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.

Category: Architecture

  • Practicing what I preach

    In yesterday’s post I wrote about happiness vs. satisfaction (among a bunch of other things). And I mentioned that I derive deep satisfaction from the work that I do, which is real estate development. On the back of this post, I received a question from a reader this morning that more or less asked me if I think about the impact of my work on other people’s happiness / satisfaction. Part of the point that was being made was that while it may be a positive endeavor for me, I may be completely destroying the satisfaction, happiness, and lives of others. Do I give this any thought? Lastly, a point was made that very few developers seem to live in their own housing projects, which should tell you something.

    I thought these were all very good points/questions and so I’d like to respond to them publicly:

    • I do think carefully about the happiness and satisfaction of others. In fact, part of the reason this work is satisfying is that, in my opinion, it is both challenging and important work. Growing cities require new housing and the reality is that almost all of this housing comes from private developers.
    • This may sound cheesy, but I also care deeply about beauty. This is something that is of course in the eye of the beholder. But I do want things to be beautiful. I want our cities to be more beautiful. And I don’t think we talk about this enough. I mean, just look at the garbage bins we have in Toronto.
    • Some people may not like or appreciate the form that development usually takes in cities such as Toronto, but the housing needs to go somewhere. As a result of restricting development in most areas of the city, we are now forced to highly concentrate development in relatively few areas. Many are reacting to this.
    • There will almost certainly be tensions between incumbents and new entrants when it comes to city building. That’s part of what makes this work so challenging and rewarding. Everyone involved in the building of our cities has to constantly problem solve and manage competing interests. It’s not easy.
    • I am in fact moving into one of our projects (Junction House). I am doing this because (1) I think our team is creating an awesome and beautiful project and (2) I believe that living in multi-family buildings in walkable neighborhoods is a more sustainable (and enjoyable) way to live. I want to practice what I preach.
  • 50U

    There is a new book out right now about the United Arab Emirates called 50U. It has been fifty years since the confederation of the seven Gulf states was officially declared (December 2, 1971), and so the book is a celebration of that. The format is 50 portraits of people, places, and plants (yes, plants) that tell the story of the UAE.

    Included in the book is an excerpt of a 2009 talk by architect Rem Koolhaas (of OMA) about his reading of Dubai. ArchDaily published an abridged version over here and I thought it was an interesting read. Few people think about cities as deeply as Koolhaas does, and few can express their thoughts in such a rational and Dutch-like way. Here’s a snippet of the talk:

    I came here first in 2004. We were asked to do a major building on the site which is marked by the flag. Then, two years ago it was the exact moment… I became increasingly nervous about the mission of architecture and the uses of architecture. And I really became almost desperate… that the incredible pressure of the market economy was forcing architecture itself into increasingly extravagant conditions. Seemingly, Dubai seemed to be the epicenter of that extravagance. So, I came with deeply ambivalent feelings. It seemed as if the idea of the city and the metropolis itself had been almost turned into a caricature, not a coherent entity but maybe a patchwork of theme parks. And those themes would become the bogus and increasingly bizarre characters that were perhaps partly mythical and partly real.

    I’ve only been to Dubai once. It was back in 2008 or 2009. And to be honest, it wasn’t my favorite city; I think primarily because I enjoy walking cities and Dubai is largely the opposite of that. It felt like a patchwork of theme parks that you had to drive around to — ideally in an exotic car while being as flashy as possible.

    Now if these theme parks were within walking distance (and the drinks were good), that would be an entirely different story.

  • Rotterdam Rooftop Walk

    A new brightly-colored rooftop installation opened up this week in Rotterdam. It includes a 30-meter-high aerial bridge that connects a few of the city’s rooftops. Designed by Rotterdam Rooftop Days and MVRDV, the “Rotterdam Rooftop Walk” is designed to bring awareness to the city’s rooftops and demonstrate how they might be used as an added layer of public infrastructure within the city. The installation will run from May 26 to June 24.

