Earlier this week my good friend Gabriel Fain emailed me a bunch of photos from his recent trip to Melbourne. Gabriel and I went to architecture school together here in Toronto and we often go back and forth on city building issues.

Here are the photos he sent me of Bourke Street in Melbourne:

The comparison he drew in his email was to that of Bloor Street in Toronto, except with a few major differences: Bourke Street is pedestrian only (except for a tram running down the middle of it). It has no curbs. There’s lots of inviting seating. And the connecting cross street laneways are fully activated. He then ended by saying that "Toronto is light years behind Melbourne and Sydney in the terms of the quality of the public space.“ 

I replied and asked if I could turn his email into an ATC post. He responded by saying that he was hoping I would, and then sent me another photo – this time of one of the laneways:

Melbourne’s laneways and arcades are celebrated around the world. What was once just residual space, became a catalyst for the revitalization of the city’s central business district in the 1990s and a major tourist destination. But all it really took was a change in thinking. It took somebody to believe that the space used for garbage collection, could also be used for a thriving culture of intimate al fresco dining.

In Toronto, I think we’re headed in the right direction in terms of our thinking, but that we’re not yet being bold enough. The recent revitalization of Market Street in my neighborhood (St. Lawrence) is a wonderful example of putting pedestrians first and a wonderful street overall. Like Bourke Street, it also doesn’t have curbs (this is how you know pedestrians matter). But it was also a prime candidate for a pedestrian-only street. Especially given that Market Lane to the north is already one (though in desperate need of renewal). 

For a number of reasons though, pedestrian-only streets are difficult to accept here in Toronto. I’ve been shot down many times in real estate meetings for arguing that we should have them in our city. Oftentimes people say it’s because of our harsh climate. But in my view, that’s all the more reason to have them. When the weather is nice, we should be enjoying our public spaces to the fullest. Why only build to the worst case scenario? Plus, they work in Scandinavia.

We’ve also done it before. In the early 1970s (when I wasn’t around), a portion of Yonge Street was piloted as a pedestrian-only mall – a remarkably forward-thinking achievement for that era of city building. So I’m confident that it can be done and that we’ll one day do it again.

Here’s further evidence that technology is starting to infiltrate into many other industries, including architecture. London-based architect and designer Pernilla Ohrstedt is currently working on an exhibition for Dezeen and MINI Frontiers that will architecturally visualize the 3D data that driverless cars collect in order to navigate around.

I had never thought of this before, but as a byproduct of driverless cars, we’re about to start collecting detailed replicas of all of our cities – well beyond the static images we currently have with Google Streetview. In order to navigate by themselves, driverless cars are constantly scanning their surroundings to create a “point cloud” replica of the built environment. This point cloud basically tells the car where they are, where they should drive, and what obstacles might be around.

It could look something like this:

Already there are firms like ScanLAB emerging to provide 3D scanning, publishing, and visualization services. But this is obviously just the tip of the iceberg. I can only imagine what innovation will emerge from the passive collection of all this data once driverless cars become commonplace in our cities.

As one example, it could be a way for us to systematically measure the correlation between the qualities of a street and the vibrancy of its street life. Is there a perfect width? An ideal traffic volume? A right scale? All of this data could make city building more of a science (and perhaps less political).

My hope though is that this data would be open and accessible to all, so that clever entrepreneurs could build on top of it.

What are some of your ideas?

Images: Dezeen

Since I’ve talked a lot before about the profession of architecture and the future of it, I thought I would share this recent interview with Mark Wigley from Surface Magazine (May 2014). Since 2004, Wigley was the Dean of Columbia University’s Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation. But he’s now stepping down and this was his exit interview.

The first question he was asked was: 

What are the most compelling reasons for someone to become an architect now?

I actually think that there’s never a compelling reason to be an architect. The decision is irrational, and that irrationality is an enormous and precious asset. Architecture is full of romantics who think that even relatively small changes to the built environment create the aspiration for a better society. It sounds hokey, but there is in every architect the thought that things could be better. This is a kind of professional optimism. And that leads to an expertise in entering situations in which the dynamics are unclear. Architects are only ever called into a situation when it’s impossible. If it’s possible, you invite somebody with a toolbox who can give answers. You call the architect in when it’s not clear what the question even is. 

The line I really like is the one I highlighted in bold above: “…there is in every architect the thought that things could be better.”

Wigley is talking about it in a kind of romantic and idealistic way, but I don’t think it necessarily needs to be that way. The optimistic belief that things could be better, that things could be improved, is a powerful notion. In my view, it’s what drives entrepreneurship and that happens to be our most powerful economic engine.

I actually think there are a number of parallels between architecture and entrepreneurship. In school, architects are indeed taught to enter into situations where “the dynamics are unclear.” It’s about taking an idea, developing it, and trying to figure out what it could become.

Then, once you’ve poured your heart and soul into that idea, you get up in front of everyone and you pitch it. It’s your job to convince everyone that, yes, the way you’ve developed your idea is in fact the right way. Sometimes you get shot down. And other times you don’t. But you just have to take the risk.

Click here to download the full PDF of Mark Wigley’s interview.