Daily insights for city builders, delivered every morning at 6 AM ET. I’m Brandon Donnelly — a Toronto-based real estate developer and founder of Globizen. I’ve been writing here since 2013.

Month: July 2020

  • Flats for land

    In Athens, I have a learned, there is something known as antiparochi. The practice took hold in the middle of the 20th century at a time when Athens was in desperate need of new housing. Supposedly during the 1950s, an estimated 560,000 people came to Athens from the countryside in search of opportunity — effectively doubling the population of the city. That was a bit of a problem for a city with no money to build new housing. So something needed to be done. The solution was a ground-up arrangement (i.e. it wasn’t a government initiative) that allowed developers and contractors to increase the supply of new housing without having to ever pay for land. And given the time period in which this took hold, it also spurred quite the modernist building boom, leaving an architectural legacy that to this day continues to define Athens.

    Here’s an explanation of how antiparochi works (taken from this BBC article by Alex Sakalis):

    Here’s how it worked: a contractor would approach the owner of a house and offer him a deal. He would knock down his house, and build a block of flats in its place. In return, the homeowner would be given a certain number of flats (usually two or three), while the contractor would then make his money by selling the remaining flats to Greeks who were seeking accommodation. Generally, no money was exchanged and no contracts were signed.

    What’s so incredible about antiparochi is that it emerged spontaneously out of the housing crisis in Athens. “There was no specific law which told people ‘OK now you have the right to collaborate and build whatever you like’. It was the people themselves that found out this possibility,” says Panos Dragonas, professor of Architecture at the University of Patras.

    Even more incredibly, the state completely accepted what its citizens had started doing, introducing only a few minor regulations, such as a maximum height for the apartment buildings – known as polykatoikies in Greek – and a ban on building over archaeological sites or on top of Athens’ seven historical hills. There were no property taxes – the state never made any direct income from antiparochi.

    The elegance of antiparochi was that it appeared to solve all of Greece’s problems at once. It provided homeowners and home seekers with modern apartments, while creating enough profit for the contractors to continue investing in construction without state subsidies or bank loans.

    Photo by Anastase Maragos on Unsplash

  • Working from home: then and now

    In 1987, Apple thought working from home should look something like this:

    Cool studio apartment with killer view. Hard disk that stores over 10,000 pages. Curious photoshoot-type lamp facing your bed. And fascimile machine capable of sending hard copies to anyone in the world. All while being steps from your refrigerator.

    But over three decades later, it instead turned out to be more like this:

    https://youtu.be/6_pru8U2RmM

    Isn’t technology liberating?

  • Fashion nothingness

    Fashion, like architecture, says a lot. It is, according to Wikipedia, an “aesthetic expression at a particular time, place and in a specific context.” So it’s interesting to consider how fashion might translate, and not translate, around the world. This recent article by The Economist, called “The United Nations of Uniqlo,” offers up one comparison, albeit a generalized one, between Japanese and American clothing preferences. (It’s an article about the Japanese fashion label Uniqlo.)

    Japan:

    At first glance there seems nothing obviously Japanese about Uniqlo’s wares. But a strong strain of minimalism pervades Japanese culture. Buddhism remains an important influence on Japanese society even in an increasingly secular age, and among its core tenets are renunciation and detachment – concepts that mean being able to suppress one’s lust for the material elements of daily life. Mario Praz, an Italian critic, contrasts the Japanese style with the suffocating abundance of Victorian interiors in Europe and America which, he says, stemmed from horror vacui (fear of emptiness). More recently, young people in the West have also grown less enamoured with acquiring stuff, hence the widespread popularity of another Japanese export: Marie Kondo, a professional declutterer.

    America:

    The American market has proved harder to crack. The 56 Uniqlo stores in America fall far short of Yanai’s plan, in 2012, to open 200 there. They still operate at a loss. “When you think about the American market, you don’t always think of subtlety,” said Steve Rowen of Retail Systems Research, a consultancy. “This is a social-climber society. Even if you want to fly under the radar, there still has to be some indication that you’re fashion forward.” Once that urban millennial with a starter job begins to make real money, Rowen postulated, “they move past a brand like Uniqlo pretty quickly.” Americans are perhaps willing to embrace invisibility only until they are rich enough to want to be seen.

