (very reminiscent of Cliffcrest Branch of TPL, both in paint colour choices and in geographical location - both are in strip malls). The librarian at Elmvale, Courtney, has been doing an amazing job recently amping up the programming at the branch for all ages: from Babytime, to job finding workshops, to high school groups. We had a stimulating discussion, and I was thrilled I serendipitously caught her on a morning she was working so I could get a personal tour. She's hard at work on her teen zone, which we are at SL also, so it was good to compare notes. We also are on the same page in terms of how we think about OPL's three urban, "Community 2" branches (Elmvale, Rideau, and Rosemount), and we shared some thoughts about outreach strategies, underserved populations, and stuff.

All this made me think, perhaps I should share with you my ideas for the teen zone at SL. First of all, here's how it looks now, which is in and of itself an improvement on a few months ago. We removed one bay of shelves (via a giant backshifting project) and the paperback spinners (as my faithful readers know, I was quite pleased to see the end of those vile things).



We have our Wii console (man, that's a whole other post...) but haven't purchased the games yet. Our launch should be in Sept, so I'm anxious to get this place tricked out before that. Time and $ are of the essence!

Have you ever noticed that our carpet is HIDEOUS? Also, it's very hard to match anything with it, probably because it's so loud already. It amazes me that a grey carpet can still be so loud. My cell phone photo also doesn't capture the truly nasty pink flecks in the pattern - think "newborn baby pig" colour. Yes, I'm really selling you on it, aren't I? Anyway, I looked high and low for something that wouldn't compete too much with it, and ended up liking my colleague, Shannon's, suggestion best:


(It's from EQ3)

Re. chairs, I'm thinking Ikea, so this weekend is roadtrip time to the local store to check out the pickings. I've got my eye on this one:


(Karlstad)

I love Ikea (shamelessly. I know it's cheap, but they have quirky stuff, lovely unbeatable wooden toys, and delicious chocolate galettes. Not to mention meatballs.)

Anyway, those are just ideas for now until we figure out what our budget is. I also need some magazine shelving - can you see our current pathetic (and somewhat dangerous) metal shelving stand? At the end of the bay of stacks? It wrecks all the magazines as you try desperately to shove them into the little grooves. Gah.

So I'm off to work on that, and some back-to-school planning for class visits. Gotta work out my strategy this year. I'm thinking, skip the snail-mail letters and move to e-mails and phone calls? Plus I have to prep my speech tomorrow to shiny new library technicians about readers' advisory, and start reading for the class I am going to be teaching at Algonquin. Eeeek.

Currently reading: Bog child, by Siobhan Dowd. Just finished How I became a famous novelist, which was wonderful, in a cynical kind of way.

Farewell, spinners!

Yes, today is the day. Farewell, ugly, dusty, dangerous, wobbly monstrosities of plastic and metal, full of books out of order and spilling off the edges. Farewell to saying, "Actually, there are *two places* to look for that type of book: Hardcovers and paperbacks!" (Ya, 'cause that makes sense). Farewell, farewell!

... Don't come back!

Librophiliac Love Letter: A Compendium of Beautiful Libraries

I somehow missed this (old) link... Thanks to TEV for reminding me.

Scroll, scroll, scroll. It's worth it. The Biblioteca Di Bella Arti in Milan is now my desktop.

Queens Library: 2009 Library of the Year!

Queens Library was named the 2009 Library of the Year by Library Journal and Gale this week. Winning libraries are awarded a $10,000 prize. Says LJ Editor-in-Chief, Francine Fialkoff,"We hope this award is a good-luck talisman to Queens," referring to recent (proposed) budget cuts.

Weekend scribbles

Did I mention I took a (hard-earned) break last week? In case I didn't let me just say it was the *best idea I have ever had.* First of all, I always come back from conferences exhausted. As I was discussing with Lina, there is something about those buildings conferences are in (and it's not just conference centres; no building is immune. Even when we had the ABQLA conference at the University Club, it was lovely but still left me drained) that sucks the brain right out of you by the end of the event. Maybe it's the ventilation; maybe it's the general lack of natural light (OK, so the Palais was a notable exception, and MTCC isn't bad); maybe it's the lack of decent food and coffee within a 5K radius. I could go on.

In any case, I always come home drained. Then, of course, like many of you, I'm sure, I slink back into work, lugging endless pages of notes, photos, books, pamphlets, brochures, and sometimes stuffed monkeys, to face a duel with the literal and metaphorical inbox (or in tray. *The best times* are when you have both, as I do). Endless stacks of books and notes from staff, as well as a groaning inbox: you have exceeded your mailbox limit.... The world stops for no one, least of all unimportant little me (I don't mean to suggest that all this stacked up work inflates my sense of self-importance, because, trust me, it stopped doing that when I was a new grad. Now it just makes me want to weep softly and run).

