One of the big housing trends that we have seen across North America over the last several years is the push to allow greater supply in low-rise neighbourhoods.
Here in Toronto, this has come through a well-known program called Expanding Housing Options in Neighbourhoods (or EHON), which I believe launched around 2020. But you can find countless similar programs in other cities.
Salt Lake City, for example, is currently looking at updating its single-family exclusive zoning to allow for "gentle infill opportunities" on smaller lots. The zones under consideration cover 77% of the land zoned for residential in SLC. And interestingly enough, this program is also called Expanding Housing Options.

In their case, they are proposing to create a new definition for "Small Lot Dwellings," which would, among other things, reduce the minimum lot area per dwelling to 2,000 sf, reduce the number of required off-street parking spaces from 2 to 1 per dwelling, and allow up to four homes per lot via fourplexes and townhomes.
One of the things that I found interesting about their proposed policies is that they seem to explicitly encourage "sideways" multiplexes and row houses like this:


This starts to tell you something about the scale of SLC's urban fabric, even though there are no dimensions on this conceptual site plan. These are big lots.
Despite sometimes having the same moniker, cities are responding to their urban contexts in different ways. SLC uses explicit density math: at least 2,000 sf of site area per dwelling. Whereas Toronto increasingly relies on built-form standards: here's the envelope you can build, if you can fit a fourplex within it (or a sixplex in certain wards), go for it. And don't worry about parking.
If Toronto mandated one parking space per dwelling unit, virtually no multiplexes would ever get built in the city. Our lot sizes simply don't allow for it. Moving away from the car is also the only way that Toronto will be able to continue to grow and scale up.
Despite these local nuances, the overall ambition remains the same. Low-rise neighbourhoods across North America are being asked to house more people on the same amount of land, and that's a positive step forward.
Cover photo by Ashton Bingham on Unsplash
Map and planning diagrams from Salt Lake City Planning Division

John Sugden (1922-2003) was one of the most important Utah architects of the 20th century. Born in Chicago in 1922, he studied at the Illinois Institute of Technology (IIT) under the legendary Mies van der Rohe, and worked at Mies's firm from 1945 to 1952 before moving to Utah.
For those who may not be familiar, Mies is a big deal in the architectural community. Some of his most noteworthy projects include the Farnsworth House (which hosted a 100th anniversary collaboration between Braun and the late Virgil Abloh in 2021); the Barcelona Pavilion (and its accompanying chair); Crown Hall at IIT (which is high on my list of buildings to visit); the Seagram Building in New York; and, of course, the Toronto-Dominion Centre complex.
Sugden moved to Utah in 1952. He would then spend the rest of his career defining what the International Style — a major architectural movement that dominated modernism from the 1920s to the 1970s — could be in a mountain context, while educating the next generation of architects at the University of Utah's Graduate School of Architecture.
His first major project in Utah was a house for his mother: the Roberta Sugden House in Salt Lake City (1955). It is a classic steel-and-glass structure that takes obvious cues from the Farnsworth House but that was adapted to the Utah landscape. Today, it remains an icon of Mid-Century Modernism in the city.
His own home and studio followed in 1984. Referred to as "The Glass Cube," or the Mountain House Studio, it is located in Park City (just down the street from Parkview Mountain House in Summit Park). A perfect 33 x 33 x 33 foot cube, the home marks an important turning point for architecture and design in the area.


