Brandon Donnelly

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.

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Category: design

  • What does Toronto want to be?

    So, what bold and uncomfortable 21st-century master plan should Toronto adopt? I don’t know exactly, but what I was getting at in my lead-up post is that it’s hard not to sometimes feel like Toronto is trying to run a 21st-century global city on a 19th-century Victorian street grid, surrounded by Houston.

    In the core of the city, we have narrow, generally 20-metre rights-of-way. Many of these east-west arteries are beautiful streets to walk on with fine-grained retail patterns, but the streets themselves have slow-moving streetcars in the middle two lanes and on-street parking on both sides. The result is streets that don’t move and are frustrating to navigate for all users: drivers, transit riders, and cyclists. It can take an hour to drive 10 km.

    Other major streets don’t have streetcars or much retail activity, but the land-use pattern reflects a bygone era. It doesn’t make sense to have only single-family housing on Toronto’s busiest arteries. It’s time for these streets to grow up. (To be fair, the City of Toronto is trying to achieve this with its new Major Streets policies, but the development economics do not make these changes feasible at scale.)

    As you move out of the core, Toronto’s major streets naturally widen along with the recency in which they were built. Now we have the opposite problem where we’re faced with “stroads” with little to no urbanity. Overall, it’s the result of a city that grew organically over time without the same kind of defined plan seen in cities like New York, Barcelona, and Paris (after it had already been built out).

    Here’s the thing: Toronto’s low-rise single-family era is over. Virtually the only single-family housing that gets built nowadays is when somebody demolishes an existing house and builds anew. The future is a uniformly higher-density city built on the backbone of robust transit, vehicular, and cycling networks; not a monocentric downtown that people commute to.

    So what might that mean exactly?

    To start, I believe it means getting our transit vehicles onto their own dedicated lanes, widening certain major streets (for the benefit of cars), shrinking and pedestrianizing others (for the benefit of human-scaled urbanism), carving through new major streets to fix connectivity gaps, and pricing congestion as a means of funding constant transit expansion. My fellow urbanists may not want to hear me advocate for the selective widening and creation of arterial roads, but we have to stop pretending that cars are going to disappear.

    Once the bones are in place, it’s then a matter of getting the land-use policies right and letting the private sector do what it does best — build for the future. Now, I don’t profess to know the exact combination of major street widths, one-way patterns, and whatever else should be done, but I do feel strongly that it’s time for a bold and uncomfortable 21st-century master plan for Toronto.

    What does Toronto want to be? We should host an international design competition and find out.

    Cover photo by Oles Borys

  • Toronto needs a bold and uncomfortable 21st-century master plan

    Earlier this week, I tweeted that Toronto needs a Haussmann moment where we make some bold and uncomfortable changes in order to set ourselves up to be a dominant 21st-century global city. I mentioned Haussmann because his work is perhaps the most notable, but that is just one example.

    In addition to Haussmann’s renovation of Paris (1853-1870), I was also thinking about the Commissioners’ Plan for New York City (1811), and Ildefons Cerdà’s grid system of octagonal blocks for Barcelona (1859), as well as some more contemporary examples.

    In recent years, Barcelona has revisited its grid system and pioneered a new set of “superblocks” that focus traffic along the periphery and create pedestrian-focused spaces on their interior.

    The common thread among these examples is that they all represent a grand master plan. In the case of Barcelona and New York, it was a plan that served to guide development as the city grew. And in the case of Paris, it was a destructive plan that went back and redid what was deemed to have not been working. (In thinking about this now, it’s probably best that I used Haussmann as the example in my tweet).

    Toronto has never had such a plan. We flirted with the City Beautiful movement at the beginning of the 20th century — a movement intent on beautifying and introducing monumental grandeur to our cities — but, not surprisingly, we ultimately saw it as a superfluous and frivolous spending exercise.

    Instead, Toronto has grown incrementally, becoming what I see as an accidental global city. We are no longer the ultra-conservative, deeply Protestant city that we once were, but at the same time, it’s hard not to feel like we have a grid and public realm that doesn’t reflect the city we have become today.

    Toronto needs a bold master plan. And over the coming weeks, I’ll put some of my ideas to paper. In the meantime, if you have any of your own, please feel free to share them in the comment section below.

  • Design solves problems

    A long time ago, I attended an architecture presentation that started with talking about cabover trucks. See example above. Cabover is the name for trucks where the cab sits above the front axle. This is different from more conventional trucks where the engine sits in front of the driver. Here you get more of a flat face. Again, see above.

    This truck style is credited to Viktor Schreckengost, who first came up with the design in 1932 and later patented it. And it’s a pretty big deal in the history of trucking because of the simple fact that this design shaved several feet off the length of the tractor.

    This meant something in the 1930s because, at the time, total truck lengths in the US were limited to 42 feet (12.8 m). So by minimizing the depth of the tractor, it created room for a bigger trailer. In building terms, Viktor had found a way to increase the ratio of rentable area to gross construction area.

    The point of this example in the presentation was to show that good design solves real problems and that this is how their firm approaches projects. They aim to create value. And I remember this really resonating with me, because it’s how I also like to think about design.

