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Sometimes I am an advocate for big, bold urban change. This is where I tend to be closely aligned with urbanists like Joe Berridge, co-founder of Urban Strategies. (We sat on a panel together this past October at the Council for Canadian Urbanism Forum, and I found myself agreeing with him on this point.)
For example, last week I tweeted that the edges of High Park would be better off looking like Central Park in New York. By this I meant that High Park is an urban park with a major subway line running on top of it — we should not be shy about embracing a more urban future.
This stretch of Bloor Street, at the north edge of the park, has got to be one of the dullest stretches of street along the entire line. It's hardly fitting for Toronto's most famous urban park.
Some of you didn't like this tweet. Serendipitously, it also happened to align with a heated community meeting for a major two-tower rental development in High Park North. But this project is one block from a subway station, and it should be approved. The unfortunate reality is that we have underdeveloped much of the land around our transit infrastructure.
At the very same time, I am a strong advocate for small-scale, incremental change. We've spoken a lot about this topic over the years, particularly in the context of Tokyo. Japan is renowned for its flexible approach to zoning and for the way that it allows small, ground-up interventions. The result is an approach to urbanism that is often referred to as emergent.
A good example of this approach is the work of Japanese developer Staple. Staple calls itself a "soft developer" and what that translates into is a bottom-up model that is focused on regenerating local economies. (This is arguably even more important in the context of Japan, where a shrinking population is creating urban decline in many communities.)
To achieve this, they rely on "soft infrastructure" such as local shops and grocers, hotels, housing, workspaces, restaurants, regenerative agriculture, lifelong learning centers, and more. In other words, they are focused on the nuts and bolts that make for thriving local communities and that can be easily missed if you're too focused on the bigger picture.
One recently completed project is Soil Nihonbashi in Tokyo's Nihonbashi-Kabutocho neighborhood. Designed by architect Kiyoaki Takeda, the project opened in September and includes a coffee shop, cocktail bar, dim sum spot (and other dining options), co-working space, parklet (bakery), rooftop agricultural garden, and 14-room hotel.
It's the kind of hotel that global brands tend to avoid like the plague. It's too small. Too many diseconomies of scale. But it's exactly the kind of hotel and mix of uses that is wonderful for local communities. Think of what the Drake Hotel here in Toronto did for West Queen West when it opened back in the day.
All of this brings me back to something I have said before. A good recipe for city building is to be stubborn on vision, but flexible on the details. Cities are at their best when you allow and empower bottom-up change. Get out of the way. There's no way that top-down planning will get it all right. So if you can combine bold vision with flexible implementation, well then, you've got the secret sauce.
Cover photo from architect Kiyoaki Takeda
https://twitter.com/donnelly_b/status/1623021899805560855?s=20&t=keEvA33Ww4-K_iuvp8pDTA
This compare-and-contrast tweet between Toronto's High Park and New York's Central Park was not meant to suggest that New York is a perfect comparable to appropriate (Toronto is not New York), or that foliage isn't important in our urban environments. Instead, it was meant to highlight that:
The towers north of High Park (and north of Bloor Street) could almost certainly never be built in today's planning environment. The recently built point towers exist because the slab towers were already there.
This condition of height/density tucked and setback off of main streets is something that you will find across Toronto, as well as in a number of other cities.
Sometimes it can be rightly argued that this is being done in order to preserve a fine-grained and pedestrian-scaled public realm, which is important. But in other cases, like the one above, it feels like a clear reluctance to accept big-city status and any sort of urban grandeur. Are we still trying to be a Victorian city?
Equally important in the design of public spaces are the edges and "walls" that frame it. And High Park's edges need work. Why is there almost nowhere to go and hang out on the main edge of Toronto's principal urban park? You have to go up to the Junction for that.
In general, the land around many of our higher-order transit stations is grossly underutilized. And this is a perfect example of that. What should happen here are some large-scale upzonings.
I was riding my bike on Bloor Street along the north edge of High Park over the weekend. And in between cyclists in spandex yelling at me for seemingly riding the wrong way in the bike lanes, I managed to safely snap this picture:
Sometimes I am an advocate for big, bold urban change. This is where I tend to be closely aligned with urbanists like Joe Berridge, co-founder of Urban Strategies. (We sat on a panel together this past October at the Council for Canadian Urbanism Forum, and I found myself agreeing with him on this point.)
For example, last week I tweeted that the edges of High Park would be better off looking like Central Park in New York. By this I meant that High Park is an urban park with a major subway line running on top of it — we should not be shy about embracing a more urban future.
This stretch of Bloor Street, at the north edge of the park, has got to be one of the dullest stretches of street along the entire line. It's hardly fitting for Toronto's most famous urban park.
Some of you didn't like this tweet. Serendipitously, it also happened to align with a heated community meeting for a major two-tower rental development in High Park North. But this project is one block from a subway station, and it should be approved. The unfortunate reality is that we have underdeveloped much of the land around our transit infrastructure.