    This is a neat idea and not just because I like bright orange things. Rooftops are, by and large, underutilized assets within our cities. It behooves us to do more (I just wanted to say behooves). But I think it’s important to keep in mind that aerial bridges and rooftop spaces can come in many different forms. I think you could argue that there are aerial bridges designed to enliven forgotten spaces (like this example here) and there are aerial bridges designed as a solution to appalling and inhospitable ground planes.

    Sometimes these inhospitable spaces are because of extreme climates and sometimes it is because we forgot how to design spaces that are actually enjoyable for pedestrians. The former of these two scenarios is, I guess, more excusable. But I do think that many cities lack the kind of densities needed to animate multiple layers of public spaces. Often you need to pick where you want to focus people’s attention.

    Still, bright orange walkways. Neat.

  • Design-forward vacation rentals

    What I was getting at with the above tweet is that I think there’s way more demand, for places like this and this, than there is supply. Click on the first link and you’ll see that it’s booked up all summer long. And as for the second link, I just booked one of their rentals for this summer, but I have been trying — for years — to book it in the winter.

    I think the unmet use case is as simple as this: I live in a big city, and I want to get out of the city and go somewhere cool and design-forward. There are, of course, some options. But there’s a need for a lot more. Generally speaking, it feels to me like the majority of the supply is either (1) an expensive/large cottage or (2) an old “classic luxury” kind of hotel.

    I’m specifically referring to Toronto and southern Ontario with these options, but judging by some of the responses I got to my tweet, this appears to be an opportunity in many other markets as well. But I would be curious to hear from all you in comments or on Twitter. What “local” hospitality offerings are missing in your market? Where would you like to travel to and stay, but can’t?

  • Harvard announces new Master in Real Estate degree

    The Harvard Graduate School of Design (GSD) just announced a new 12-month degree called the Master in Real Estate (MRE). Here’s a short excerpt about the program:

    The MRE program is designed to train future practitioners to address new and urgent realities facing the built environment and cities today. Whether undertaken by for-profit businesses, not-for-profit organizations, or public entities, real estate occupies a pivotal role in determining how the places where we live, work, and play are equitable, environmentally sustainable, and appealing, in addition to being productive for the economy.

    The key takeaways are that this is a graduate program being designed for aspiring real estate entrepreneurs and that it will live within Harvard’s Graduate School of Design. So there is an implicit recognition that the world of real estate doesn’t need to run counter to the pedagogical goals of a design school.

    Anyone who went to architecture school will tell you that real estate is often viewed as the “dark side.” Either you commit yourself to the pure world of architecture and design, or you sell out and seek profits in the world of real estate. But I have always considered this to be a false dichotomy.

    Real estate is a fundamental component of how we shape our built environment. And so if one’s ambitions are to improve the built environment — which is something that architecture schools do teach you — why should the delivery vehicle matter? Shouldn’t we be encouraging people to optimize for maximum benefit?

    I completed my undergraduate degree in architecture. But very early on I had the feeling that I was only getting one piece of a larger picture. And so I went to the University of Pennsylvania for graduate school and completed a degree that combined both architecture and real estate. My goal was to figure out a way to combine both passions. Maybe I’d become the next Jonathan Segal.

    Penn was very open to cross-disciplinary studies at the time (this was the mid-2000s), but there was still a gaping divide between the school of design and the business school. Walking across campus meant taking off one hat and putting on another. There wasn’t a lot of overlap.

    After school, I returned to Toronto and started working in development. I then decided to pursue my MBA part-time, which really wasn’t necessary for my career, but was probably driven by some sort of insecurity I felt at Penn. I was the outsider design student (with funny glasses I might add) trying to keep up with Wharton MBAs.

    I went back to the University of Toronto for my MBA and thoroughly enjoyed it. But I still couldn’t understand why there was such little overlap between the design school and the business school when it came to matters of the built environment. The real estate courses at Rotman were also extremely limited at the time.

    So I started talking to faculty members: What would it took to create a joint real estate program that lived somewhere between the design school and the business school? I offered to help and I tried to press upon everyone that this was a gaping void and a huge opportunity. Canada was falling behind in terms of real estate education. It was time to step up.

