In the fall of 1994, when an ambitious dream of a new local magazine was being hashed out by a room of creatives around a boardroom table, Calgary was a very different place. The city was still more than 50,000 people shy of cracking the 800,000 population mark. Times were tough economically, and Ralph Klein’s conservative government’s cost-cutting measures were reverberating throughout the province.
Yet, for some of us here, the city held much promise.
A couple of young upstart entrepreneurs, Victor Choy and Paul Vickers, had joined longtime restaurant impresario Witold Twardowski in laying the foundations for becoming the future kings of the Calgary restaurant and club scene, while upscale dining destinations like Dario Berloni’s Teatro and Sal Howell’s three-year-old River Café were raising the bar. On the entertainment scene, local songstress Jann Arden was making big waves with her second album, Living Under June, and we were cheering on local boys Bruce McCulloch and Mark McKinney, whose Kids in the Hall comedy troupe had taken the country by storm with its new sketch-format show on CBC.
We also had our own edgy homegrown theatre troupe, One Yellow Rabbit. Formed back in 1981, by 1994 its members were a staple on the city’s cultural scene, stretching boundaries and audiences’ imaginations with such groundbreaking productions as Ilsa, Queen of the Nazi Love Camp.
It’s not surprising, then, that Avenue would feature three of One Yellow Rabbit’s principals on its debut cover. After all, these fearlessly talented — and notorious — artists embodied the upstart magazine’s promise to celebrate the city and what made it unique. Avenue was born out of Cityscope, a publication owned by Flemming Nielsen, then-owner of the Plaza Theatre. In early 1994, Nielsen had announced he was putting the decades-old magazine up for sale.
In the fall of that year, Cityscope sales manager Dan Bowman decided to jump ship amidst the confusion and unknown, and he convinced his experienced editorial team — editor Valerie Berenyi, art director Anders Knudsen and graphic designer Denise Saunders — to join him in his vision of an entirely new, Calgary-centric magazine. (Like Cityscope, this magazine would have theatre listings, but those of the Uptown Theatre.)
Berenyi, a talented and experienced writer and editor, wanted a more behind-the-scenes role on this new project, so she recommended one of her regular freelance writers — yours truly. For an editorship that today would involve a regional or even cross-country competition, a nod from a trusted source was all that was needed for me to get the job. That was the kind of city Calgary was back then (lucky for me).
With Berenyi teaching me the ropes of being an editor and two talented visual creatives, Knudsen and Saunders, we began to hammer out what Avenue, and its departments, with their road-worthy names like Detours, Intersections, and Diversions, would be.
Our early issues focused on everything from skateboard culture and the popularity of billiards bars, to Calgary’s unhoused population and the issue of serious young offenders. In 1996, when Avenue was named Best New Magazine in the country — beating out launches from much bigger cities with much more established media sectors — it was the start of decades of awards for the little city-magazine-that-could.
For this wannabe writer and editor, it was also the start of a career the likes of which I could only dream about back then. My three-and-a-bit years at Avenue were exciting, challenging and fulfilling. When I moved on, handing the editorial reins back to my mentor, Berenyi, it was to the Calgary Herald. (Berenyi joined me at the Herald a couple years later.)
To be honest, back in 1998, I gauged that the shoestring publication I had worked at had maybe another couple of years of life left in it — not anticipating that RedPoint Media, owner of the former Calgary Magazine, would bring Avenue into its fold in 2003. The move injected new resources and energy into the magazine, resulting at times in issues surpassing 200 pages. Quite a jump from the 24-page inaugural issue we put out.
It was my work at Avenue, my editors at the Herald told me, that landed me the job there, one that, over the next two decades, would have me meeting Queen Elizabeth II and travelling the world chasing stories — or, in the case of 9-11, unexpectedly finding myself in the middle of a story while on location for another one.
So, in a sense, I have Avenue to thank for the career I was able to build, and to build here in Calgary. I was only one part of a magical team of journalists and sales people that was unbridled in its passion for the city, for storytelling, and for promoting the great work of a talented pool of local writers, photographers and illustrators.
And, I must add, led by its first publisher, Bowman, who took a hands-off approach to working with his creative editorial team, letting us soar (and sometimes fall on our faces). We were nothing if not audacious, and we were fortunate to have been based out of a city where our audacity and ambition wouldn’t be tamped down by a media establishment entrenched in a gatekeeper mindset. If that’s not a Calgary story, then I don’t know what is.
So, as Avenue magazine celebrates its Pearl anniversary, this loyal alum, longtime reader and fan will raise a toast to its ongoing success with fondness, appreciation and gratitude for all it offered me, and so many other Calgarians — and to its continued celebration of our city and its citizens.