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

  • Micro-housing experiment in San Diego’s Little Italy

    San Diego-based Jonathan Segal is a unique kind of builder in that his firm doesn’t have any clients. They act as both the architect and developer for all of their projects. This gives them a lot of control over the building process, but also more freedom to experiment.

    ULI recently interviewed Segal about his micro-housing project on 320 West Cedar Street in San Diego’s Little Italy (called The Continental). And I think it’s a pretty interesting case study for us to discuss here on the blog.

    It’s a 5,000 sf corner site, and Segal developed it with 42 micro units (5 of which are priced at 65% of AMR), two retail spaces at grade, and a separate “single-family townhouse” for his son that sits on top of the retail space at the corner.

    The idea was to create relatively affordable “workforce” housing, which is why there’s also minimal parking. The 37 market-rate units are currently priced between $1,595 and $1,995 per month, and the affordable ones are about $900 per month.

    Segal is forthright in the interview in saying that leasing velocity was slow following completion in December 2019. It was hard to rent these kinds of units in San Diego without any parking. But he viewed the project as an experiment and eventually he did find product-market fit.

    The mix of housing types here is also noteworthy. Presumably his son could have just gone out and built a more typical grade-related home. But why do that when you can build on top of an urban retail space and add 42 other homes to the lot?

  • Never too small, until you get an inset bedroom without a window

    Never Too Small remains one of my favorite YouTube channels. And I have written about their videos before on the blog. The homes that they feature on their channel are generally below 600 square feet or so, and most of them are well below this mark. Some have even been designed for young families.

    One of the common strategies that you’ll see with small floor plans is that the bedroom is often reduced to only what is necessary for sleeping and it is often inset within the home, away from any exterior glass. As an example, here are before and after screenshots from a 318 sf apartment in London (link to video).

    Before:

    After:

    In this case, the bedroom was pulled away from the apartment’s bay window and a small mezzanine level was created. This makes a lot of sense since the bay window is kind of a main feature — one that, I think, is better reserved for a primary living space. They also flipped the kitchen up against the other window, rescuing it from the bowels of the apartment.

    If I had been the one tasked with redesigning this apartment, this is a floor plan that I could see myself landing on. But here’s the thing. All things being equal, I think most people would prefer a bedroom with a window. And even when all things aren’t equal, a lot of people seem willing to compromise on their main living space so that they still get one (see before plan).

    So before you go ahead and watch the NTS video, I’m curious: Which do you prefer? Would pick the before plan or the after plan given these two options?

  • The infamous 45-degree angular plane

    The Toronto mid-rise housing typology is known for architectural forms that often end up looking something like this:

    The reason for this is the infamous “45-degree angular plane” that gets applied when new developments abut low-rise residential neighborhoods. It is a way to transition down and mitigate some of the impacts associated with this kind of infill development — usually the concerns are overlook, privacy, and shadowing.

    These are, of course, legitimate concerns. But here’s the other side: Should we really be reducing the number of homes that we can build on our main streets by carving away area like this? Is overlook and shadowing more important than additional housing? Stepping buildings like this also makes constructing them more expensive and cumbersome. Are higher costs the goal?

    It is for reasons like these that some people have been paying attention to the new Danforth Avenue Planning Study that went to Toronto City Council this week. Among other things, the study recommended the relaxation of the 45-degree angular plane standard along a portion of the Danforth.

    This is certainly a step in the right direction. But in my humble opinion, it’s not nearly enough for an area that will ultimately sit at the intersection of two subway lines.

  • Mass timber construction next?

    We poured the last section of our level 4 slab at Junction House yesterday. As I was leaving the site, I tweeted this photo out from Watkinson Avenue. What you are seeing is the northwest corner of the building where we have seven two-storey towns that front onto our rear laneway. In response to this tweet, Andrew Williamson asked a most excellent question: “timber next?”

    My response was that we would love to do a mass timber building. We have certainly looked at it in the past, and we will continue to look for opportunities to use more sustainable building materials wherever possible. But there are challenges to overcome and a project like Junction House would have been far more difficult to do in mass timber. I’m not an expert when it comes to wood construction, but I will offer up three items that have come up for us in the past.