    Admittedly, there is an element of design that involves making things look good. That’s important too. But it’s linked to solving problems. For example, one thing you’ll often hear people say when talking about design is that things should look “intentional.” You want to feel that real thought was put into it.

    Arbitrary is bad. For some reason, it doesn’t look as good.

    Well, what could be more intentional than solving problems and creating value?

    Image: Wikipedia

  • Leslie Lookout Park

    This morning I rode out to Toronto’s new Leslie Lookout Park, which opened two weeks ago. I came down Cherry Street, crossing the new north bridge, and then I went all along Commissioners Street, crossing its new bridge.

    It’s great to see the Port Lands area continue to develop. Every time I’m down there, it feels more and more real — like an extension of the city. Now we just need to start developing within the blocks.

    If you find yourself at Leslie Lookout, make sure you locate Claude Cormier’s heart up in the tower. Claude’s firm CCxA was the landscape architect behind the project; but sadly, he passed away last year.

    Exactly 1 year before the opening of this park.

  • The Bentway Islands

    As many of you know, Toronto has a highly successful public space underneath the Gardiner Expressway called The Bentway. I have ice skated in this space during the winter and I have listened to hard techno in this space during the summer. It has become a public space anchor in the city. Ilana Altman and the team are doing great work. And this week, they just announced that Field Operations (New York) and Brook McIlroy (Toronto) have been hired to design a major expansion. Called The Bentway Islands, this next phase consists of three “islands,” totalling 11,500 m2 (~125,000 ft2).

    Here’s a map:

    And here’s what the spaces look like today:

    Both of these firms do fantastic work, and so I’m excited to see what they come up with. (Field Operations is the firm behind New York’s High Line.) But if I can offer two unsolicited (yet related) suggestions, they would be: 1) Let’s incorporate more commercial uses and 2) let’s aim for these three parcels to not actually feel like urban islands. Generally speaking, the spaces underneath highways aren’t the most desirable. They also tend to be surrounded by inhospitable urban environments. Stitching them in and creating continuity in the fabric of the city (existing example, here) is the best way to make the highway above more or less disappear.

  • The growth of branded residences

    A branded residence is, as the name suggests, a residential building with a known branded attached to it. Historically, these have tended to be hotel brands. But it really just needs to be any brand that people know, care about, and will pay a premium for. So it could also be a fashion brand, a car brand, or whatever else.

    This is a growing segment of the residential market. According to UK-based Savills, there were only 15 or so of these “schemes” in the 1990s (the UK uses scheme in lieu of project, which always sounds conniving to me), but by the end of this decade they expect the pipeline of branded residences to exceed over 1,200.

    I would also argue that projects designed by celebrated architects and/or designers are a form of branded residence. And this is not being captured in Savills’ number above.

    Whatever your definition, today, the branded residence capital of the world seems to be Dubai, which feels right. And the biggest brands, by what appears to be a long shot, are Four Seasons and Ritz-Carlton (hotel side), and YOO and Trump (non-hotel side). Here are the full rankings from Savills:

    This is an interesting part of the real estate business for a few reasons. One, it makes sense. A New Balance shoe that gets co-branded with Aimé Leon Dore unlocks additional value for both sides. ALD has a brand that certain people care about. So, of course the same would be true of real estate paired with the right brand.

    Two, it’s a growing market, and I think this is aided by the fact that development is an intensely local business — so it can be hard to grow a globally-significant brand on your own. Sometimes you just need to borrow someone else’s.

    And three, it’s usually a less risky approach to getting your name on buildings. Branded residences typically operate on a licensing model, which means developers pay for the right to use the brand. The brand may also capture some of the upside in the form of a percentage of sales. That’s less risky than putting up your own money.

  • I finally tried Apple Vision Pro

    I know I’m late to the party on this, but I finally tried Apple Vision Pro this weekend. I was in the Apple Store at the Toronto Eaton Center getting the battery replaced in my phone, so I decided to do a demo. And let me tell you — I was totally blown away. I messaged everyone I knew (after I got my phone back) and told them that they need to try it.

    To be clear, though, very few people right now want to actually buy this computing device. Initially, Apple was thinking that it would sell upwards of 800,000 units this year. But now it expects to sell somewhere closer to 400,000. Maybe. The device is too expensive, too bulky, and the use cases just aren’t there for someone to feel they need to buy it.

    I also found that, when I was looking at the world around me, I could tell I was looking at a video. It wasn’t exactly perfect. (Vision Pro creates a mixed-reality experience by recording the world around you and then playing it back to you.) But that’s okay. The hardware will get better. The price will come down. And the developer community will build a bunch of killer apps that nobody has even thought of yet.

    None of this changes the fact that the device is still an astonishing technical achievement. The eye tracking works perfectly. All of my hand gestures were flawlessly picked up. And the overall experience was entirely immersive — from 3D videos (recorded on regular iPhones) to a butterfly landing on my hand and a velociraptor flaring its nostrils right in front of me.

