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.

  • The many forces shaping our cities

    Richard Florida has a three-part essay over on Bloomberg CityLab about the forces that are currently shaping American cities. In part three, he argues that this pandemic will likely accelerate many of the trends that were already underway — families will continue to like the suburbs and young people and businesses will continue to cluster in dominant global cities. At the same time, he argues that we will see a kind of “urban reset.” A window of opportunity where we just might be able to rebuild our cities to be more affordable, more inclusive, and more productive. Could this be the moment where we commit to transforming our suburbs into more walkable mixed-use communities? Could this crisis actually strengthen our cities, as I have argued before on the blog? At this point in time, the only thing I really know for sure is that most of our predictions will be wrong.

  • The problem of Erie Terrace (and why Craven Road has one really long fence)

    On the east side of Toronto is a north-south street called Craven Road. It runs from Queen Street in the south to Danforth Avenue in the north. It’s an odd street in that there are only homes on one side of it — the east side. The west side is fenced off. No garages. No laneway suites. Just one long fence separating Craven Road from the backyards belonging to the homes on neighboring Ashdale Avenue. Given that Craven Road is a real city street with things like services and a name, you might be wondering, as I did, why this condition exits. Surely the people on Ashdale Avenue would be better off if they took proper advantage of their “through lots.”

    What gives?

    Turns out there is a reason for this and it dates back to the beginning of the 20th century. Before 1923, Craven Road was actually called Erie Terrace. It began its life as a smaller laneway outside of the city and was initially home to a “shacktown.” The street was a kind of linear slum, housing new immigrants and providing a place for people to cheaply throw up whatever they could afford to build.

    For a variety of reasons, Erie Terrace eventually became a problem and the City decided that it would be best to widen the street from its varying 18 foot width to the then standard 33 feet. The widening work was authorized in 1911. But as is always the case, there were a few problems. Who would pay for it? The City would pay for a bit of it, but the expectation was that the residents along Erie Terrace would also chip in. And since Erie Terrace was technically a one-sided street, they were in effect being asked to pay double what was typical at the time. Usually the burden would get split across both sides of the street.

    There was also a socioeconomic question. The residents on Ashdale Avenue were thought to be wealthier than those on Erie Terrace and so they supposedly wanted the squalor out of their backyards. The City also had concerns that residents along Ashdale would use this double frontage to do wild and crazy things, such as build garages, sheds, and backyard cottages. Clearly there would be no room for such oddities after the widening.

    I’m not sure which problem proved to be the thorniest, but ultimately a solution was found. Erie Terrace would be widened, but the City would retain a small sliver of land on the west side of it and erect a wooden fence in perpetuity. This would keep both groups separate and ensure that the folks on Ashdale — who had contributed some of their land, but not any money — didn’t get use of the road. And it has remained this way for over a century.

    If you ask me, it seems silly to keep this fence up. This is an ideal street to infill with laneway suites and other missing middle-type housing. But I’m sure I’m not the first person to stumble upon this east end anachronism. For a more detailed history lesson on the Craven Road fence, click here.

  • Integral House sells for $18 million

    One of the most famous and important houses in Toronto, and in North America, just sold. It was reported last week in the Globe and Mail in an article called, “Integral House finds buyer amid wave of high-end Toronto deals.”

    Designed by Shim-Sutcliffe Architects, the 18,000 square foot Integral House was commissioned by mathematician and musician James Stewart. It was completed in 2009 at a cost that seems to vary widely depending on where I look online. But it did just sell for $18 million.

    For photos and drawings of the house, click here. The section is really interesting because of the way in which the house is built into the side of a ravine. The house is 5 storeys, but only 2 of these levels would be visible from the street.

    The article goes on to mention a bunch of other high-end transactions that were consummated during this pandemic, ranging from a $13 million home in Forest Hill to a $9 million condo in Yorkville. These are all positive signs for this pandemic market.

  • Reallocating urban space

    Back in March and April, the belief seemed to be that cities had lost their allure. Density had proven to be a bad thing and we were now all going to live in the country and spend our days working via Zoom. But as our cities begin to slowly reopen, something else seems to be taking place. In fact, the great irony of this pandemic is that it will probably strengthen our cities in the medium and long-term.

    We’re pedestrianizing our streets. (Above is a photo of King William Street in Hamilton that I took last week. London is similarly looking at pedestrianizing parts of Soho.) We’re encouraging restaurants to expand their patio footprints. We’re adding bicycle lanes faster than we ever have before here in Toronto. And we’re finally becoming a little less uptight about the public consumption of alcohol. This is among many other things.

    The reopening of our cities isn’t going to happen overnight. Some, if not all, will probably stumble as we find our way. But as unfortunate as this period of time is for most of us, it is forcing us to reconsider how life is lived in our cities and how we allocate urban space. Some of this will be temporary, but I suspect that a great deal of it will actually stick.

    We’ll then wonder, “why didn’t we do this sooner?”

    Photo: King William Street, Hamilton

  • Three-legged stool

    A good friend of mine, who is also in the industry, once described real estate development as a three-legged stool. In order to develop, you really need three things: expertise, capital, and a site (i.e. land). This probably seems fairly obvious. I mean, you need to know what you’re doing, you need the money to do it, and then you actually need a place to build. But as simple and as obvious as this may seem, there are barriers to entry. Real estate is a capital intensive industry. And despite what the general public seems to believe about the pockets of developers, most are raising outside capital.

