This morning I gave a presentation and participated in a design charrette that was organized by B+H Advance Strategy about the “mall of the future.” (See photo above.) It’s a 2-day event and I was only able to stick around for a few hours in the morning, but I think it’s great that B+H Architects takes the time to research and get a deeper level of understanding in the areas in which they work. Great design demands that.
The way the charrette was structured was around a handful of future scenarios. The idea being that it’s impossible to accurately predict the future, but it is possible to play out different possible futures to see what you get. I’m looking forward to seeing what the teams ultimately come up with at the end. I would also be really curious to hear your thoughts in the comment section below.
But before we decide on what malls are going to become in the future, it’s perhaps useful to think about how they got their start. The man largely credited with inventing the fully enclosed mall typology is a man by the name of Victor Gruen. He was a Vienna-born architect who moved to the US in 1938.
In the words of Malcolm Gladwell:
“Fifty years ago, Victor Gruen designed a fully enclosed, introverted, multitiered, double-anchor-tenant shopping complex with a garden court under a skylight—and today virtually every regional shopping center in America is a fully enclosed, introverted, multitiered, double-anchor-tenant complex with a garden court under a skylight. Victor Gruen didn’t design a building; he designed an archetype.”
The most interesting thing about this story though is that Gruen’s initial hope was that the mall would urbanize America’s suburbs. The garden court was supposed to be a kind of town square. And his broader vision included a mix of higher density uses surrounding the perimeter. But in reality the opposite happened: The mall helped to further suburbanize America.
However, as our malls begin to show their age (or die) and as we relearn to appreciate walkable urban environments, mall landlords are increasingly thinking mixed-use and higher density. And ironically, many of the plans probably don’t look all that dissimilar to Gruen’s original ideas. So maybe one possible future is simply the one that Gruen wanted to create all along.
Image: Kinetic Commerce
I have long told myself that if I ever needed to rent self-storage space, it would mean that I own too much stuff and that I need to get rid of some of my shit. But I recognize that there are many reasons why someone might need extra storage and I recognize that the storage market in the United States alone is something to the tune of $30 billion a year.
Here is an interesting case study about the storage company MakeSpace, which to-date has raised almost $60 million in equity funding. Their model is likely one that you’ve heard of or used before. Instead of you yourself going to the “self-storage” facility, they do the pickup and delivery. So they call themselves a logistics business, like Amazon, except that it works in reverse. Instead of you receiving deliveries, they take your stuff from your home back out to their warehouses.
Because of the route management software that they’ve been building over the last 4.5 years and because there’s enough density in the areas that they service, their pick-up and drop-off routes are apparently profitable. You no doubt need a certain amount of scale for that to happen, but they seem to have it. By the end of this year, they expect their reoccurring revenues to be in the $10′s of millions. That’s coming from the volumes of green boxes you see at the top of this post.
What’s particularly relevant for this audience are the built form and real estate implications. Because their customers aren’t physically visiting their facilities, they’ve been able to locate all of their distribution centers on the outskirts of the cities in which they operate. And because of this, their physical real estate costs are said to be less than 50% of traditional self-storage firms and they believe this number will trend to around 20% as volumes continue to grow.
All of this has me thinking about some of the other implications of the on-demand economy on cities and on real estate.
Image via Both Sides of the Table
This morning I gave a presentation and participated in a design charrette that was organized by B+H Advance Strategy about the “mall of the future.” (See photo above.) It’s a 2-day event and I was only able to stick around for a few hours in the morning, but I think it’s great that B+H Architects takes the time to research and get a deeper level of understanding in the areas in which they work. Great design demands that.
The way the charrette was structured was around a handful of future scenarios. The idea being that it’s impossible to accurately predict the future, but it is possible to play out different possible futures to see what you get. I’m looking forward to seeing what the teams ultimately come up with at the end. I would also be really curious to hear your thoughts in the comment section below.
But before we decide on what malls are going to become in the future, it’s perhaps useful to think about how they got their start. The man largely credited with inventing the fully enclosed mall typology is a man by the name of Victor Gruen. He was a Vienna-born architect who moved to the US in 1938.
