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

  • 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

  • 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.

  • Project Profile: Writer’s Shed

    Sometimes when you’re a writer, you just really need a quiet shed in which to work. This “writer’s shed” by Matt Gibson Architecture + Design out of Australia is remarkably simple — it’s 10 square meters — but also exceedingly cool. All photos by Shannon McGrath.

  • Views from the Junction

    Shot on DJI Mavic Mini

  • Guideway and Greenway

    Just northwest of the intersection of Lansdowne Avenue and Dupont Street here in Toronto, there is something known as the Davenport Diamond. It refers to the intersection of two rail lines. Going north-south is the Barrie GO corridor (regional rail service). And going east-west is a set of Canadian Pacific Railway tracks. The problem with this Diamond is that it is one of the busiest train intersections in North America and these two corridors meet at grade. So it is a problem for service levels on this corridor.

    To address this bottleneck, Metrolinx has been working on a project called the Davenport Diamond Guideway and Greenway. First and foremost, what it will do is elevate the Barrie GO corridor between Bloor Street in the south and Davenport Road in the north, allowing trains to pass over the CP tracks (rail over rail), as well as over streets like Wallace Avenue (rail over road). Metrolinx expects to have this guideway complete by spring 2023 and it will be a good thing for rail service levels across this region. Construction activity is already happening.

    But the other thing this guideway does is open up the ground (literally) for a new greenway. Metrolinx is calling this the public realm component of the project, and it expects to procure this work separately, as well as complete it only after the guideway is operational. The ETA for this is 2024. However, a design was completed for the greenway back in 2018. It was completed by gh3 — one of my favorite architecture firms in the city. And it is my understanding that this original design will be the foundation for the public realm design. Or at least, I hope it will.

    If you haven’t yet seen gh3’s design, you can check it out over here.

    Image: gh3

  • Don’t touch that door handle

    Door handles are a funny thing these days. They are one of if not our most common point of contact with the built environment, and yet in the best of times they go largely unnoticed. And in today’s world they have flipped to become a source of anxiety. Do I really need to touch this door handle or can I maybe use my foot or elbow? Some have responded by wearing gloves. But sometimes door handles offer up clues — such as a worn finish — as to where they are most commonly touched. But then one is faced with yet another difficult dilemma: do you handle the pristine part or remain committed to the worn out part since everybody else is probably thinking what you’re thinking and searching for the unadulterated section of the handle? Who knew that opening a simple door could elicit such complexity.

    But we shouldn’t be too critical of the mighty door handle. Edwin Heathcote recently published this short history of door handles and it’s a good reminder of the design intent that has gone into them over the years and how they also came to embody our broader views about architecture. One of my favorites, of course, is the original Bauhaus door handle designed by Walter Gropius and Adolf Meyer c. 1922. (Pictured above, it’s currently housed on the fifth floor of the MoMA in New York.) Its lever starts out square and machine-like, but then transforms into a cylinder, exactly where you’re supposed to grip it with your hand. It is ultra minimal, but it tells you exactly what to do. It also helps us with our dilemma. Worn or not worn, the cylinder is obviously where it should be handled.

    Image: MoMA

  • Supertall drawings

    The submission documents for 1200 Bay Street — the supertall being designed by Herzog & de Meuron and Quadrangle Architects — are now publicly available through the City of Toronto’s development applications website. I went through the plans today out of curiosity. Below are the typical residential floors. The three tranches shown here are floors 19-46, 48-79, and 81-84. Note the side elevator core and the east-west shear walls — both of which I was expecting to see.

    And here are some of the main project stats:

    • Site area after laneway widening: 890.1 square meters
    • Total gross floor area (residential & non-residential): 54, 898 square meters
    • Floor space index: 61.67
    • Building height (excluding mechanical penthouse): 324 meters
    • Number of residential suites: 332
    • Vehicular parking spaces proposed: 0
    • Bicycle parking spaces proposed: 673

    As a rule and out of professional courtesy, I do not comment on other people’s projects on this blog (other than to occasionally point out awesome and ambitious projects). But I do enjoy going through drawing sets to see what others are doing and to see what I might learn. And I am similarly happy to collaborate with others who may want to learn from what we are doing.

    If you’d like to download a copy of the submission package, you can do that by entering the address over here.

  • A new supertall by Herzog & de Meuron

    This week, Alex Bozikovic (of the Globe and Mail) dropped the news that a new supertall by Herzog & de Meuron is being planned for the northwest corner of Bay and Bloor here in Toronto. The developers are Kroonenberg Group and ProWinko, both of which are based / have their roots in the Netherlands. At 87 storeys and 324 meters, it would be the tallest building in Canada if it were built today. The proposal includes retail, office, and residential uses.