    The thing about this three-legged stool is that you don’t necessarily need to have all of the legs at once, and in many cases you won’t. If you have two of them in place, it’s usually feasible to figure out and get the last one. For example, if you know what you’re doing (expertise) and you have a site (owned or “under control”), then presumably you have a development pro forma that makes some economic sense. And with those things, you generally should be able to find the capital that you need to execute on your project.

    I’ve also met people who have managed to build this three-legged stool starting with only one leg. They didn’t have much development experience or capital connections, but they learned enough to figure out how to value development land. They then went out and started knocking on doors, eventually putting together a development assembly. They then took this assembly to developers (people with expertise) and the stool eventually got built. Starting with only one leg just means you’re going to have to work harder to fill in the others.

    A one or two-legged stool won’t stay upright on its own. But hustle will hold it up temporarily while you figure out a creative way to attach the missing leg(s).

    Photo by John Boatile on Unsplash

  • How honest do buildings really need to be?

    What is the right way to do heritage preservation? How should you approach an addition to an existing building? I was reminded of this topic this week, which then reminded me of a post I wrote last summer when this issued flared up in Ottawa because of the “Chateau Laurier battle.” The takeaway from last year’s post was this: “We cannot recreate the past, only parody it.” Indeed, the Province of Ontario maintains that “legibility” is an important principle in the conservation of built heritage properties. People should be able to distinguish the new from the old. Don’t blur the distinction.

    I will also say that in architecture school they instil in you the ideas that buildings should be honest, they should reflect the current milieu, and that materials should be truthful. What this loosely means is that you want to use materials where they are most appropriate and you want to reveal their true nature. Don’t pretend that things are something they are not. i.e. Don’t be fake. At the same time, I very early on learned that most people don’t give a shit about the kind of nuanced and theoretical discussions that happen within architecture schools. They like what they like.

    And there’s a big segment of the market that wants buildings to look as they did a long time ago. They want tradition. They want historic. Or they at least want some sort of “transitional” style that sits somewhere between old and kind of new. They want architects like Robert A.M. Stern and Richard Wengle, both of which are extremely popular and talented. So really, who am I to judge? As most of you will know, I’m a modernist. I am more interested in the future than I am in the past. But I recognize that the past is important and should not be forgotten. How best to do that is up for debate.

  • Views from the Junction

    Shot on DJI Mavic Mini

  • The value of Champagne

    Westmount Gaurantee hosted a Champagne tasting event for its clients this evening. Obviously it took place over Zoom. It was a great event and I learned a few things about Champagne. As most of you will know, sparkling wine cannot be called Champagne unless it’s from Champagne, France — a region that, as of 2008, included about 76,000 acres of vineyards and 319 villages. But as I started thinking about this acreage, the developer in me couldn’t help but wonder: “How was the boundary for the Champagne region established? Is it based on unique soil conditions that can’t be found anywhere else in France and the world, or is this a way to artificially control the supply of Champagne and fix prices?”

    As you might imagine, the answer is complicated. (See the Champagne Riots of 1910-1911.) The viticultural boundaries of Champagne were legally defined in 1927. And the entire area is compromised of five wine-producing districts. But there have been revisions to this boundary. In 2008, the production zone was increased from 319 communes to 357. (I’m sure this was highly controversial.) And since the value of land is dependent on what you can do with it, this would have had a dramatic and overnight impact on land values. Yesterday you couldn’t apply a Champagne label, but today you can. According to this article from 2008, we are talking €5,000 a hectare to €1 million per hectare because of a simple boundary change. That is the value of “Champagne.”

    Photo by Lomig on Unsplash

  • Australia 108

    One of my favorite YouTube channels is the B1M. Apparently it is the most subscribed-to channel focused on construction. If you don’t already subscribe, you can do that over here.

    Below is a recent video about Australia 108 in Melbourne. It’s still under construction, but it is topped out and it is now the tallest building in the country at over 300m. That makes it a “supertall.”

    When you’re building this tall, it can make a lot of sense to segment and occupy portions of the building before construction is fully complete. Among other things, it helps to manage risk. And that’s exactly what they’ve done here.

    The contractor building Australia 108 is Multiplex. They also happen to be our construction management partner on Junction House. Except our project is a bit more boutique than Australia 108.

  • Zoomed out

    https://twitter.com/donnelly_b/status/1265740083447173120?s=20

    Joining a Zoom (or other video) meeting is as frictionless as opening up the calendar invite and clicking the link. No need to login or do much else, except maybe fiddle with the audio for a bit. “Can you hear me now?” The benefits to this are obvious. But if you’re Zoom (or another video conferencing company) there could be a slight problem: I don’t really care where that link is taking me, as long as it’s taking me to the meeting I was supposed to join 4 minutes ago. In other words, there aren’t really any network effects. The service doesn’t get any better for me as more people use it, because anybody can join the link that I send them. Benedict Evans recently made this argument, here, and he goes on to posit that video calls, like voice calls, are destined to become a commodity. All that will matter is how you package them up. Makes sense.