At the very same time, I am a strong advocate for small-scale, incremental change. We've spoken a lot about this topic over the years, particularly in the context of Tokyo. Japan is renowned for its flexible approach to zoning and for the way that it allows small, ground-up interventions. The result is an approach to urbanism that is often referred to as emergent.
A good example of this approach is the work of Japanese developer Staple. Staple calls itself a "soft developer" and what that translates into is a bottom-up model that is focused on regenerating local economies. (This is arguably even more important in the context of Japan, where a shrinking population is creating urban decline in many communities.)
To achieve this, they rely on "soft infrastructure" such as local shops and grocers, hotels, housing, workspaces, restaurants, regenerative agriculture, lifelong learning centers, and more. In other words, they are focused on the nuts and bolts that make for thriving local communities and that can be easily missed if you're too focused on the bigger picture.
One recently completed project is Soil Nihonbashi in Tokyo's Nihonbashi-Kabutocho neighborhood. Designed by architect Kiyoaki Takeda, the project opened in September and includes a coffee shop, cocktail bar, dim sum spot (and other dining options), co-working space, parklet (bakery), rooftop agricultural garden, and 14-room hotel.
It's the kind of hotel that global brands tend to avoid like the plague. It's too small. Too many diseconomies of scale. But it's exactly the kind of hotel and mix of uses that is wonderful for local communities. Think of what the Drake Hotel here in Toronto did for West Queen West when it opened back in the day.
All of this brings me back to something I have said before. A good recipe for city building is to be stubborn on vision, but flexible on the details. Cities are at their best when you allow and empower bottom-up change. Get out of the way. There's no way that top-down planning will get it all right. So if you can combine bold vision with flexible implementation, well then, you've got the secret sauce.
Cover photo from architect Kiyoaki Takeda
https://twitter.com/donnelly_b/status/1623021899805560855?s=20&t=keEvA33Ww4-K_iuvp8pDTA
This compare-and-contrast tweet between Toronto's High Park and New York's Central Park was not meant to suggest that New York is a perfect comparable to appropriate (Toronto is not New York), or that foliage isn't important in our urban environments. Instead, it was meant to highlight that:
The towers north of High Park (and north of Bloor Street) could almost certainly never be built in today's planning environment. The recently built point towers exist because the slab towers were already there.
This condition of height/density tucked and setback off of main streets is something that you will find across Toronto, as well as in a number of other cities.
Sometimes it can be rightly argued that this is being done in order to preserve a fine-grained and pedestrian-scaled public realm, which is important. But in other cases, like the one above, it feels like a clear reluctance to accept big-city status and any sort of urban grandeur. Are we still trying to be a Victorian city?
Equally important in the design of public spaces are the edges and "walls" that frame it. And High Park's edges need work. Why is there almost nowhere to go and hang out on the main edge of Toronto's principal urban park? You have to go up to the Junction for that.
In general, the land around many of our higher-order transit stations is grossly underutilized. And this is a perfect example of that. What should happen here are some large-scale upzonings.
I was riding my bike on Bloor Street along the north edge of High Park over the weekend. And in between cyclists in spandex yelling at me for seemingly riding the wrong way in the bike lanes, I managed to safely snap this picture:
It was a reminder of that thing we like to do in Toronto where we want lower-rise along our main streets and then we tuck the taller parts somewhere in the back so that we can pretend they are maybe not there. Here's an aerial shot of the situation from Google Maps:
It's a very different condition from what you will find in New York along virtually all edges of Central Park:
Now, New York and Toronto are not the same city. This much is obvious.
But there is a grandeur and degree of urbanity that is present along Central Park that is not present along High Park. And I would argue that this feature isn't exclusive to New York. It can be found in many other cities, including places like Montreal.
I am sure that part of the rationale here on Bloor Street had to do with matching the lower-rise existing context. But we shouldn't forget that the edges of public spaces are oftentimes just as important as the spaces themselves. Sometimes they can be even more important.
So I thought I would put it out to all of you. To stepback or not to stepback. What do you think would be the most appropriate built form along this north edge of High Park? Leave a comment below.
It was a reminder of that thing we like to do in Toronto where we want lower-rise along our main streets and then we tuck the taller parts somewhere in the back so that we can pretend they are maybe not there. Here's an aerial shot of the situation from Google Maps:
It's a very different condition from what you will find in New York along virtually all edges of Central Park:
Now, New York and Toronto are not the same city. This much is obvious.
But there is a grandeur and degree of urbanity that is present along Central Park that is not present along High Park. And I would argue that this feature isn't exclusive to New York. It can be found in many other cities, including places like Montreal.
I am sure that part of the rationale here on Bloor Street had to do with matching the lower-rise existing context. But we shouldn't forget that the edges of public spaces are oftentimes just as important as the spaces themselves. Sometimes they can be even more important.
So I thought I would put it out to all of you. To stepback or not to stepback. What do you think would be the most appropriate built form along this north edge of High Park? Leave a comment below.
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