Editor’s Pick: Sam the Record Man’s iconic signs

The sad saga of the two giant neon signs that topped the old Sam the Record Man location was again given a small update at Torontoist today, and current owner Ryerson University has no plan as to how or where the giant objects will go. They’re huge energy-guzzling fixtures that harken back to a bygone style of street vending, but they do characterize a style of vernacular street advertising that was unique to most cities for decades.

The problem with the signs goes beyond mere size. Apparently it’ll cost $250,000 to restore the pair, which is frankly a modest expense for a university that owns land in and around prime Yonge & Dundas. Whatever noble intentions were in the university’s mind at the time, the urge to preserve has proven to be a minor headache because there is no place to incorporate the vintage signage into the sleek glass Student Centre Media Room, or perhaps any of the new construction, unless the architects can use them as urban artifacts within some unique display.

Outside, they’d be exposed to the same corrosive natural elements that degraded them over the decades, and inside they would blaze trilling neon tubes which would emit both a humming pollutant and provide an irritating visual distraction from whoever’s seated in the vicinity.

Ryerson’s dilemma is also a sampling of facadism, that easy-out developers manage to extract from provincial ruling bodies where a vintage building can be razed to the ground provide some vestige of its facade is retained in the final design – like an arch, boot-scraper, or hardened pigeon poo.

The Sam signage is just too big, too loud for any usage beyond its intent, unless its relocated to some permanent urban park where its spinning lights have some related function – as a beacon where patrons gather for music or media related events. Once they’ve arrived, the signs are dimmed or turned off so the intended concert or media event can unfold without neon distractions.

Regardless of any earnest preservation intentions, Ryerson’s stuck with a lemon (well, two), and their final location has to involve street traffic, because that’s where their illumination and snapping, humming neon tubes belong. Unless the tubes can work with a dimmer switch, any interior placement will likely involve static usage. Perhaps the best solution is to engage a designer to create a low-energy, alternative illumination scheme that evokes the original neon colours and whirring action but is more modest, and creates a stylistic bridge between Ryerson’s modernist plans and two round chunks of local music vending history.

YouTube’s filled with videos that either involve photo montages of Sam’s in its heyday, glimpses of the signs in action, concert material, and brief news reports, so those unfamiliar with its history ought to sample the signage to get an idea as why they’ve become a challenge to the university, and a griping target for fans wanting the most iconic objects from  a once-cherished music strip to be preserved, now that Yong & Dundas Square is stuck with bulky ugly chunks of unimaginative architecture.

 

 

Mark R. Hasan, Editor

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