    The first thing that everybody is talking about is the tower’s slenderness ratio (the upper floors are said to be about 7,300 square feet). I’m not a structural engineer, but the structural engineers that I do know are telling me that this tower will almost certainly require a tuned mass damper at the top of the building for lateral stiffness. The tower is very narrow in its east-west direction (see below) and so it will perform as a kind of “sail” in the wind. But as New York and other cities have shown us, this can be done.

    Another feature of this building is its double skin facade. As far as I know, this would be the first residential building in Toronto to have one (please correct me if I’m wrong). In fact, the only building that I can think of off the top of my head is the Donnelly Centre for Cellular and Biomolecular Research, University of Toronto by Behnisch Architekten and architectsAlliance. (For the record, and as far as I know, I am not related to the donor for this building — but what a great last name.)

    Usually the idea behind a double skin facade is to create an air cavity between both skins and then ventilate it. To reduce cooling loads in the summer, shading devices are also usually added within this air cavity. The system works by trapping and then extracting solar heat gain before it reaches the inside of the building. Engineers and real architects tell me that this generally works a lot better than a typical interior blind, because at that point you’ve already let a lot of the heat inside of your conditioned space.

    I am a big fan of ambition. And this project is certainly ambitious. For more about the proposal, check out the Globe and Mail.

    Update: This project is being done in collaboration with Quadrangle Architects of Toronto.

    Images: Herzog & de Meuron

  • Neon and space

    At this point, it is well known that I am a big fan of neon. It is something that we have obviously worked to incorporate into our Junction House project through things like our rooftop placemaking sign (it’s actually LED), our collaboration with local artist Thrush Holmes (his work incorporates neon), and the neon popup gallery that we hosted last year in collaboration with the Downtown Yonge BIA and Neon Demon Studio. So it was no surprise that a friend of mine sent me an ArchDaily article this morning talking about how neon lighting shapes architecture.

    What I like about the piece, and the pictures it includes, is that it emphasize the spatial qualities and potential of neon. For a lot of us, neon has come to represent brash advertising. Neon is bright. That was and is great for advertising. But that association has been changing. Even cities like Hong Kong, which have for so long been synonymous with neon, are starting to lose that form of advertising. I’m not saying that loss is a good thing. But I do think that we are now seeing neon being used in completely different ways. It has become more creative. It has become architectural.

    Below is an excerpt from the ArchDaily article that speaks to this same idea. But what you really want to do is shoot over and look at all of the photos.

    Yet because neon is so fundamentally associated with signage, which can feel limiting or kitschy for some architects, it is often neglected. Rudi Stern writes further that “Unfortunately for many architects, neon is the last shoddy pink ‘pizza’ sign they have seen, and they summarily reject a medium that offers great promise as a spatial and environmental element.” Thus, despite its historical and commercial associations, neon has the potential to be even more than retro symbols or cosmopolitan phrases. Abstract designs, atmospheric colors, and the kinetic properties of light combined can completely alter a space even without references to a historical aesthetic or explicit messages. In the images of the With.It Home below, BodinChapa Architects have used neon in a non-representational way to create a stunningly memorable James Turrell-esque room that is simultaneously tranquil and radiant. Neon light has the power to completely transform a room even if used in as simple a way as lining the corners of the ceiling, due to the unique properties of light in conversation with the sense of space itself. If architects can move past its commercial associations and investigate its relationship to architectural space, neon can become an even more powerful atmospheric element than it is already.

    Photo by Yuiizaa September on Unsplash

  • Surface Summer School at Penn

    The University of Pennsylvania Stuart Weitzman School of Design — my alma mater — has just launched a new initiative with Surface Magazine called the Surface Summer School at Penn. A fairly unique partnership between a media company and an accredited university, the goal of the “summer school” is twofold.

    One, it gives Penn students, who might otherwise struggle to find an internship in this climate, something productive and positive to do over the summer. And two, it applies design thinking to the problems of this pandemic.

    Penn students will have the month of June to design a prefabricated COVID-19 testing structure — one that could be rolled out in dense and compact urban centers around the world. A jury will then review the submissions and a winner will be announced by mid-July.

    The jury includes a host of noteworthy architects and designers: Winka Dubbeldam, Dror Benshetrit, Thom Mayne, Yves Béhar, Susan Sellers, Marion Weiss, Ferda Kolatan, Joe Doucet, and others. Starting on June 3rd at 6:30 PM eastern, members of the jury will also start delivering design lectures on Surface’s Instagram.

    I am looking forward to seeing the submissions. Hopefully all of them will be made public.

    Photo by Dyana Wing So on Unsplash