    You could probably also fashion a similar argument around housing preferences. The Japanese are known for their minimalist houses, as well for completely different views on housing in general. But we shouldn’t forget that good minimalism is expensive. Remember: “Only the rich can afford this much nothing.” Maybe that’s what Uniqlo needs to do in America. The problem is that its nothingness isn’t expensive enough.

  • China’s homes are currently valued at $52 trillion

    The Journal published a piece this past week talking about China’s $52 trillion residential property bubble. According to a recent study by Goldman Sachs, this is the current value of all Chinese homes (built homes and developer inventory). And to put this number into perspective, it is twice that of the U.S. residential market.

    Now, I don’t know all that much about the Chinese housing market and I have no idea where prices will go next. But it is interesting to look at some of the data, particularly in light of this current pandemic. Urban home prices in China were up 4.9% year-over-year in June, and 1.9% year-to-date. Shenzhen appears to be one of, if not the hottest market. Why is that?

    At the same time, it is believed that about 21% of urban homes in China were vacant as of 2017. I don’t know what the figure is today, but this is a high number. As of last year, urban China also had a homeownership rate of about 96%. (Here is a look at how this number compares with other countries around the world.)

    What is clear is that Chinese households are going long property, and eschewing other investments such as stocks and bonds. Above is a chart showing how China compares to the US, where bonds lead, followed by stocks. Presumably it is because property is viewed as a safer and more lucrative investment in China.

    According to a report by China Guangfa and the Southwestern University of Finance and Economics, urban Chinese have on average about 78% of their wealth tied up in residential real estate. Many own multiple homes. In the U.S., this figure is about 35%. (I don’t know what the number is for Canada, but I would be interested to know.)

    Call me old fashioned, but I think it’s important to keep in mind things like rental demand and cash flow when thinking of property.

    All figures and charts from the WSJ.

  • The importance of the RCP

    One of my colleagues likes to remind me that in an open concept floor plan, which is obviously pretty common these days, it is the RCP, or reflected ceiling plan, that really defines a space. (For those of you who might be unfamiliar, an RCP is a plan drawing that shows you what the ceiling of a space looks like.) What he means by this is that it is things like dropped ceilings and bulkheads that really define a space. And when you’re designing a multi-unit building, you are going to have these things to contend with and coordinate (though you can also run exposed ductwork, which eliminates the need for some bulkheads/drops).

    I like this reminder for two reasons.

    One, he’s right. Ceilings matter. Frank Lloyd Wright, for example, is well known for playing around with them in his projects. He would take you through compressed spaces with lower ceiling heights and then “release” you into grand open spaces. The contrast made it all feel even more dramatic. (But I reckon Mr. Wright was pretty short because I swear I’ve been in some of his houses and the ceilings were in the range of 6′-6″.) And two, I want us to focus on this level of detail in our projects. They can be a pain in the ass to coordinate and you can’t always get them exactly how you want them, but we are paying attention.

  • One Delisle approved at Community Council

    Back in March of this year, which seems like a very long time ago, I wrote about how One Delisle came to be and how City Planning at the City of Toronto were recommending approval of its development application. Well today I am thrilled to announce that, after two deferrals, these recommendations were adopted (with some amendments) by Toronto and East York Community Council. Though it will still need to go through City Council on July 28, 2020, this milestone is a big deal for the project. It’s now time for the next chapter in this story. So stay tuned. For those of you who are new to One Delisle and would like a bit of background, here is a good place to start.

  • Project Profile: LR2 Residence

    Homes that are built on or into sloping terrains are fascinating to me because the inconveniences of having to deal with uneven ground create additional constraints. And constraints are good for design. Not only because, I feel, it makes the design process easier, but because it helps to ensure that the moves being made are less arbitrary.