Real estate may be local, but a lot of markets appear to be correlated. I felt that way this past summer when I was meeting with developers in Paris and I continue to feel this way when I read articles about other markets. Here's a recent one from Building Salt Lake talking about the state of Utah's multi-family market.
Based on the article, cap rates appear to be in the mid-4s for newish product, which is too low right now:
Investors aren’t jumping at the 4.6 cap deals they can typically find in Utah today, she added, when they could get over 5.5 in other major markets.
“Salt Lake, a 4.6 cap, I personally think it’s a little mispriced relative to where else we can put our money,” Schultz said.
This means that there aren't the asset trades to support new development. To justify ground-up development, developers need to see a positive spread between their development yield and the exit cap — one that compensates them for the additional risk of construction. If that spread isn't there, or if it's unclear what it might actually be, development shuts off.
Rents and values coming down also doesn't help:
Back in 2022, which was the peak of the market, you could underwrite double-digit rent growth on a typical 250-apartment deal Downtown. Now, he said, “we’re seeing that effective rents down about 8.25%.”
Overall multifamily values are down 26%, King said, though he added that’s not indicative of every single project or every deal. He also said that decline came after four years of record supply and double-digit rent growth.
What should be clear from these excerpts is that Salt Lake City is not at the point in the cycle where developers are jumping to deliver new ground-up multi-family product. They're at the point in the cycle where firms are looking and hoping to buy distressed assets below replacement cost.
One of the big housing trends that we have seen across North America over the last several years is the push to allow greater supply in low-rise neighbourhoods.
Here in Toronto, this has come through a well-known program called Expanding Housing Options in Neighbourhoods (or EHON), which I believe launched around 2020. But you can find countless similar programs in other cities.
Salt Lake City, for example, is currently looking at updating its single-family exclusive zoning to allow for "gentle infill opportunities" on smaller lots. The zones under consideration cover 77% of the land zoned for residential in SLC. And interestingly enough, this program is also called Expanding Housing Options.

In their case, they are proposing to create a new definition for "Small Lot Dwellings," which would, among other things, reduce the minimum lot area per dwelling to 2,000 sf, reduce the number of required off-street parking spaces from 2 to 1 per dwelling, and allow up to four homes per lot via fourplexes and townhomes.
One of the things that I found interesting about their proposed policies is that they seem to explicitly encourage "sideways" multiplexes and row houses like this:


This starts to tell you something about the scale of SLC's urban fabric, even though there are no dimensions on this conceptual site plan. These are big lots.
Despite sometimes having the same moniker, cities are responding to their urban contexts in different ways. SLC uses explicit density math: at least 2,000 sf of site area per dwelling. Whereas Toronto increasingly relies on built-form standards: here's the envelope you can build, if you can fit a fourplex within it (or a sixplex in certain wards), go for it. And don't worry about parking.
If Toronto mandated one parking space per dwelling unit, virtually no multiplexes would ever get built in the city. Our lot sizes simply don't allow for it. Moving away from the car is also the only way that Toronto will be able to continue to grow and scale up.
Despite these local nuances, the overall ambition remains the same. Low-rise neighbourhoods across North America are being asked to house more people on the same amount of land, and that's a positive step forward.
Cover photo by Ashton Bingham on Unsplash
Map and planning diagrams from Salt Lake City Planning Division

John Sugden (1922-2003) was one of the most important Utah architects of the 20th century. Born in Chicago in 1922, he studied at the Illinois Institute of Technology (IIT) under the legendary Mies van der Rohe, and worked at Mies's firm from 1945 to 1952 before moving to Utah.
For those who may not be familiar, Mies is a big deal in the architectural community. Some of his most noteworthy projects include the Farnsworth House (which hosted a 100th anniversary collaboration between Braun and the late Virgil Abloh in 2021); the Barcelona Pavilion (and its accompanying chair); Crown Hall at IIT (which is high on my list of buildings to visit); the Seagram Building in New York; and, of course, the Toronto-Dominion Centre complex.
Sugden moved to Utah in 1952. He would then spend the rest of his career defining what the International Style — a major architectural movement that dominated modernism from the 1920s to the 1970s — could be in a mountain context, while educating the next generation of architects at the University of Utah's Graduate School of Architecture.
His first major project in Utah was a house for his mother: the Roberta Sugden House in Salt Lake City (1955). It is a classic steel-and-glass structure that takes obvious cues from the Farnsworth House but that was adapted to the Utah landscape. Today, it remains an icon of Mid-Century Modernism in the city.
His own home and studio followed in 1984. Referred to as "The Glass Cube," or the Mountain House Studio, it is located in Park City (just down the street from Parkview Mountain House in Summit Park). A perfect 33 x 33 x 33 foot cube, the home marks an important turning point for architecture and design in the area.


