What a night at the magawards

Magazines Week, culminated splendidly on Friday night, as it does every year now, with the always splashy and enjoyable National Magazine Awards. (The list of all the winners can best be seen here.) The magawards has just completed its 29th year and did it in fine style again at the Carlu in Toronto.

• There was some truly excellent work shown this year and some laudable wins, such as the gold to Spacing magazine for Best Editorial Package*. This is one night when you realise the breadth and depth of this industry, when you see work you haven't had an opportunity to see. There was a good mix of perennial talent and new, young and exciting writers, illustrators and photographers.
  
• It was a pleasure to see the late Bill Cameron's article for The Walrus ("Chasing the Crab") on his journey into "Cancerland" win two gold prizes. If there was a dry eye in the house, they are made of sterner stuff than me. Cheryl Hawkes, his wife, made two brief, poised acceptance speeches that did her and Bill credit.
  
• As usual, the audio-visual presentation of the year's best work was the show's highlight (kudos to Wolfson Bell) and it is something that, at the very least, should be made available on DVD for neophytes and students (and some experienced people) to learn what sort of cream rises to the top.
• John Macfarlane made a gracious and impassioned acceptance of the Outstanding Achievement Award, counselling courage and faith in the power of this creative industry. Even he said his "highlight reel" of tributes from various (unidentified) people went on too long ( note to organizers: not everybody works in Toronto and not everybody knows Wendy Dennis or James Chatto on sight.)
• The program this year was the best we've seen in many outings, clear, readable, funny, elegant. High praise to the editors, Cynthia Brouse and Hélène Valois and the writers and designers, Smith, Roberts & Co.
• The attendees from Maclean's were nonplussed, and not to say a little cynical (bitter?), about receiving the President's Medal (what is usually thought of as Magazine of the Year). Perhaps this was so because the presentation seemed so diffident and offhanded. Unlike previous year, there was no buildup and no explanation of why the panel of judges decided that Maclean's deserved the honour. Perhaps this was a glitch in the script. Whatever, for the Maclonians the prize felt like being named "Miss Congeniality" after being shut out of any gold medals in the event.
• There have been good and not so good celebrity hosts over the years; Scott Feschuk is certainly going to go high on the good side of the ledger -- edgy, funny and entertaining and not taking himself very seriously at all.
• The jokes about silver winners being losers are getting very, very tired. And being nominated at all out of such a huge field really is an honour.
  
• Some 15 of the 33 awards were without sponsorship, meaning the Foundation had to find the money from entries and tickets.
  
• As usual, Antonio De Luca, the Art Director of The Walrus, surprised, including making a quixotic plea for magazines to spend money on illustration in order to keep good people from emigrating to New York.
  
• Once again, the finalists for magazine cover were mostly titles that are either controlled or so obscure that they are rarely seen. None of them looked like they even paid lip service to selling at retail, with such fripperies as coverlines. Of course this is why the Newstand Awards sprang up, to take account of such things.
  
• The food was generally good and plentiful.
• There was much talk about the fact that The Walrus, which spent a fortune on entries and got 49 nominations and 14 awards (11 gold and 3 silver), bought four (4) tickets to the event and didn't pay for its nominees' tickets.
  
• It was nice to see Saturday Night receive several awards, as a sort of swan song. Frequent gold medallist Sylvia Fraser spoke for many in the crowd when she said (paraphrasing): "Isn't it nice to hear Saturday Night mentioned so much tonight?"
  
• And, finally, what's with this trend for a quarter of the audience to drift away to the bar and stiff the last half of the awards? Unless it is for a bathroom break, it should be a rule of good conduct that if you had your bum in the chair at the beginning, the least you can do is have it there when the finale is reached. There is lots of time to drink; they won't run out. And the event was run briskly and efficiently, just over two hours. So, don't be so rude, next time.
  

*(Disclosure: I was one of three, first-stage, English judges in this category)