This time, brilliant young woman that I am, I looked at my schedule ahead of time (this in itself is, sadly, revolutionary. All too often when people ask me what I'm doing next week/month, I reply, "Not there yet!" As though not turning the pages in my agenda will make it go away). I said to myself, now, look here. You've been spending much of May just simply trying to breathe. You will be done in from CLA (volunteering, pub crawling, presenting, socialising!) and then you have that OPLA RA Committee meeting in Toronto the following Friday. Take three measly days off.

So I did. I blogged my notes from the conference, which should make that conference report for work easier, I rested, I made notes for the OPLA meeting (but on the balcony, while eating and drinking and sunning myself), I went for nice walks, and I just relaxed. The end.

Now, on to what happened in Toronto. Fun stuff, like hanging out at the Library Bar with The Husband, the OPLA RA meeting (those lovely ladies - and one gentleman - remind me why I am in this profession, re-charge my energy, and send me away with numerous book recommendations - this time, the latter included many suggestions for my homeschoolers' book club, The Believers by Zoe Heller, and The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yoko Ogawa, as well as a tip to check this out, and also to visit S. Walter Stewart Branch... see below!). More fun stuff: snippets of shopping (shopping makes me very cranky in general, but some opportunities are not to be missed), and, of course, if it's Alex in Toronto, it must be TPL time! How long do you think it will take me to visit all 99 branches?


We came across the Davenport Branch serendipitously (interior at right), on our way to something else. N.B.: This is the total length of the branch! One service point, needless to say! Behind me as I was taking this picture are shelves with holds (reserved items), a small children's reading area, and bathrooms. At the front is the magazine/study area, looking out on the street. Quite an interesting little sliver of a branch. Excellent use of space, but can you imagine being the one staff member? I assume they have a person on who can answer basic reference, but it's likely a lot of circ. And lonely. Sniff. When I got back to the car, The Husband was like, done already?


Next up is Wychwood Branch (adult area pictured at left). I have had this branch on my list (yes, there is a list. The geekiness knows no bounds) for almost a year. It's my friend Laura's home branch from her childhood and youth, and a Carnegie, to boot. I had previously visited one of the other triplets, Beaches Branch. I took the picture at left of Wychwood from the tiny study space on the third floor, which is more like a loft, really. To the extreme right of this picture, and one floor down from where I am, is a second-floor extension, seamlessly melded into the branch, with the old exterior windows framed on the connecting wall, and where my friend Laura always looked for a place at a window to sit as a child! Altogether charming. Great roof.


Last but not least, S. Walter Stewart Branch (interior at right): Sigh. Oh, the lead to this story is going to be forever linked in my head to this branch, which is unfortunate, as the branch is lovely. I got a kick out of the navigational signs around the perimeter of the ceiling. The branch has a very open and airy feeling, with the stacks out like spokes from the central hub. Full disclosure: some nutbar cut us off in her giant SUV while we were driving to S. Walter Stewart, gave us the finger, AND racially slurred us, so I was not in a sunny mood when we arrived. Hence only one interior photo. I was like, library, great, fan-freaking-tastic, pretty, get me outta here. I didn't even notice the KidsStop, which made me utterly disconsolate when I got home. Next time! There will have to be an S. Walter, part 2 entry.

Now, like it or not, I am tackling that inbox. I hereby resolve to kick its butt.

Rideau Branch re-opens!

My home branch (and workplace, when not on term replacement at St-Laurent) re-opened yesterday after a 5-month closure and renovation.

We had a ribbon-cutting ceremony at 9 am, with local politicians, media and library staff and board of directors present. Our oldest patron, 106 yrs old (she was at the branch opening in 1934), cut the ribbon with a 4-year old from a local nursery school (a moment I found oddly moving - I teared up!) and everyone enjoyed refreshments and checked out the new layout, furniture and art.


Notice how the circulation desk is no longer a barrier when you walk in the door; instead, the contrasting carpet creates a welcoming path inviting you inwards.

A reporter from Radio-Canada asked me what the best part of the day was, and I was somewhat surprised to find myself saying that it was seeing and hearing patrons' reactions. I'm not naturally really outgoing, so I don't make friends with lots of patrons (although we're generally all on good terms) and I think while Rideau was closed, I had genuinely missed the community: the daily visitors, the regulars, the families, the seniors from the residence next door. It was truly rewarding (especially after so much hard work deciding on elements of the re-design) to see them enter and exclaim over individual changes with excitement and wonder.



I'm at Rideau Branch again today, filling in, and that feeling of wonder is still in the air. What a wonderful thing! It's the best outcome that I think any of us working on the reno could have possibly hoped for.

Here are some more before and after shots!


The OPACs and Internet computers




Old photo: reading corner (moved to annex); new photo: circ desk


The annex, with new magazine shelving, reading chairs with tablets, and That Snake Art Piece. The quote above the snake is from the Latin Vulgate, "Your prophets have seen for you false & deceptive visions."