Real estate may be local, but a lot of markets appear to be correlated. I felt that way this past summer when I was meeting with developers in Paris and I continue to feel this way when I read articles about other markets. Here's a recent one from Building Salt Lake talking about the state of Utah's multi-family market.
Based on the article, cap rates appear to be in the mid-4s for newish product, which is too low right now:
Investors aren’t jumping at the 4.6 cap deals they can typically find in Utah today, she added, when they could get over 5.5 in other major markets.
“Salt Lake, a 4.6 cap, I personally think it’s a little mispriced relative to where else we can put our money,” Schultz said.
This means that there aren't the asset trades to support new development. To justify ground-up development, developers need to see a positive spread between their development yield and the exit cap — one that compensates them for the additional risk of construction. If that spread isn't there, or if it's unclear what it might actually be, development shuts off.
Rents and values coming down also doesn't help:
Back in 2022, which was the peak of the market, you could underwrite double-digit rent growth on a typical 250-apartment deal Downtown. Now, he said, “we’re seeing that effective rents down about 8.25%.”
Overall multifamily values are down 26%, King said, though he added that’s not indicative of every single project or every deal. He also said that decline came after four years of record supply and double-digit rent growth.
What should be clear from these excerpts is that Salt Lake City is not at the point in the cycle where developers are jumping to deliver new ground-up multi-family product. They're at the point in the cycle where firms are looking and hoping to buy distressed assets below replacement cost.
By the 1980s, modernism had entered into a mid-life crisis in urban settings. Architects and designers were beginning to reject its austerity and lack of ornamentation in favor of a new movement: Postmodernism.
But in the Wasatch Mountains, and outside of perhaps only Aspen, the International Style had yet to truly make its mark. Mountain homes simply did not look like this; they were heavy and rustic, and they had gabled roofs. Sugden changed that. His home/studio was the opposite of this: light, transparent, flat-roofed, and industrial in its orientation.
It's also worth mentioning that the construction of the Glass Cube roughly aligns with the rebirth of Park City. By the early 1950s, it was a dying ghost town in the mountains. Many of the silver mines that had made it a wealthy place at the end of the 19th century had already shuttered, and the city was without an economic purpose.
The first ski operations opened in 1963 under the banner of Treasure Mountain Resort. However, it was a makeshift operation, and it would not be until 1971 that Aspen-developer Edgar Stern would acquire Treasure and transform it into Park City Mountain Resort.
By 1974, he had successfully lured the US Alpine Ski Team to the city. And by 1981, he had moved on to even grander ambitions with the opening of his latest project down the street: Deer Valley Resort. It was also around this time (1982) that Toronto-based Noranda stopped all work and closed the last mining operations in the city.
Then came Sugden's modernist Glass Cube in 1984.
Today, the Summit Park area is filled with countless new and under-construction modern homes, designed by award-winning firms such as Klima Architecture and Brach Design. No two homes are the same, and there's a palpable willingness to experiment. It feels like an architectural playground, and I like to think that it all started with John Sugden's simple glass cube.
Cover photo by Saul Flores on Unsplash
By the 1980s, modernism had entered into a mid-life crisis in urban settings. Architects and designers were beginning to reject its austerity and lack of ornamentation in favor of a new movement: Postmodernism.
But in the Wasatch Mountains, and outside of perhaps only Aspen, the International Style had yet to truly make its mark. Mountain homes simply did not look like this; they were heavy and rustic, and they had gabled roofs. Sugden changed that. His home/studio was the opposite of this: light, transparent, flat-roofed, and industrial in its orientation.
It's also worth mentioning that the construction of the Glass Cube roughly aligns with the rebirth of Park City. By the early 1950s, it was a dying ghost town in the mountains. Many of the silver mines that had made it a wealthy place at the end of the 19th century had already shuttered, and the city was without an economic purpose.
The first ski operations opened in 1963 under the banner of Treasure Mountain Resort. However, it was a makeshift operation, and it would not be until 1971 that Aspen-developer Edgar Stern would acquire Treasure and transform it into Park City Mountain Resort.
By 1974, he had successfully lured the US Alpine Ski Team to the city. And by 1981, he had moved on to even grander ambitions with the opening of his latest project down the street: Deer Valley Resort. It was also around this time (1982) that Toronto-based Noranda stopped all work and closed the last mining operations in the city.
Then came Sugden's modernist Glass Cube in 1984.
Today, the Summit Park area is filled with countless new and under-construction modern homes, designed by award-winning firms such as Klima Architecture and Brach Design. No two homes are the same, and there's a palpable willingness to experiment. It feels like an architectural playground, and I like to think that it all started with John Sugden's simple glass cube.
Cover photo by Saul Flores on Unsplash
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