Technically, a more complete description is “a fusion of art, sauna culture, and sweat bathing” as expressed by the event’s co-curators, Rui Pimenta and Layne Hinton, founders of the Toronto-based organization known as Art Spin.
At first, it felt odd going down to Harbourfront Centre for my two hour slot with little more than a robe, a towel, swim trunks, flip flops, and some water. But it all felt right as soon as I stepped into the main building of the temporary sauna village. The agitation of traffic downtown quickly vanished with the greetings of friendly staff and an introduction, by artist Chris Foster, to the six sweat bathing and relaxation structures there. Everyone I met, I might add, pronounced the word “sauna” with an *ow* not an *awe*. This felt like validation.
With introductions complete, a small group of sweat bathers were let loose to get changed, heat up, cool down, and heat up again repeatedly. The first stop was Garmabeh, a medium heat structure created by the studio called SHEEEP. A sharp contrast to towering condos and the CN Tower behind, this rich terra-cotta coloured building immediately catches one’s attention, even if building up from the lowest level of heat to the highest might be wiser.
Immediately, I was taken by the light coming down from a skylight to the blue tiles of the interior. There was a citrusy fragrance, added to the water by one of the visitors. In fact, visitors added different oils to the sauna water at three points during my visit; but even the luxurious steam alone was enjoyable. Providing the heat was a Harvia electric stove—and though mentioning an electric sauna stove might fill some Estonians with despair, one wouldn’t be able to deny that the space was instantly relaxing.
It was eye-opening to learn about sweat bathing beyond the Nordic traditions that I grew up with. As Art Spin writes, “Garmabeh references ancient Iranian bath houses that were an important social setting for centuries prior to the introduction of piped water. It is inspired by intricate geometrical patterns and the four main temperaments of traditional Iranian medicine: hot, cold, dry and wet.”
Being here also revealed a key difference between Public Sweat and many other sweat bathing experiences—there’s quite a bit more talking. From Garmabeh in the very beginning to Chris Foster’s trailer sauna at the end, conversation abounded. As one visitor engaged in an Aufguss-style towel twirling action, we whooped and complimented him for the waves of heat sent around. We joked about the dirty looks you get when pouring too much water on the hot stones. And over two hours, all participants got to know each other better.
Next up was an Almost Heaven wood-burning barrel sauna called #VOLCANO LOV3R, arranged by the visual art collective FASTWÜRMS. The temperature was much higher here. Although the thermometer by the door only read 60 degrees Celsius, it really must have been a lot higher close to the stove. Visitors were noticeably giddy on account of the steam. And so it makes sense how FASTWÜRMS “[conflates] the elements of heat, steam, as well as the sweat… with the eruptive force and procreative power of the volcano.”
That being said, saun is not all about blasting yourself with steam. It’s also about the pauses in between. Occasionally, one would hear yelps from people dousing themselves with a perpetually re-filling bucket of water. All around, visitors enjoyed the cool air, sat by a fire pit, and laid down in the dedicated relaxation greenhouse, titled A Caress Before Dawn. Created by multidisciplinary artist Rihab Essayh, this was the perfect spot to reset in between rounds of heat. Inside the greenhouse, lightly covered in fabric, are pillows that cradle your neck and head, gentle music, and the sound of birds. Essayh’s pursuit of “radical softness”, empathy, belonging, and care is something we can all appreciate, especially after a hectic day.
Speaking of the artists commissioned to design these structures, be sure to take in not only the therapeutic benefits of each sauna, but their aesthetic qualities. Each space is a tangible expression of an artist’s personal relationship to sweat bathing.
In Abandoned Splendour, Simone Jones joined together the grim form of an industrial wood burner with a video inside of a dimly lit chandelier and a sound installation by Mitchell Akiyama. While sprawled out on the warm granite floor of Christie Pearson’s Geospheric Sweatbath, you may be surprised at the calm you feel even with the sporadic roar of a plane taking off or landing at Billy Bishop Airport. According to Art Spin, this structure is “heated like you would find in an ancient Roman bathhouse, yet it has a milder temperature akin to a Korean jimjilbang…”
Capping off the sweat sessions was a visit to Chris Foster’s Mobile Sweat. According to Rui Pimenta and Layne Hinton of Art Spin, Foster was part of the initial inspiration for Public Sweat “[running] a series of small community events in a sauna that he built years ago called ‘Sauna Sundays’…” Foster also advised the artists on technical matters.
Mobile Sweat was by far the hottest structure of them all. The utility trailer with a wood-burning stove climbed to 90 degrees Celsius. At this point, my heart was pounding pretty hard and the series of videos playing on the embedded video screen felt more and more surreal.
The occasional influx of one particular large group of friends did alter the ambience of sweat bathing at times, but there is a positive takeaway here. The zeal of this group—dropping western red cedar oil into the water, wearing sauna hats, and playing a tiny flute— and the popularity of this event shows how sweat bathing traditions from around the world are becoming more widely celebrated in big cities like Toronto.
When organizations are willing, as Art Spin has been for the last 13 years, to “present art in unexpected and alternative spaces…”, strangers become our friends. Rituals are shared.
When it’s all over and you sit in the indoor lounge, eating a flavoured pickle and listening to a DJ play ambient soundscapes, there’s a lasting feeling that anything is possible. And with that, there’s a feeling that saunas can bring us together as people.
*****
Public Sweat will be running until Sunday April 30th, with ticket prices ranging from $25 to $35. Learn more about the event and book your ticket at publicsweat.com .
