Tracey Lindeman over at the Walrus recently asked: Why is Canadian architecture so bad? Is it because Canadians are too passive and apathetic when it comes to good design? Or is it because we're too cheap and don't like our tax dollars being spent on unnecessarily lavish public buildings?

Whatever the case, there is an argument out there that we maybe had this wonderful period between the 50s and 70s where we really excelled in modern architecture and design (including graphic design), but that we kind of stopped caring and have built mostly banal stuff since then.

Part of Tracey's argument is simply that we're cowards. We're more interested in "checking boxes instead of taking chances." We've become too bureaucratic when it comes to procuring new public architecture. And she's not wrong.

Why we accept it is a patently Canadian phenomenon: our national psyche has us much more interested in checking boxes than in taking chances. Our standard process for contracting buildings often gives projects to the lowest bidders, even if a vastly more beautiful design is just a little bit more expensive. We have become so devoted to frugality and bureaucracy, and are so readily appeased by basic functionality, that we have lost the fortitude to take and demand risks, even if the outcome could be the most beautiful thing we’ve ever seen.

Great architecture requires not only great architects, but also great patrons of architecture. That has generally been the way all throughout history. But here's the fortunate thing. We have lots of wonderfully talented architects in this country and lots of people who see the value in architecture.

In fact, I think you could argue that over the last 5-10 years we have seen the quality of architecture in our cities step up dramatically. Some of these projects have been designed by top Canadian architects and some have been designed by leading international architects.

In both cases it's because we see the value proposition and have decided to invest in architecture and design. Now we just need to be bolder across the board and get bureaucracy and checkboxes out of the way of Canadian creativity.

Canadian cities are well known in the world of film for their ability to stand-in for other global cities. They rarely play themselves, which actually pisses me off. Because I take it as a sign that we're not doing nearly enough to make Canadian cities the most beautiful and remarkable cities in the world. Canadian cities should play starring roles. Movies should want to feature them, rather than repurpose them.

That said, it's an interesting phenomenon to explore. And that's exactly what the Canadian pavilion will be doing this year at the Venice Biennale. The exhibition is called Impostor Cities and it will explore the various buildings and cityscapes that have been featured in films but that most people probably had no idea were Canadian.

It is perhaps a new perspective on Canadian cities, bringing our stand-ins into the limelight. And it'll be available online and onsite (yes, real life) starting May 22. I'm sure it'll be great. I just hope that it makes us realize how embarrassing it is that our cities aren't being celebrated in the way that they should be. Let's be bolder. Let's build greatness.

Winnipeg has a building along its waterfront that, I am told, is affectionately referred to as the "spaceship." Designed by the award-winning architecture practice, 5468796, the spaceship is a 41-unit circular condominium building that is raised up on 35 foot stilts in order to fabricate views outward from the site. Sans stilts, the site wouldn't have really had any.

The raised up portion is made up of two circular floors, each with 20 identical units (so 40 in total). The 610 square foot units are all pie-shaped studios that splay outward to a 22 foot wide living room/bedroom. Supposedly, a circle creates 30% more perimeter glass than if the building were orthogonal. So good for views. I should know this.

The building is organized around a central core and circulation system. The building's common area corridors are also open and exposed to the elements. A fascinating design decision given the climate in Winnipeg, and most of Canada. But this would be good for build costs, good for the building's overall efficiency/loss factor, and probably pretty good if you're worried about things like airborne viruses.

Completed in 2017, the hard cost budget for the project was supposedly $4.75 million. The developer in me is wondering how the hell they built 28,000 square feet for $170 per square foot. And the Torontonian in me is aghast at studios as large as 610 square feet. These would be generally sized 3 bedroom suites here in Toronto (I kid).

On top of the building's two floors is also a pretty unique penthouse suite that can be rented on Airbnb for what looks to be a reasonable price. The main living space is essentially a glass box with 360 degree views of the city. I am ashamed to say that I have never been to Winnipeg. But as soon travel resumes and these provincial boundary checkpoints dissolve, I think it might be time for a trip to the spaceship.

