

Today, let's take a look at the Iconik Apartments in Prague.
Completed in 2023 and designed by edit!, this mid-rise project is split into two distinct volumes -- a 9-story one and an 8-story one. This was done to respond to both the surrounding context and the way that the parcels were divided on the site prior to redevelopment. In total, the building is 5,433 m2 and has 48 apartments.


There are 3 levels of below-grade parking, which are accessed via a single parking elevator (pictured above). Based on the one example parking plan provided (which has 13 spaces), I'm guessing the project has somewhere around ~39 total parking spaces (13 x 3). This is a higher parking ratio (39/48 = 0.81) than I would have expected for what looks to be a central and urban location.
The color of the traffic coating in the garage is nice, though.


The lobby is simple. It contains one elevator and one staircase running up the building. I like how prominent and accessible they made the latter. It encourages you to take the stairs if you live on one of the lower floors.

Above is what one of these lower floors might look like. There are two dual-aspect apartments on either end of the plate, meaning they have windows facing both the street and the rear courtyard. There are also a handful of studio apartments facing this same courtyard.

Finally, above is what the outdoor spaces look like for the penthouses at the top. The clear heights appear a little low, but presumably they were working to an overall building height.
I like studying this scale of project because it is a housing type that we should be building more of in our cities. So it is helpful to see how others are doing it. In the case, there are a number of obvious takeaways: no onerous loading/servicing requirements on the ground floor, a single parking elevator in lieu of a space-consumptive ramp (though less parking would would be even more ideal), and a single means of egress throughout the building.
If you're looking to build at this scale, these are good places to start.
Drawings/Photos: edit! and BoysPlayNice


This is a photo of Junction House that I took this morning after our weekly construction meeting. The team is currently preparing for the first concrete pour of level 4 (each floor has been split up into three pours). We're now flying our forms, which means that we're able to move a lot faster. This is the exciting part of a new build mid-rise like Junction House. The underground garage part is like watching paint dry.
We're scheduled to be topped out by this summer, so expect some gratuitous view photos on the socials.
Earlier this week I saw the Chief Planner of Toronto, Jennifer Keesmaat, tweet this out:
New buildings shouldn’t maximize the envelope prescribed by guidelines, but employ creative designs within it. pic.twitter.com/l7axVB4Hke
— jennifer keesmaat (@jen_keesmaat) March 3, 2016
//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js
I responded with the below quote retweet because I figured I should probably devote a blog post to this topic and not just a tweet.
— Brandon G. Donnelly (@donnelly_b) March 3, 2016
//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js
Now, I don’t know for sure, but I am guessing that her tweet was in response to the criticism from architects and developers that Toronto’s design guidelines are creating homogenous architectural outcomes. Some people – and I’ve written about this before on ATC – believe they’re too prescriptive.
So today I’d like to talk about why playing creatively within the guidelines/zoning envelope, particularly at the mid-rise scale, is a lot easier said than done.
Generally speaking, the value of land is dependent on what you can do with it or, in this case, what you can build on it.
If all you could do was plant things on it, then the value of the land would be correlated with crop yields. If on the other hand you could build a building, it would be correlated, at least in theory, with the amount of space you could build and the rents you could charge for that space.
Of course, this isn’t a perfect science. That’s why I said “in theory.”
Landowners obviously want to maximize the value of their asset when it comes time to sell. So they, along with their brokers, will naturally try and stretch what is possible with the land. Why else do you think the best neighborhoods seem to magically grow new boundaries?
When you combine this with the fact that mid-rise buildings are inherently less efficient to build and with the fact that their smaller size creates diseconomies of scale, it can be exceptionally difficult to find development sites where the numbers make any sort of financial sense. That is, even if you “maximize the envelope” and push rents or sale prices.
So, with all due respect, not maximizing the envelope is almost unthinkable, unless you somehow managed to get a bargain on the land.
Many of you will likely respond in the comments saying that all of this is simply a result of real estate developers being greedy capitalist pigs. But what we are talking about is no different than in any other competitive business environment.
Developers rent and sell products – albeit products that take an incredibly long time to make and bring to market. To make those products, there are a many costs, ranging from the cost of land to the cost of drawings. But hopefully within all of those numbers sits a profit margin that makes sense given the amount of work and risk that the developer has taken on.
Put differently, telling developers not to maximize the envelope is like telling a pizza maker to throw out 10-15% of her dough before she makes every pizza – even though she already (over)paid in full for the dough.
If you’ve ever created a development pro forma, you’ll know that it’s not easy getting the numbers to work when you’re operating in a competitive market. This is not a knock against creative design. Trust me, I am a design snob. This is just business.