    The answer I got was generally always twofold: (1) Rotman’s real estate courses were already good enough and (2) it’s pretty hard to start a new program at the University. You have to do a bunch of things, one of which includes finding money. So, sorry.

    Harvard’s new Master in Real Estate degree is the kind of program I had in mind. So I’m happy to see others taking action. And I ultimately think it will be a good thing for our cities.

    If you’d like to apply, you can do that starting this fall.

  • A flexible parkade in Calgary

    As a general rule, I believe that our cities should be striving for less rather than more parking. Which is why it still baffles me when allegedly progressive cities continue to mandate ludicrous parking ratios (even when the sites are next to transit). You know who you are.

    But if you absolutely have to build it, the new 9th Avenue Parkade + Innovation Centre in Calgary is a good example to look to.

    Designed by 5468796 Architecture in collaboration with Kasian Architecture, Interior Design and Planning, the project does all of the things to ensure that it doesn’t look ugly today and it doesn’t need to remain a parkade in the future once we all switch over to electric scooters and flying autonomous vehicles.

    Some of the moves include 4m floor-to-floor heights and generally flat floor slabs that only rise 1-2%. This was done so that the floors can be more easily retrofitted to residential and/or office in the future.

    And in fact, this flexibility already gotten proven out during the design process. Originally the ~335,000 square foot building was going to be entirely parking. But then an innovation centre called Platform came to the table for 50,000 sf, and a portion of the building had to be converted to flexible office space.

    Let’s hope this trend continues. But in the meantime, here are some pretty pictures:

    All photos by James Brittain.

  • Studio Gang in Amsterdam

    Slate Asset Management, RAD Marketing, and the top producing brokers for One Delisle were fortunate enough to be able to tour a Studio Gang-designed project in Amsterdam today called the Q Residences. A huge thanks to the developers — Kroonenberg Groep and Neoo — for their time and hospitality this afternoon.

    Here are two photos of the exterior:

    The building, which is a mixed-income rental apartment, is still under construction, and occupancy is expected sometime this fall. The structure is poured-in-place concrete, but the balconies were all pre-fabricated and installed on site. You can tell this by looking near the top of the above photo.

    Here are a few other interesting takeaways from the tour:

    – 40% of the complex is social housing (which is housed in an entirely separate but similarly impressive building); this is a mandatory requirement

    – The land is owned by the city and is being leased to the developers; the lease rate was discounted to account for the social housing requirement

    – The entire building uses in-floor heating and cooling, so there are no ducts or bulkheads in any of the suites (slabs are all about 300mm to accommodate this)

    – The balconies all have a rainwater collection system, which is mounted and concealed on the exterior of the building (it rarely goes below freezing here I am told)

    – The parking ratio for cars is very roughly about 0.5 per unit and the bicycle parking ratio is very roughly 3 per unit (remember this is the bicycle capital of the world)

    – Structural system is mostly shear walls; they also have some post-tensioning in the slabs

    – Less reliance on metal wall studs; instead they use a more expensive block-like system that offers more rigidity and better sound attenuation (I will look for the exact specification)

    – There is also this odd/interesting requirement that all of the suites have an operable window that can provide both natural ventilation and sound attenuation; in other words, it needs to let air in and block sound at the same time

    Here’s what that looks like at Q Residences:

    We don’t have a requirement like this in Toronto and so that’s why I used the word odd. We have ventilation and sound requirements, but they don’t need to be solved simultaneously in this same way.

    Why I also think this is interesting is because I think it speaks to a greater reliance on natural ventilation over active mechanical systems. In Toronto, the underlying thinking is that if it’s too hot and noisy, it’s just a matter of shutting your windows and turning on the AC.

    Of course, we obviously we have to manage around a very different climate, so I don’t mean this as a criticism of Toronto codes. It’s just an observation.