    You are forced to respond to the surrounding context. You have no choice but to find some kind of harmony. And that can make things feel more deliberate, which may be the most important characteristic of good design. You want to know that someone actually thought about the design that they have put forward. You want to know that things were carefully considered.

    Of course, sloping terrains also create opportunities. They usually translate into great views, which is certainly the case with the LR2 Residence in Pasadena, California by Montalba Architects (pictured above). Here, the main “entertaining deck” is located on the upper floor and has a large outdoor terrace. This configuration is not uncommon in slopside houses.

    For more information about the LR2 Residence, including photos and floor plans, click here.

    Photo/Diagram: Kevin Scott / Montalba Architects

  • Grocery and home & garden

    It’s interesting to think about the psychology behind this FT chart outlining consumer spending in the United Kingdom from March to early July. You can see the initial panic buying of groceries in late March (well, food and toilet paper). And you can more or less see the moment where people suddenly realized — after working at home for a few weeks — that their home was in desperate need of a refresh and that planting tomatoes might be a good hobby to take up given that there isn’t much else to do. In case any of you are wondering, I remain well-stocked on the toilet paper front and my tomatoes are doing just fine.

    Image: Financial Times

  • Barton Myers’ California estate is on the market for $8.2 million

    Architect Barton Myers has his home in Montecito, California on the market right now for $8.2 million. In addition to his own residence, the 38-acre site also houses his studio and a guesthouse, all of which have roll-up garage doors so that you can enjoy that perfectly benign California climate. The estate is quintessentially Myers and it’s obviously awesome. Here is the listing from Sothebys. (I tried to street view the address but was only successful at locating what I think is its mailbox. What a natural setting.)

    For those of you who may be unfamiliar with the work of Myers, he is considered one of Toronto’s most influential architects. After graduating from the University of Pennsylvania and working with architect Louis Kahn for a few years, he moved to Toronto in the late 1960s to take up a teaching position at the University of Toronto. He then started his own architecture practice with Jack Diamond (also an alumnus of the University of Pennsylvania) and remained a principal of Diamond and Myers until 1975.

    Myers moved on to start his own firm — Barton Myers Associates — that same year and became known for notable projects such as 19 Berryman Street in Yorkville (Myers’ own residence) and the Wolf House at 51 Roxborough Drive, which was Architectural Record’s House of the Year in 1977. Probably the most distinguishing characteristic of his work is his use of exposed industrial materials, which is, of course, something that is on display in Montecito. But he managed to deploy these materials in a way that made them feel high-brow. His homes also feel very California to me.

    In 1984, he opened up an office in Los Angeles and eventually his practice in Toronto was shutdown. But not before leaving a lasting legacy in Toronto. For a map of all the firm’s North American projects, click here.

    Photo: BMA

  • The dazzling Mira tower

    I have said this before on the blog, but one of my favorite tall buildings is the Mira tower in San Francisco by Tishman Speyer (developer) and Studio Gang (architect). Now that it’s pretty much complete and residents have started to move in, John King, urban design critic for the SF Chronicle, has published this review of the building. It’s behind a paywall, but you should be able to at least see all of the photos, and below is an introductory excerpt.

    Even with today’s grim need for social isolation, San Francisco’s most eye-catching residential tower wants to pull you close.

    From the Bay Bridge or the Embarcadero, the 39-story Mira at the corner of Folsom and Spear streets is a flowing stack of tightly wound white metal bays, frozen in motion. Fragmentary glimpses from nearby blocks defy expectations, whipsawed slivers amid the stodgy norm.

    Finally, there’s the view straight up from the sidewalk — a crisp commotion of stacked angles, precisely arranged but seemingly ready to fly out in a dozen directions at once.

    Though Mira has been in the works since 2014, the architectural show still feels fresh as the first residents begin to unpack. But this 392-unit residential complex was also conceived as a celebration of triumphant urbanism — a far cry from the mood of this troubled summer.