    What was most impactful to me is that I could easily imagine a future where all of this works. Is this a more exciting way to watch sports? Yes. I sat courtside and Lebron dunked in my face. Is this a better way to watch movies on a plane? By far. Will this be used to help build buildings and coordinate design & engineering disciplines? Yes, absolutely, among many other things.

    It is also easy to imagine how spatial computing is likely to dovetail with other innovations such as AI and blockchains. Mixed-reality or extended reality blurs the line between physical and digital. And in my mind, AI becomes the way in which we will want to interact with this new computing world. (It’s not easy to type on a virtual keyboard.)

    At the same time, digital artifacts will come to be viewed much differently when they’re all blended in. An NFT sitting in a cold wallet is going to feel a lot different than an NFT hanging in a fully immersive 3D gallery that is viewed by millions of people. This strengthens the case for blockchains, and the ownership of digital objects, products, and services.

    Maybe this is really far into the future. I don’t know. But regardless, if you haven’t already, I would encourage you to book a demo at your local Apple Store. However cool and great you think it will be, it will be better. I’m not suggesting you should buy one, but I am suggesting that you need to try it out and see a glimpse into the future.

    And if any of you are working on Apple Vision Pro software that is somehow connected to the design and construction industry, I would love to hear from you and learn more about what you’re up to. I have complete conviction that this will form the future of our industry. The best place to reach out is here.

  • Physical space is a funny thing

    It is often difficult to grasp. This is why when you look at an empty piece of land, it can sometimes be difficult to visualize actually fitting a building on it. And why when you look at an empty room, it’s common to think, “there’s no way that furniture will fit in here.” But in the end, it does fit.

    It also tends to be relative. Here in North America, it is common to argue over things like parking space dimensions and drive aisle widths. We’ll say things like, “well, people like their big cars.” But then you travel to Europe and you find streets like this:

    And this:

    The first is only marginally bigger than the width of a parking space in Toronto (2.6 meters). And the latter is only marginally bigger than the width of a typical two-way drive aisle (6 meters). So are these too small? Well, it depends on your perspective.

    If your basis of measurement is the size of cars, then these streets will seem too small. Cars also keep getting bigger, so you have this inflation factor to deal with. But if your basis of measurement is something else, such as walkability, then maybe they’re just right.

  • Kompotoi

    Portable toilets are needed on every construction site, and in lots of other places too. Generally speaking, though, they are not pleasant spaces. But that doesn’t seem to be the case in Switzerland. I just discovered a Swiss company called Kompotoi. They make high-quality portable toilets out of spruce, and they have made a commitment to composting as much human waste as possible.

    But the really unique feature that I had never seen before is that each toilet comes equipped with a bin of wood shavings (“litter”), which you are supposed to sprinkle over your poop once you’re done. This serves two important functions. One, it dries out the waste which greatly reduces any smells. I can attest that the toilet I used smelt just fine. And two, doesn’t it just look better to go into a toilet and see wood shavings as opposed to poop?

    This might be an instance of “yeah, only in Switzerland.” The retail price for their classic toilet model is CHF 5,966. That works out to about C$9,500 once you covert it to our painfully weak dollar.

  • Elevators in North America are broken

    It was not my intention to make this building code week on the blog, but for some reason that has happened. So let’s continue. Here is an interesting guest essay — about elevators — written by Stephen Smith for the New York Times.

    Stephen is the founder and executive director of a Brooklyn-based non-profit called the Center for Building in North America. And what they do is conduct research on building codes, specifically in the United States and Canada, and then advocate for reforms.

    Here’s what he thinks about elevators (taken from the above essay):

    Elevators in North America have become over-engineered, bespoke, handcrafted and expensive pieces of equipment that are unaffordable in all the places where they are most needed. Special interests here have run wild with an outdated, inefficient, overregulated system. Accessibility rules miss the forest for the trees. Our broken immigration system cannot supply the labor that the construction industry desperately needs. Regulators distrust global best practices and our construction rules are so heavily oriented toward single-family housing that we’ve forgotten the basics of how a city should work.

    Here’s how the US compares to a few European countries:

    Nobody is marveling at American elevators anymore. With around one million of them, the United States is tied for total installed devices with Italy and Spain. (Spain has one-seventh our population, 6 percent of our gross domestic product and fewer than half as many apartments.) Switzerland and New York City have roughly the same population, but the lower-rise alpine country has three times as many single-family houses as Gotham — and twice as many passenger elevators.

    And here’s a set of cost comparisons:

    Behind the dearth of elevators in the country that birthed the skyscraper are eye-watering costs. A basic four-stop elevator costs about $158,000 in New York City, compared with about $36,000 in Switzerland. A six-stop model will set you back more than three times as much in Pennsylvania as in Belgium. Maintenance, repairs and inspections all cost more in America, too.

    If you’re interested in this topic, I would encourage you to give the full article a read. It’s highly relevant to our ongoing discussions around missing middle housing. If cities, like Toronto, hope to build a lot more apartment buildings (especially smaller-scale ones), they are going to need affordable and plentiful elevator options.

    (Thanks to Michael Visser for sharing this article me.)