    The first is trade familiarity. We are in a highly inflationary hard cost environment right now. Everyone is hyper focused on costs and the market is competitive. So switching to a construction method that is less common comes with some additional risks. But this will almost certainly change over time as the market evolves and more people adopt mass timber.

    The second is water. The Junction area, or at least parts of it, have a relatively high water table. That is certainly the case with our site. One of the things you need to do during construction is dewater, or draw down the water level within your site so that you can actually build. In our case, we built a watertight below-grade parking structure, though that isn’t always the case.

    Dewatering comes at a cost and so generally you want to stop dewatering as soon as it is feasible to do so. But you need to make sure that you have enough weight to counteract the buoyancy forces associated with groundwater returning to the site. Generally this means you need to wait until you’ve finished constructing a certain level in the building so that there’s enough mass. The engineers will say things, “we can shut off the dewatering once we complete our level 4 slab.”

    The thing to consider with all of this is that concrete is heavier than wood, which means that you may need to run your dewatering program for longer (increasing your costs). Or, if your building isn’t all that big, maybe you’ll never have enough weight to offset the below-grade water forces and so you have to look at other methods for keeping your building from floating away. Again, this will increase your costs.

    The last thing I’ll mention is that mass timber buildings generally have higher floor-to-floor heights compared to cast-in-place concrete. What this means is that a 9 storey building in timber is going to be taller, in meters, compared to a 9 storey building in concrete — even if the clear heights within the suites are the same. This is a massive deal when you’re operating in an environment that is highly sensitive to building height.

    In the case of Junction House, we were negotiating our final height in centimeter increments — literally arguing whether it could be 50cm to 1.3m taller than some perceived maximum height. This is, in my mind, absurd, but it became a hill that people were willing to die on. The result is that our laneway towns (pictured above) went from having an entrance that was a few steps up off the lane to having an entrance that is now a few steps down off the lane. That is how we ultimately solved our centimeter problem.

    This wounded me to my core because, at the end of the day, what are people going to remark: The additional meter at the top of the building or the relationship that these towns will now have to the street? It will, of course, be the latter. So please know that our hearts were in the right place. But what this also means is that had we been trying to build in wood, we likely would have lost a floor during this negotiation and that would have killed the entire project.

  • Kaunas — European Capital of Culture

    So each year Europe runs a program called the European Capitals of Culture. The objective is to celebrate the richness of European culture and presumably drive throngs of tourists to its various locales. They do this by choosing a set of cities, designating them “capitals of culture”, and then running events and programming all throughout the calendar year in those places.

    When the program was created in 1985, it was originally called the European City of Culture, as there was only one city being chosen at a time. In the first year that city was Athens. But the program has since evolved and now multiple cities are chosen each year. For 2022, the European Capitals of Culture are Esch-sur-Alzette (Luxembourg), Kaunas (Lithuania), and Novi Sad (Serbia).

    I was reading about Kaunas in FT this morning and I was fascinated to learn that this city of approximately 300,000 people has some 6,000 modernist buildings. Some are apparently in disrepair, but many remain in good form and, as part of the festival, visitors can book stays in some of the restored ones.

    There is, of course, an interesting story behind these buildings.

    This collection of modernist buildings is the result of a relatively narrow window of time and a specific set of circumstances. Lithuania gained independence from the former Russian Empire in 1918, following WWI and while Russia was busy fighting with itself. But at the time, its capital city Vilnius, which remains the capital today, was mostly occupied by Poland.

    So Kaunas became its temporary capital city from 1920 to 1939, the latter date being when Vilnius was returned to Lithuania. This temporary designation created a tremendous need for new buildings, both public and private, and it just so happened to line up with the flourishing of European modernist architecture.

    Kaunas didn’t get any modernist “icons” from architects such as Le Corbusier, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Kaunas instead created its own varietal of modernism, one that incorporated elements of Art Deco and one that you could argue is now deeply symbolic of a very important moment in its history: A peaceful period of interwar freedom and optimism.

    Image: Kaunas 2022

  • Columns vs. shear walls in residential and office construction

    If I were to make a broad generalization for the way that we typically design the structural systems for residential buildings and office buildings here in Toronto it would be as follows: office buildings tend to have a big structural core with perimeter columns and residential buildings tend to have a smaller core accompanied by both columns and shear walls (long structural walls essentially). There are a myriad of other differences, but for the purposes of this post, I’m going to run with this broad classification.

