I tweeted this out last night:

blogTO then picked it up and it got quite a bit of engagement.

Some people, okay a lot of people, used it as an opportunity to be tongue in cheek and respond with things like: cheaply built condos, boarded up Starbuckses, Hooker Harvey's, Drake's house in the Bridle Path, the crumbling Gardiner Expressway, and that McDonald's at the northwest corner of Queen and Spadina (this one is no longer a contender for me now that they've gotten rid of their walk-up window).

Of course, there were also a lot of the usual suspects: The Sky Dome, The Gooderham Building (our miniature Flatiron Building), Casa Loma, The Royal Ontario Museum (specifically the expansion by Studio Libeskind), "New City Hall", The Royal York Hotel, Honest Ed's, The St. Lawrence Market, Robarts Library (University of Toronto), and a bunch of others that you might find displayed on the seat screen on your next Air Canada flight.

But I'd like to unpack the initial question a bit more. Because what does it really mean for something to be a symbol of a city? And is there an important distinction between the symbols that resonate with locals on a personal level and the symbols that get exported around the world as a city's brand and identity? Indeed, one of the criteria in most global city rankings is a prominent and recognizable skyline. Icons are important.

Let's consider an example. I agree entirely with Sean Marshall that "New City Hall" is a deeply symbolic building. Built in the early 1960s after decades of work, New City Hall was the outcome of an international design competition. And it was decidedly modern at a time when Toronto really wasn't that modern. Montréal was the biggest and most global city in the country and multiculturalism hadn't yet become a federal mandate. And so New City Hall symbolized our genuine ambitions to becoming something more.

But does the rest of the world care? If you were to ask somebody my question on the streets of Rio de Janeiro or Tokyo, what would they say? What would they remember? The thing about most tall buildings or other city symbols is that they become abstractions. They turn into pictures on social media -- like logos of a company. But maybe that's all we can reasonably ask of the world. Maybe all that really matters is that a symbol has local significance; it's then up to us to export it and tell that story to the rest of the world.

Late last month it was announced that the 30 St. Mary Axe tower in London–also affectionately known as the Gherkin–had gone into receivership. The reason was a mismatch of assets and liabilities, specifically currency losses:

A fund managed by IVG Immobilien AG, once Germany’s biggest real estate company, and London-based Evans Randall Ltd. bought the Foster + Partners-designed tower from reinsurer Swiss Re Ltd. for 600 million pounds ($1 billion) in 2007. Part of the IVG fund’s loan was in Swiss francs, which have gained about 63 percent against the pound over the last seven years, increasing the amount owed to the point that it breached rules on how much debt could be held against the property.

But what I found interesting while reading Bloomberg and Monocle, and learning about the loan default, is that there seems to be a lot of people in London that really don’t like this tower. Shaped like a giant pickle, it’s been the brunt of many lewd jokes, I’m sure.

However, within the architectural community, the Gherkin tower is generally revered as a pretty awesome piece of architecture. It’s a highly sustainable building that employs a number of natural ventilation and passive heating and cool techniques. It’s estimated to consume half the energy of a “typical” office building.

At the same time, the mixed feelings surrounding the Gherkin tower reminded me of all the controversy surrounding the Royal Ontario Museum’s Crystal addition here in Toronto. In fact, I just read somewhere that somebody rated it one of the top 10 ugliest buildings in the world.

And certainly, I hear lots of people criticize the building here in the city. Often, they mention how much wasted space the angular walls generate, which makes me wonder why we have so many people living in the suburbs when there are so many space conservationists among us.

Personally, I love the Crystal. And I also love the Gherkin. They’re big and bold and they piss a lot of people off. Good, I say.

I was reading Novae Res Urbis this morning and they had a piece on the 3 tower Mirvish + Gehry proposal in Toronto’s Entertainment District. It was talking about David Mirvish’s “sales pitch” to the Empire Club of Canada this week, an attempt to help overcome the criticism around the design, height and overall density of the project. The article ended by saying that the developer will be appealing to the OMB this January.

I know that I’m probably biased in this matter, but I fail to understand the concern around height and density - particularly since the site is 2 blocks from a subway station. Why are we - citizens and policy makers - so obsessed with building height? Good architecture and urban design involves a lot more than the number of floors. Can we not have more sophisticated conversations about built form rather than fixating ourselves on building height?

Secondly, whenever a building gets proposed in Toronto that attempts to, literally, step outside of the box it gets pegged as controversial. Take, for example, the Royal Ontario Museum by Daniel Libeskind. When people used to ask me what I thought of the crystal addition, I used to say that I was a fan simply because it was pissing off so many people. Love it or hate it, it’s architecture. The same can’t be said for a lot of the other stuff going up in this city. Why doesn’t mediocrity invoke the same response? It should.

So my issue is that we seem to be far more comfortable accepting banality than we are with accepting bold new changes like the Mirvish + Gehry proposal. And frankly, if we could actually pull off three 80+ storey towers, it would be down right impressive in this market. How many cities in the world have a real estate market robust enough to support this scale of development?

But this is not a post of unconditional support. I do have concerns.

I’m concerned that 4 heritage designated properties will need to be destroyed in order for this project to move forward. This makes me wonder: What’s the point of a designation if the building can still be demolished? I’m actually surprised that this topic hasn’t been getting its fair share of attention. Again, we’ve been more interested in talking about building height.

Further west along King Street, I have similar concerns with a development proposal that would demolish “restaurant row.” This a spectacularly successful - albeit touristy - restaurant strip and I would hate to see it go. It’s difficult to create this kind of fine grain retail experience from scratch. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I believe in development. I am a developer, after all. But I don’t believe we should be so quick to erase our history.