Article: John Kasyn - A Visual Artist and Historian
John Kasyn - A Visual Artist and Historian
We are honoured to present a renewed look at the life and work of John Kasyn (1926–2008), an artist whose paintings have become some of the most beloved visual records of Toronto’s architectural past. Often called “Toronto’s most famous unknown artist,” Kasyn quietly created one of the most significant visual archives of working-class neighbourhoods in the city. His paintings preserve a Toronto that has largely disappeared—from the back lanes of Cabbagetown to the quiet streets of Kensington Market and the modest houses north of Queen Street.
A Visual Historian of Winter
Above Image: Red House on Major Street, 36" × 28" [Sold]
Kasyn had an uncompromising relationship with winter. As he famously said, “Winter is my time. The sky changes fast... The leaves are down, so there’s nothing to hide the peaks of the houses.” He avoided bright, sunny scenes, believing that snow and cloud revealed a truer portrait of Toronto’s architecture. The humour, dignity, and quiet personality of a house emerged most clearly to him against a winter sky.
From Poland to Toronto
Born in Poland in 1926, Kasyn immigrated to Winnipeg at age 11 and moved to Toronto as a teenager. He worked at National Furs on Spadina Avenue, sewing mink and beaver jackets before studying at the Ontario College of Art in the 1940s. There, he trained under celebrated instructors such as F. S. Challener, George Pepper, R. W. Murphy, and Jock MacDonald.
By the early 1950s, he left a well-paying job in the fur business—trading $125 a week for $35 a week—to pursue commercial art and, eventually, painting full-time. He credited his wife Stephanie, a schoolteacher, with giving him the stability and courage to follow his passion. In time, he became a member of the Ontario Society of Artists and the Canadian Society of Painters in Watercolour.
Documenting a Vanishing City
Above Image: Before Demolition, Bleecker St, 14" × 10" [Sold]
Kasyn never painted outdoors. Instead, he walked the city with a Kodak camera, building a personal archive of more than 6,000 slides throughout the 1960s, 70s, and 80s. These photographs became the foundation of his life’s work. He sought out the overlooked corners of Toronto—lean-tos, broken fences, clotheslines, garbage cans, narrow yards, and snow-buried back lanes. In his words, “People don’t live in the fronts of their houses. The back lanes are more interesting—that’s where life happens.”
His documentation was not always welcomed. In working-class neighbourhoods like Cabbagetown and Shuter Street, residents occasionally confronted him, suspicious of anyone photographing their homes. Some thought he was with immigration services; others believed he was from Welfare. A police officer once followed and questioned him, assuming he was "up to no good." These moments underscored the vulnerability of the neighbourhoods he was trying to preserve.
One of his most vivid memories came from Bleecker Street: “The crane with the wrecking ball was right there. I took photos as fast as I could while the houses were still standing.” Hours later, the street had changed forever.
Neighbourhoods That Defined a City
Kasyn’s work forms an irreplaceable record of Toronto’s working-class neighbourhoods—especially those reshaped by redevelopment. He painted:
- Cabbagetown – before its Victorian revival in the 1970s
- Kensington Market – with its distinctive architectural patchwork
- Parkdale and Sunnyside – before major zoning changes
- Hazelton Avenue and the Annex – modest homes long before becoming upscale
- McCaul Street – north of Queen, once lined with humble brick semis and rooming houses
Each lane, porch, and roofline carries a story—not of grand architecture, but of everyday resilience and lived experience. He celebrated the uncelebrated.
A Legacy That Endures
Kasyn sold more than 4,000 paintings during his lifetime, often faster than he could create them. His works entered major private and corporate collections, and continue to perform strongly in the secondary market. Yet he famously downplayed his own importance:
“Nothing exciting happened during my art career. I didn’t need any splash. I was never written about. Yet I sold everything I painted.”
Today, his paintings are treasured not just as artworks, but as historical documents—quiet, faithful records of a Toronto that no longer exists. He was, in every sense, a visual historian of the everyday.
Explore John Kasyn’s Collection
We invite you to explore our collection of Kasyn’s work. Whether you are a longtime admirer or newly discovering his art, these paintings offer a meaningful connection to the city’s past and to the people and places that shaped it.
Information in this article draws from the Toronto Star, City of Toronto Archives, private correspondence held by the West End Gallery, and personal notes and recollections associated with the artist.