Bruce McDonald



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I met Bruce in local hangout called ‘Il Gatto Nero’ where I indulge in a morning ritual of a strong latté with a mind expanding book. Bruce seemed to be a fixture there, holding court with the Who’s Who of the Toronto film industry. It seemed inevitable that we would eventually end up speaking. After all I’ve nearly sat in on a few of his production meetings by virtue of the magnetic wall of tables that seems to attract all the film people. I was intrigued by his quiet demeanour and how he could command a table of twelve without ever raising his voice, utterly secure in his disheveled urban cowboy chic ways. He is the personification of the power of a whisper.  I knew I had to make a portrait of this man. His face held the promise that there was more to this persona than what my eyes could perceive. Bruce did not disappoint. He was such an extraordinary subject.

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