Brandon Donnelly
Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly.
Brandon Donnelly
Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly.

I recently came across this for-sale listing from Fantastic Frank for a 3-room apartment in Berlin's new Am Tacheles district. Naturally, I thought to myself, "Hey, this is a beautiful apartment — now let me go all the way back to the beginning of the 20th century and better understand the history of the development site."
Am Tacheles has been called the most controversial real estate project in Berlin's modern history. Previously developed in 1908 as a high-end shopping arcade intended to rival the great galleries of Paris, the Friedrichstraßenpassage, as it was known, was an ambitious undertaking located in the city's historic Jewish quarter.
But only about six months after opening, the project went bankrupt. The existing building then went on to live numerous lives, ranging from an AEG showroom to a building used to house French war prisoners, before ultimately being co-opted by artists in 1990 as a way to save it from demolition.
It was at this point that it was given the name Tacheles, which is a Yiddish word meaning "to speak straight." Supposedly, this was a reference to the area's history as a thriving Jewish quarter and a message about political honesty (it is located in the former East Berlin, where that wasn't a thing).
For the next two decades, the site became a global symbol of Berlin's "poor but sexy" identity. The ownership vacuum created by the fall of the Berlin Wall meant that nobody really knew who owned what. This was a disaster for clear property rights and capital investment, but fortuitous for squatters who needed cheap (okay, free) space to experiment with art and techno music.

In my view, this was ultimately a net positive for the city. It created an urban vitality that nobody could have predicted, demonstrating the potential of people and cities when allowed to experiment and take risks.
But then, basically, two things happened: (1) people eventually figured out who owned what, and (2) the development potential of the site became increasingly valuable. This is the quintessential urban cycle. First, the artists and creatives come in to take advantage of cheap space. They then make the area cool. And then developers like me come in to monetize it, completing the cycle.
Fast forward to today, and Am Tacheles (they kept the name) is a new master-planned community designed by Swiss architects Herzog & de Meuron and one of the most desirable (and thus expensive) areas in Berlin. It's also quite a bit tidier there these days, though they did preserve some of the graffiti.


Returning to our 3-room apartment listing, the asking price is €1,825,000 + €90,000 (for what I believe is a parking space). At 113 sqm, this works out to ~€16,947 per sqm or about C$2,529 per sqft (for comparison to Toronto prices). As I understand it, this is well above the average new construction home prices in the area and city.
What is clear is that Berlin is no longer poor. It's global-city rich. But is it still sexy?
Cover photo and floor from Fantastic Frank
Historic Tacheles photo via Wikipedia
Am Tacheless photo and stairwell section from H&dM

Yesterday we spoke about the merits of fine-grained urbanism and why the direct and obvious way to achieve this is to just, you know, encourage more small-scale development. So today, let's talk about some of the specific things that would likely need to happen in order to unlock all of the small and under-utilized sites that today are not being developed at scale.
I'm going to speak from a Toronto perspective and talk specifically about small-scale "apartments," which in today's planning environment are generally buildings with seven or more dwelling units. Under this threshold, we have new terminology like "houseplex." But I'm sure that much of what I raise will translate to other cities and building types.
Here's my working list (I've also added a few items from this Twitter discussion):
As-of-right zoning permissions (the key, though, is that what's as-of-right needs to be economically viable)
No side-yard and front-yard setbacks
No site plan control approval (currently required for projects with 10 or more homes)
No/lower development charges
No parkland dedication fees
No required parking
No required amenity spaces (the city is the amenity)
Curbside garbage collection (as opposed to internalized collection facilities)
Reasonable servicing connection costs (I'm specifically looking at you Toronto Hydro)
No Record of Site Condition, or a streamlined process (Ministry of the Environment, Conservation and Parks approval)

I recently came across this for-sale listing from Fantastic Frank for a 3-room apartment in Berlin's new Am Tacheles district. Naturally, I thought to myself, "Hey, this is a beautiful apartment — now let me go all the way back to the beginning of the 20th century and better understand the history of the development site."
Am Tacheles has been called the most controversial real estate project in Berlin's modern history. Previously developed in 1908 as a high-end shopping arcade intended to rival the great galleries of Paris, the Friedrichstraßenpassage, as it was known, was an ambitious undertaking located in the city's historic Jewish quarter.
But only about six months after opening, the project went bankrupt. The existing building then went on to live numerous lives, ranging from an AEG showroom to a building used to house French war prisoners, before ultimately being co-opted by artists in 1990 as a way to save it from demolition.
It was at this point that it was given the name Tacheles, which is a Yiddish word meaning "to speak straight." Supposedly, this was a reference to the area's history as a thriving Jewish quarter and a message about political honesty (it is located in the former East Berlin, where that wasn't a thing).
For the next two decades, the site became a global symbol of Berlin's "poor but sexy" identity. The ownership vacuum created by the fall of the Berlin Wall meant that nobody really knew who owned what. This was a disaster for clear property rights and capital investment, but fortuitous for squatters who needed cheap (okay, free) space to experiment with art and techno music.

In my view, this was ultimately a net positive for the city. It created an urban vitality that nobody could have predicted, demonstrating the potential of people and cities when allowed to experiment and take risks.
But then, basically, two things happened: (1) people eventually figured out who owned what, and (2) the development potential of the site became increasingly valuable. This is the quintessential urban cycle. First, the artists and creatives come in to take advantage of cheap space. They then make the area cool. And then developers like me come in to monetize it, completing the cycle.
Fast forward to today, and Am Tacheles (they kept the name) is a new master-planned community designed by Swiss architects Herzog & de Meuron and one of the most desirable (and thus expensive) areas in Berlin. It's also quite a bit tidier there these days, though they did preserve some of the graffiti.