    If you aren’t familiar with the Q Residences, or the work of Neoo and Kroonenberg, I would encourage you to search around online. The project is gorgeous and so is the rest of their work.

  • Toilet seat heights in Amsterdam

    I am in Amsterdam right now for the very first time. And after I took in all the bicycles, the beautifully tilting buildings, and its iconic canals, the first thing that struck me was — get this — the height of its toilet seats.

    Now don’t get me wrong, I am a reasonably tall guy. So it’s not that the bowl in my hotel room isn’t comfortable or anything like that. It actually feels quite luxurious. I just know that this thing has got to be taller than your average bowl.

    A typical toilet seat height can be anywhere from 15 to 19” when measuring from the floor to the top of the seat. But I think 17-19” is the most typical range. So how much taller is my Dutch bowl?

    Sadly, I forgot to pack my tape measure on this trip. So I instead used the tallest book I could find in the room as a measuring stick. It happenend to be the above book by Hollywood photographer Matthew Rolston.

    Matthew’s book is 36cm tall and so, by using everything I ever learned in architecture school, I am now fairly confident that my seat is currently sitting at around 21-22” off the ground.

    Dutch people are tall. And so too are the bowls, it would seem.

  • The Eiffel Tower and the awful tower

    It was explained to me this week that Paris has two principal towers: The Eiffel Tower and the awful tower. The awful tower is, of course, the Tour Montparnasse. Completed in 1973, the Tour Montparnasse is tall, brown, monolithic, and seemingly out of place with the rest of Paris’ urban context. At the time of its completion it was the tallest building in Paris and it remains the tallest building outside of La Defense (business district).

    But the Eiffel Tower is also tall. In fact, it’s taller. So how is it that the Eiffel Tower became such a symbol for Paris and the Tour Montparnasse became the “awful tower?” Both were intended to represent modernity (at their respective times) and both were controversial at the time of their construction.

    Today people respond to these two towers very differently. Is it because the Eiffel Tower is set in a beautiful park and more separated from its urban context? Or is it because the Eiffel Tower has had almost another 100 years to settle in. It’s not exactly clear. But we do know that as humans we have a bias toward the status quo. And so I like to think of change in the following way:

    – There’s change that people immediately like

    – There’s change that people hate and will always hate

    – And there’s change that people initially hate but will eventually like

    The Eiffel Tower, you could argue, falls into category number three. It was big, modern, and alarmingly different when it was built at the end of the 19th century. But now people seem to like it. I know this based on the number of street vendors selling little replicas. For the record, I have yet to see little replicas of the Tour Montparnasse sitting on blankets on the street. I’m a buyer if I do come across one though.

    But is it really right to place Montparnasse into category number two? Could it be that it just needs more time to settle in and then it will ultimately move into number three? Maybe. In 2017, an international design competition was held to find an architect for the redesign of the tower. Studio Gang submitted an entry. But Nouvelle AOM was ultimately selected.

    I wasn’t part of the selections committee, but I think a good way to evaluate the success of this project will be whether or not it moves the tower into category three. That is, people start to like it. Then maybe Paris will become known as a city of two towers, as opposed to a city with one nice one and one awful one.

  • Floor numbering conventions

    One of the things that is common in Europe is that building floors often start with zero for the ground floor and then go both up and down from there.

    This is different than most of North America where the ground floor is usually floor number 1 (regardless of what it might be called) and then the floors go up from there.

    Using the pictured example (above), the key difference is that, with the ground floor as zero, you end up with the above-grade floors being off by 1 and the top floor being 6 instead of 7.

    There is a certain rationality to the European approach that I like, but I am curious how suites on ground floors get typically numbered. I will seek this out and report back.

    At Junction House, our ground floor residences follow 101, 102, 103, etc. Following the exact same logic, the European equivalent would be 001, 002, 003, etc. This, admittedly, feels a bit odd.

    Which floor convention do you find more intuitive?

    Either way, I’m thinking about adopting the European approach for no other reason than that height is a sensitive topic in the world of development, so one less “headline” floor could be helpful. (Half-joking)