In the words of Malcolm Gladwell:
“Fifty years ago, Victor Gruen designed a fully enclosed, introverted, multitiered, double-anchor-tenant shopping complex with a garden court under a skylight—and today virtually every regional shopping center in America is a fully enclosed, introverted, multitiered, double-anchor-tenant complex with a garden court under a skylight. Victor Gruen didn’t design a building; he designed an archetype.”
The most interesting thing about this story though is that Gruen’s initial hope was that the mall would urbanize America’s suburbs. The garden court was supposed to be a kind of town square. And his broader vision included a mix of higher density uses surrounding the perimeter. But in reality the opposite happened: The mall helped to further suburbanize America.
However, as our malls begin to show their age (or die) and as we relearn to appreciate walkable urban environments, mall landlords are increasingly thinking mixed-use and higher density. And ironically, many of the plans probably don’t look all that dissimilar to Gruen’s original ideas. So maybe one possible future is simply the one that Gruen wanted to create all along.
Image: Kinetic Commerce
I have long told myself that if I ever needed to rent self-storage space, it would mean that I own too much stuff and that I need to get rid of some of my shit. But I recognize that there are many reasons why someone might need extra storage and I recognize that the storage market in the United States alone is something to the tune of $30 billion a year.
Here is an interesting case study about the storage company MakeSpace, which to-date has raised almost $60 million in equity funding. Their model is likely one that you’ve heard of or used before. Instead of you yourself going to the “self-storage” facility, they do the pickup and delivery. So they call themselves a logistics business, like Amazon, except that it works in reverse. Instead of you receiving deliveries, they take your stuff from your home back out to their warehouses.
Because of the route management software that they’ve been building over the last 4.5 years and because there’s enough density in the areas that they service, their pick-up and drop-off routes are apparently profitable. You no doubt need a certain amount of scale for that to happen, but they seem to have it. By the end of this year, they expect their reoccurring revenues to be in the $10′s of millions. That’s coming from the volumes of green boxes you see at the top of this post.
What’s particularly relevant for this audience are the built form and real estate implications. Because their customers aren’t physically visiting their facilities, they’ve been able to locate all of their distribution centers on the outskirts of the cities in which they operate. And because of this, their physical real estate costs are said to be less than 50% of traditional self-storage firms and they believe this number will trend to around 20% as volumes continue to grow.
All of this has me thinking about some of the other implications of the on-demand economy on cities and on real estate.
Image via Both Sides of the Table
I spent this evening driving around Toronto with an architect friend of mine looking for laneway houses. (Late summer sunsets have a wonderful way of extending the day.)
I think most people would be surprised by how many of them are hidden away behind our streets. I think of laneways as a forgotten third layer behind our major avenues and smaller streets.
One of my favorite laneway houses, pictured above, is Armstrong Avenue by Taylor_Smyth Architects. It’s a bit unusual in that it’s exceptionally large for a laneway house (2,200 square feet). But that’s because the building was originally built as a dairy (1912).
What’s interesting about the house is that from the outside it looks rather nondescript. Okay, it looks raw and rundown. Here is a closer photo:
But then inside, it looks like this. Modern. Clean. Polished. And light-filled.
I’m not suggesting that this should or could become a repeatable model for laneway housing in Toronto. Again, it’s a unique circumstance. But I think contrast is an extraordinary poetic device. And in this case, it speaks to both the past and the future of this city.
I spent this evening driving around Toronto with an architect friend of mine looking for laneway houses. (Late summer sunsets have a wonderful way of extending the day.)
I think most people would be surprised by how many of them are hidden away behind our streets. I think of laneways as a forgotten third layer behind our major avenues and smaller streets.
One of my favorite laneway houses, pictured above, is Armstrong Avenue by Taylor_Smyth Architects. It’s a bit unusual in that it’s exceptionally large for a laneway house (2,200 square feet). But that’s because the building was originally built as a dairy (1912).
What’s interesting about the house is that from the outside it looks rather nondescript. Okay, it looks raw and rundown. Here is a closer photo:
But then inside, it looks like this. Modern. Clean. Polished. And light-filled.
I’m not suggesting that this should or could become a repeatable model for laneway housing in Toronto. Again, it’s a unique circumstance. But I think contrast is an extraordinary poetic device. And in this case, it speaks to both the past and the future of this city.
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