This is my favourite piece of art (all art is new since reno, and from City art vault).

Armchair library traveler

Check out The European Library Web Exhibition of the architecture of the great national libraries of Europe. This collection of over 300 photos and postcard (the latter coming from the collection of Sjoerd Koopman, who I had the pleasure of meeting at IFLA in Quebec City last year) are magnificent.

My only *minor* complaint is the fact that the photos open up in a window-on-window set-up, which is really annoying. You have to open and close each one individually.

Nevertheless, enjoy!

TPL-filled weekend!

Yup, I had a TPL-filled weekend. I usually try to visit a few branches of the Toronto Public Library when I'm in town (gotta make a dent in 99, you know!), and this time, it was well worth the schlepping around town. Here's a summary, with links to TPL info and my Flickr pics along the way.

I first made my way to the Annette Branch (a Carnegie library), based solely on the fact that someone who attended my recent OLA talk worked there. Annette Branch is a lovely, traditional Carnegie branch, opened in 1909, and it bears many similarities to my library... or, it, ahem, will, once mine gets its major facelift. Annette Branch boasts lovely dental moulding on the ceiling, an intriguing Edison phonograph, and a cozy periodicals area. Not to mention, I got a personalised tour, as it turned out my friend from OLA was working (ah, public libraries... always making us work Saturdays...).

Based on this friend's recommendation, I next made my way to the Dufferin/St. Clair Branch, which has several unique features. First off, it has breath-taking murals by G. A. Reid and Doris McCarthy, painted between 1925 and 1932 and recently restored (they had been painted over in 1964, which is criminal!) Hats off also to Makrimichalos Cugini Architects for a lovely renovation, including two little wings off either side of the branch, acting as glassed-in reading rooms. I love it when we smaller branches make the absolute most of the limited space we have! That's thinking, kids! (Sorry, no wings pics since I didn't want to risk my life in the middle of the street). The gorgeous dark wood stacks inside the Adults area, moreover, are perfectly in keeping with the elegance of the branch (made the husband very happy, too - he's a tough critic when it comes to wood finishes, and, let's admit it, libraries usually cheap out on this and it's very visible...), and the muted colour scheme lets the murals shine through.

Now, the pièce de résistance: the KidsStop. I just about died with sheer excitement at the sight of it. I had heard that TPL was building these interactive early literacy spaces to re-inforce pre-literacy skills taught in library programming (TPL uses Ready for Reading; we at OPL use ALA's Every Child Ready to Read). Nothing prepares you for seeing the space, though. It was, by far, the absolute best library experience that my husband (not a librarian!) and I have ever had. We both walked out of it in awe. I'll start from the beginning.

So, you're in the Children's Department (terribly dark photo here). Pretty kickass on its own, I might say, with mirrors on the edge of each row and lovely natural light pouring in. If you're me, you immediately spot the dragon from The Paper Bag Princess on the wall, and exclaim about it. A random mum nearby overheard me (apparently I left my "library voice" at home that day) and says, "Wait until you go inside." Me: "Inside where?" "Over there," she replies, pointing underneath the dragon where wooden beams are cut to look like tree branches forming an archway.

Under the archway you go, looking up to see a ceiling of stars. You come out (pleased as punch, if you're me!) in a small, separate room, filled with picture books and various toys and games. Everything is in the same polished wood, painted in places, naturally stained in others. Another Martchenko dragon fills the centre of the room, carrying books on his back. One wall is mostly taken up by the castle for play-acting, bookended by pit stops for narrative skills and print awareness. Other stops for letter knowledge and print motivation caught my eye (who could not be motivated on a throne?), as did the colourful home for the Dial-a-story phone. Just past the dragon's backside (sorry, but it's true) were more pre-literacy games at baby's eye level (one of my favourites was the spin-a-story thingamajig) and a toy book return bin (every budding librarian's dream!).

I think TPL did a fabulous job with this branch. I can't say enough about it.

After all that, I must say my first visit (I know - that's just sad) to the Toronto Reference Library was anticlimactic. It is quite something, what with the collections in many languages and all that (Finnish included!) and the various special collections (we peered into the Arthur Conan Doyle Collection room). I did have the palpable feeling that I was in an important space, and I reminded myself of authors and intellectuals who have hung out here, doing research, even if the fraying carpeting on the staircase walls (who carpets walls?) was doing its best to kill my mood. I must end on a positive note, though, to assuage my own conscience if nothing else: I really like the Foundation's recent poster campaign. You can read the stories featured on the posters here.

That was enough for one day. We retired to a pub for dinner.

Just in case you think I'm a total geek who goes to different cities exclusively to check out libraries (I suppose that's not far off, though...), I was there for a work-related purpose. And I did do other stuff, I swear!

Meanwhile, I came home exhausted and managed to somehow make myself ill again. Charming.

It was worth it for that dragon, though.