One of my developer friends — who I would say has similar design tastes to my own — once said to me, "If I like it [the design], I often assume that the general public won't." What he was getting at is that architects and designers often appreciate buildings and spaces for different reasons.
For us (if I can say this without the OAA sending me another legal letter), it is often about things like the intellectual rigour behind the work, the "honesty" of the materials, and the greater social and historic context, rather than just "this has nice curb appeal."
So with that, I'm now going to go out on a limb and suggest that these converted industrial towers in former East Berlin fall into the category of "probably not for everyone." Built in the 1950s by the German Democratic Republic (GDR) to process graphite, and later abandoned after the fall of the Berlin Wall, the property was eventually privatized in the 1990s to raise money for the state.
Then, between 2018 and 2021, architecture practice b+ — which has made a name for itself transforming old Brutalist buildings into super cool live-work spaces — reworked the interiors to create a workshop for itself.
The two industrial towers are 37.2 and 42.6 metres tall. And since their volumes reminded architect Arno Brandlhuber of the towers of San Gimignano, that became the project's name. The site area is 960 sqm, the usable floor area is around 300 sqm, and the entire property is for sale for €1,700,000. There's also future development potential!
I personally love the project. If Globizen were to have an office in Berlin, I'd want it to be here. But hey, what do you think?
Photos by Future Documentation
Yesterday afternoon and evening was a series of interesting discussions about city building in Toronto. First, I met with Jeff Ranson of Northcrest Developments for a tour of YZD. This is the 370-acre former Downsview Airport lands that is now the biggest urban redevelopment project in North America.
The tour also involved the two of us e-scootering around the property, which was timely given yesterday's post about not hating on them so much. Jeff is up next on Globizen's Global City Builder series, so stay tuned for that.
After that I was on Ben Myers' Toronto Under Construction podcast. After 80+ episodes, he finally invited me to join (wink wink). It was a great discussion with Rob Spanier of the Spanier Group and Ilana Altman of The Bentway. When the link comes out, I'll be sure to share it on the blog.
But one of the common threads across both discussions, that I'm now thinking about, is about how city builders can better provision for flexibility in new urban projects. Flexibility is an important feature because cities need to be able to grow and adapt over time.
Consider some of the older main streets in Toronto where it's very clear that the shop or restaurant you're in used to be someone's home that has now been converted. This is a very good outcome. It's the city iterating.
But this isn't always possible with newer developments. Condominium corporations, land use restrictions, and a variety of other factors can make this largely impossible. It's for this reason that I'm always drawn to things like live/work suites. They already contemplate a greater degree of flexibility.
Two specific examples that come to mind are the live/work suites fronting onto Fort York Boulevard (in CityPlace), which have over time become more retail oriented, and loft buildings like 90 Sumach Street, which is known for housing a lot of creative professionals.
Cities are at their best when they are able to change and adapt. So I think it behooves us to spend more time thinking about how we can encourage greater flexibility through different design approaches, flexible land use permissions, legal carveouts, and whatever else might be necessary to fully unlock the potential of our cities.
In my recent post about "takeaways from Japan" I spoke about a willingness to experiment and be playful with the built environment. I said that quite often people design homes around what they want, as opposed to what they think might broadly appeal to the market. So today, let's look at an example. Below is a site on the outskirts of Tokyo, about an hour from the center of the city. The architect — Kamakura Studio — describes it as being situated in a "new town" where about 75% of the residents have moved in within the past decade. And like Japan as a whole, problems of aging and population decline are expected in the future.
Using Google Maps to get rough dimensions, the site looks to be somewhere around 8m wide by 11m deep. So this is not a huge site compared to what you might find in the suburbs of other cities, but it's certainly a very workable set of dimensions. Also noteworthy is the fact that the area has no sidewalks. This is common throughout Tokyo. Ordinarily, this would imply a suburban mental model. But in practice, Tokyo's streets actually feel very pedestrian-friendly. And that's because they tend to be narrow and the entire city is oriented mostly around rail.
What was ultimately developed on the site is this (House F):
Totalling 169 m2, the first floor of the house serves as an office for the architect and as an open space for the local community. The firm opens up the space to people who may want to stop in for coffee (or just hang out) and for movie nights. There's even a "plant-sharing network" on the terrace where dozens of households supposedly contribute and participate. On the second and third floor of the house are the domestic quarters. Here there are two generous bedrooms, study spaces, and multiple balconies, one of which provides access to a rooftop terrace.
It's a highly livable house, but it's also designed to meet a particular set of ambitions. I mean, look at the above coffee window. And this is one of the really cool things about domestic architecture in Japan. (If any of you are familiar with how the zoning would work for a site like this, I'd love to understand that.)
Project images via Kamakura Studio