Returning to our 3-room apartment listing, the asking price is €1,825,000 + €90,000 (for what I believe is a parking space). At 113 sqm, this works out to ~€16,947 per sqm or about C$2,529 per sqft (for comparison to Toronto prices). As I understand it, this is well above the average new construction home prices in the area and city.
What is clear is that Berlin is no longer poor. It's global-city rich. But is it still sexy?
Cover photo and floor from Fantastic Frank
Historic Tacheles photo via Wikipedia
Am Tacheless photo and stairwell section from H&dM

Yesterday we spoke about the merits of fine-grained urbanism and why the direct and obvious way to achieve this is to just, you know, encourage more small-scale development. So today, let's talk about some of the specific things that would likely need to happen in order to unlock all of the small and under-utilized sites that today are not being developed at scale.
I'm going to speak from a Toronto perspective and talk specifically about small-scale "apartments," which in today's planning environment are generally buildings with seven or more dwelling units. Under this threshold, we have new terminology like "houseplex." But I'm sure that much of what I raise will translate to other cities and building types.
Here's my working list (I've also added a few items from this Twitter discussion):
As-of-right zoning permissions (the key, though, is that what's as-of-right needs to be economically viable)
No side-yard and front-yard setbacks
No site plan control approval (currently required for projects with 10 or more homes)
No/lower development charges
No parkland dedication fees
No required parking
No required amenity spaces (the city is the amenity)
Curbside garbage collection (as opposed to internalized collection facilities)
Reasonable servicing connection costs (I'm specifically looking at you Toronto Hydro)
No Record of Site Condition, or a streamlined process (Ministry of the Environment, Conservation and Parks approval)
Bruno Carvalho has just published a new book that is right in the wheelhouse of this blog. It's called The Invention of the Future: A History of Cities in the Modern World.
The book starts in the mid-18th century with cities like Lisbon, Paris, and London. However, more than being just a history of cities, it is (from what I've read) the story of how city builders throughout history have tried to predict and create the future, only to often get it wrong.
In the words of Carvalho (via CityLab): "The constant of urbanization is change, so we have to always imagine our solutions as being contingent."
The same is, of course, true today. For example, building tunnels for Tesla cars may seem like a clever and futuristic solution to urban traffic congestion, except that it's hard to imagine it actually working (also via CityLab):
"One of the values of history is to give us a sharper sense of what’s new in the present. Many people imagine solutions that to them represent the great rupture, but that’s not always the case. The tunnels are a good example; they bring together the problems of cars having very low carrying capacity and subways being very hard to build. That doesn’t strike me as a very futuristic approach to mobility, but rather one that just hasn’t learned enough about the past."
I now have Carvalho's book on my reading list, and I thought I would share it here in case some of you would like to do the same.
Cover photo by Michiel Annaert on Unsplash
Single egress stair
Flexible elevator sizing
No rental replacement
Predictable financing terms from agencies like CMHC
There's a lot on this list. But there isn't just one thing standing in the way of more fine-grained development. If you think I missed anything (or you just disagree with my line of thinking), feel free to leave a comment below.
What Toronto has demonstrated with its efforts to expand housing options in its neighbourhoods is that, when it makes economic sense to do so, people will actually build small. Today, the market is building single-unit laneway houses, and increasingly, it is building things like fourplexes and sixplexes.
So, what's standing in the way of more 10-, 20-, and 30-unit projects? It's the barriers and hurdles we have erected.
Bruno Carvalho has just published a new book that is right in the wheelhouse of this blog. It's called The Invention of the Future: A History of Cities in the Modern World.
The book starts in the mid-18th century with cities like Lisbon, Paris, and London. However, more than being just a history of cities, it is (from what I've read) the story of how city builders throughout history have tried to predict and create the future, only to often get it wrong.
In the words of Carvalho (via CityLab): "The constant of urbanization is change, so we have to always imagine our solutions as being contingent."
The same is, of course, true today. For example, building tunnels for Tesla cars may seem like a clever and futuristic solution to urban traffic congestion, except that it's hard to imagine it actually working (also via CityLab):
"One of the values of history is to give us a sharper sense of what’s new in the present. Many people imagine solutions that to them represent the great rupture, but that’s not always the case. The tunnels are a good example; they bring together the problems of cars having very low carrying capacity and subways being very hard to build. That doesn’t strike me as a very futuristic approach to mobility, but rather one that just hasn’t learned enough about the past."
I now have Carvalho's book on my reading list, and I thought I would share it here in case some of you would like to do the same.
Cover photo by Michiel Annaert on Unsplash
Single egress stair
Flexible elevator sizing
No rental replacement
Predictable financing terms from agencies like CMHC
There's a lot on this list. But there isn't just one thing standing in the way of more fine-grained development. If you think I missed anything (or you just disagree with my line of thinking), feel free to leave a comment below.
What Toronto has demonstrated with its efforts to expand housing options in its neighbourhoods is that, when it makes economic sense to do so, people will actually build small. Today, the market is building single-unit laneway houses, and increasingly, it is building things like fourplexes and sixplexes.
So, what's standing in the way of more 10-, 20-, and 30-unit projects? It's the barriers and hurdles we have erected.
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