    When something is typically done a certain way it often means that it is generally what the market wants and it is a cost effective solution. In the case of office buildings, this sort of structural system is essential for maintaining open plans and future flexibility. You can’t have shear walls interrupting your floor plates. And because big office buildings also tend to have a lot of elevators, the structural core is usually what provides lateral stability to the building (or at least this is what the structural engineers tell me).

    But this same imperative for open plans isn’t usually there for residential buildings. In this case, the unit demising is often fairly fixed and the individual resident/tenant spaces tend to be smaller than in office buildings, which makes frequent structural elements a lot more palatable. And since the elevator cores also tend to be smaller (fewer elevators), there is usually a need to introduce other structural elements that can provide the building with lateral stability. (Again, this is what the engineers tell me.) So enter all the shear walls.

    But every now and then, somebody in Toronto will ask: Is this the right way to be building? Other cities don’t build their residential buildings with all of these shear walls and so should we really be limiting the future flexibility of our multi-family housing supply by constructing in this way? These are good questions. The short answer is that it tends to be easier/cheaper to build this way. Our market is used to it. And generally end-users are just fine with it.

    However, this method of building isn’t necessarily a universal truth. The structural system for One Delisle, for example, is far closer to that of an office building than it is to that of a typical residential tower. Much of this was driven by the building’s architecture and its continually changing floor plates. I have also heard of instances where purpose-built rental developers are choosing to go column over shear wall so that there’s greater flexibility in the future. There’s certainly a case to be made for this.

    As developers, it is impossible to know all there is to know about any one discipline. You need the right team in place for that. But we do have to look at the bigger picture, weigh all of the constraints, and then hopefully make a reasonably good decision. This is one example of that.

    Image: Bay-Adelaide Centre North, Toronto

  • Weekend link roundup — Ukraine and gas supply to Warren Buffet and Canadian housing supply

    I spent much of this morning reading about and listening to discussions about what’s happening in Ukraine and so, instead of a typical post this morning, I’m just going to share a mélange of links.

    • Monocle 24 Foreign Desk episode talking about Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Speakers are Ukrainian MP Lesia Vasylenko, former NATO chief Richard Shirreff, Russian journalist Ekaterina Kotrikadze, and Russia expert Mark Galeotti. I found this helpful in better understanding some of the dynamics at play here and what might happen going forward — though, of course, who knows. All of this is both deeply sad and frustrating. [Link]
    • Discussion in Bloomberg Green about the feasibility of the EU shutting off Russian gas right now, as opposed to through a protracted transition. Currently, the EU satisfies about 20% of its total energy needs through gas and about 40% of it comes from Russia. [Link] Also, a chart showing Russian natural gas exports, by destination. [Link]
    • Warren Buffet published his widely read annual letter to Berkshire Hathaway shareholders this weekend. He likes to deliver news like this on a Saturday so that people have time to digest it before the markets reopen on Monday. The overall message was one that we have heard before: BH has a lot of cash (~$144 billion to be exact) and they’re not finding very many compelling opportunities in which to deploy it. [Link]
    • To add to the above, here is a longish Q&A session with Buffet’s partner, Charlie Munger. He continues to be worried about excess money in the system and high inflation. [Link]
    • Construction has been recently completed on a Mies van der Rohe design from 1952 that had been forgotten and buried in some archives. Originally commissioned to be a fraternity house at Indiana University, the building is now the Eskenazi School of Art, Architecture + Design. This is a supremely cool story, particularly for an architecture school. [Link]
    • Yet another simple example by Bobby Fijan on how highly restrictive zoning codes and design guidelines don’t always produce the end results that we might want. Different times and different contexts in this example. But it’s interesting to think about how best to promote design excellence in our cites. Is more creative market freedom the answer? [Link]
    • My friend Randy Gladman, who is senior vice-president of development advisory at Colliers here in Toronto, published an opinion piece in the Financial Post last week about the hidden costs of inclusionary zoning. It is consistent with the ad nauseam discussions that we have been having on this blog for the past few years, but it of course remains an important read. [Link]
    • Steve Pomeroy of Focus Consulting makes an argument in the Globe and Mail that elevated home prices in Canada isn’t primarily the result of a supply deficit. Using recent census data that allegedly shows that housing supply in Vancouver actually kept pace with demand (over how long of a period?), Pomeroy instead points to the other typical culprits: strong demand, low interest rates, unused homes owned by non-residents, and so on. This one likely deserves a dedicated post at some point. [Link]

    Ironically, the post turned out to be wordier than my usual ones.