All photography by James Brittain Photography

Tracey Lindeman over at the Walrus recently asked: Why is Canadian architecture so bad? Is it because Canadians are too passive and apathetic when it comes to good design? Or is it because we're too cheap and don't like our tax dollars being spent on unnecessarily lavish public buildings?

Whatever the case, there is an argument out there that we maybe had this wonderful period between the 50s and 70s where we really excelled in modern architecture and design (including graphic design), but that we kind of stopped caring and have built mostly banal stuff since then.

Part of Tracey's argument is simply that we're cowards. We're more interested in "checking boxes instead of taking chances." We've become too bureaucratic when it comes to procuring new public architecture. And she's not wrong.

Why we accept it is a patently Canadian phenomenon: our national psyche has us much more interested in checking boxes than in taking chances. Our standard process for contracting buildings often gives projects to the lowest bidders, even if a vastly more beautiful design is just a little bit more expensive. We have become so devoted to frugality and bureaucracy, and are so readily appeased by basic functionality, that we have lost the fortitude to take and demand risks, even if the outcome could be the most beautiful thing we’ve ever seen.

Great architecture requires not only great architects, but also great patrons of architecture. That has generally been the way all throughout history. But here's the fortunate thing. We have lots of wonderfully talented architects in this country and lots of people who see the value in architecture.

In fact, I think you could argue that over the last 5-10 years we have seen the quality of architecture in our cities step up dramatically. Some of these projects have been designed by top Canadian architects and some have been designed by leading international architects.

In both cases it's because we see the value proposition and have decided to invest in architecture and design. Now we just need to be bolder across the board and get bureaucracy and checkboxes out of the way of Canadian creativity.

Canadian cities are well known in the world of film for their ability to stand-in for other global cities. They rarely play themselves, which actually pisses me off. Because I take it as a sign that we're not doing nearly enough to make Canadian cities the most beautiful and remarkable cities in the world. Canadian cities should play starring roles. Movies should want to feature them, rather than repurpose them.

That said, it's an interesting phenomenon to explore. And that's exactly what the Canadian pavilion will be doing this year at the Venice Biennale. The exhibition is called Impostor Cities and it will explore the various buildings and cityscapes that have been featured in films but that most people probably had no idea were Canadian.

It is perhaps a new perspective on Canadian cities, bringing our stand-ins into the limelight. And it'll be available online and onsite (yes, real life) starting May 22. I'm sure it'll be great. I just hope that it makes us realize how embarrassing it is that our cities aren't being celebrated in the way that they should be. Let's be bolder. Let's build greatness.

Winnipeg has a building along its waterfront that, I am told, is affectionately referred to as the "spaceship." Designed by the award-winning architecture practice, 5468796, the spaceship is a 41-unit circular condominium building that is raised up on 35 foot stilts in order to fabricate views outward from the site. Sans stilts, the site wouldn't have really had any.

The raised up portion is made up of two circular floors, each with 20 identical units (so 40 in total). The 610 square foot units are all pie-shaped studios that splay outward to a 22 foot wide living room/bedroom. Supposedly, a circle creates 30% more perimeter glass than if the building were orthogonal. So good for views. I should know this.

The building is organized around a central core and circulation system. The building's common area corridors are also open and exposed to the elements. A fascinating design decision given the climate in Winnipeg, and most of Canada. But this would be good for build costs, good for the building's overall efficiency/loss factor, and probably pretty good if you're worried about things like airborne viruses.

Completed in 2017, the hard cost budget for the project was supposedly $4.75 million. The developer in me is wondering how the hell they built 28,000 square feet for $170 per square foot. And the Torontonian in me is aghast at studios as large as 610 square feet. These would be generally sized 3 bedroom suites here in Toronto (I kid).

On top of the building's two floors is also a pretty unique penthouse suite that can be rented on Airbnb for what looks to be a reasonable price. The main living space is essentially a glass box with 360 degree views of the city. I am ashamed to say that I have never been to Winnipeg. But as soon travel resumes and these provincial boundary checkpoints dissolve, I think it might be time for a trip to the spaceship.

All photography by James Brittain Photography