  • Margolese National Design for Living Prize

    This landed in my inbox earlier in the week. And since I think it’s important to support Canadian talent and I think it’s important for us to continually nurture a Canadian cultural identity, I’m sharing this design prize with all of you today.

    Hosted by the University of British Columbia’s School of Architecture + Landscape Architecture (SALA), the Margolese Prize is intended to recognize early to mid-career Canadians who are doing outstanding work related to the built environment. This could be in fields like architecture and planning or it could be in adjacent fields.

    Nominations are open until April 10, 2022 and you can both nominate yourself and nominate others. The winner will be announced this September and, in addition to a ceremony and presumably a trophy of sorts, the committee will be giving out $50,000. If you’d like to nominate yourself/someone, click here.

  • Architecture is a zero-sum game

    Witold Rybczysnki recently had this to say about the American Institute of Architect’s plans to ensure better equity across the profession:

    But the architectural profession is not the post office. It depends on the availability and preferences of clients, it depends on the swings of the economy, and success relies on individual drive and talent. Architecture is a zero-sum game, of course: there are a limited number of building commissions at any one time and if one architect gets the job, another doesn’t. Some of the most prominent commissions—the ones that build a reputation—are the result of architectural competitions. In these blind auditions, only the most talented have a chance to shine. And talent is not evenly distributed; “cream rises” as Stewart Brand memorably wrote in the Whole Earth Catalog. Hard to put your thumb on that scale.

    When I read this I couldn’t help but think of Malcolm Gladwell’s account of what happened when orchestras first started conducting blind auditions in the 1980s. I think he talks about this in his book Blink. As soon as selection committees could no longer see the sex of candidates — and could only hear their musical output — orchestras immediately started hiring more females.

    This is a neat and tidy example that seems to demonstrate that women are perhaps better classical musicians than men, even though the opposite was believed to be true before large screens started obfuscating our inherent biases.

    But the selections process for architects isn’t always as simple. This makes it a bit more difficult to determine if we truly have a meritocracy or if there are in fact some deep rooted prejudices that we maybe aren’t aware of.

    Of course, there is also the possibility that we have more or less a meritocracy, but that we have structural issues which are precluding certain people from fully developing their merits in quite the same way.

    Whatever the case may be, I agree with Witold that blind design competitions are probably a fairly reasonable way to level the playing field. The problem is that design competitions are not universally used. We have never done one when searching for an architect.

    I would like to think that we simply look at their portfolio (in search of both cool and relevant projects), objectively assess their abilities, and then consider their fees. But I also know that us humans are riddled with biases.

  • Pre-fall fashion and Le Corbusier in Firminy-Vert

    I’m not exactly sure what a “pre-fall” menswear collection is all about. But Louis Vuitton recently honored the late and great fashion designer Virgil Abloh by photographing one of them in and around Le Corbusier’s Firminy-Vert complex about an hour outside of Lyon, France.

    Abloh was apparently a huge fan of the work of architect Le Corbusier. And he tried to apply the same kind of utilitarian approach to fashion as Le Corbusier had done to cities, buildings, and housing.

    The Firminy-Vert complex is a series of buildings, one of which is the last of his “Housing Unit” designs (1965). Le Corbusier designed and built a number of these, with the most well known one being in the south of France in Marseille (1952).

    They were a utopian model for high-density housing, with “streets” instead of corridors and with schools and other social functions being housed high up and inside the building. They were intended to act as a kind of vertical city.

    To the untrained eye, they might resemble the kind of public housing that today goes unloved in many cities throughout the world. But for whatever reason, these particular renditions have largely stood the test of time.

    Maybe it’s because of their importance to the development of modernist architecture, or maybe it’s because most of them (if not all of them) are now UNESCO World Heritages sites.

    My take is that it shows you that architecture and built form alone can’t solve every problem. The same building in different places and different contexts, can and will perform very differently. In this particular case, in Firminy-Vert, the complex seems to be doing rather well. The perfect backdrop for a luxury pre-fall fashion collection.