Tag: architecture

• Learning from Melbourne

  Earlier this week my good friend Gabriel Fain emailed me a bunch of photos from his recent trip to Melbourne. Gabriel and I went to architecture school together here in Toronto and we often go back and forth on city building issues.

  Here are the photos he sent me of Bourke Street in Melbourne:

  

  

  The comparison he drew in his email was to that of Bloor Street in Toronto, except with a few major differences: Bourke Street is pedestrian only (except for a tram running down the middle of it). It has no curbs. There’s lots of inviting seating. And the connecting cross street laneways are fully activated. He then ended by saying that "Toronto is light years behind Melbourne and Sydney in the terms of the quality of the public space.“ 

  I replied and asked if I could turn his email into an ATC post. He responded by saying that he was hoping I would, and then sent me another photo – this time of one of the laneways:

  

  Melbourne’s laneways and arcades are celebrated around the world. What was once just residual space, became a catalyst for the revitalization of the city’s central business district in the 1990s and a major tourist destination. But all it really took was a change in thinking. It took somebody to believe that the space used for garbage collection, could also be used for a thriving culture of intimate al fresco dining.

  In Toronto, I think we’re headed in the right direction in terms of our thinking, but that we’re not yet being bold enough. The recent revitalization of Market Street in my neighborhood (St. Lawrence) is a wonderful example of putting pedestrians first and a wonderful street overall. Like Bourke Street, it also doesn’t have curbs (this is how you know pedestrians matter). But it was also a prime candidate for a pedestrian-only street. Especially given that Market Lane to the north is already one (though in desperate need of renewal). 

  For a number of reasons though, pedestrian-only streets are difficult to accept here in Toronto. I’ve been shot down many times in real estate meetings for arguing that we should have them in our city. Oftentimes people say it’s because of our harsh climate. But in my view, that’s all the more reason to have them. When the weather is nice, we should be enjoying our public spaces to the fullest. Why only build to the worst case scenario? Plus, they work in Scandinavia.

  We’ve also done it before. In the early 1970s (when I wasn’t around), a portion of Yonge Street was piloted as a pedestrian-only mall – a remarkably forward-thinking achievement for that era of city building. So I’m confident that it can be done and that we’ll one day do it again.

  2014.08.06

• What use could driverless cars serve beyond just transport?

  

  Here’s further evidence that technology is starting to infiltrate into many other industries, including architecture. London-based architect and designer Pernilla Ohrstedt is currently working on an exhibition for Dezeen and MINI Frontiers that will architecturally visualize the 3D data that driverless cars collect in order to navigate around.

  I had never thought of this before, but as a byproduct of driverless cars, we’re about to start collecting detailed replicas of all of our cities – well beyond the static images we currently have with Google Streetview. In order to navigate by themselves, driverless cars are constantly scanning their surroundings to create a “point cloud” replica of the built environment. This point cloud basically tells the car where they are, where they should drive, and what obstacles might be around.

  It could look something like this:

  

  Already there are firms like ScanLAB emerging to provide 3D scanning, publishing, and visualization services. But this is obviously just the tip of the iceberg. I can only imagine what innovation will emerge from the passive collection of all this data once driverless cars become commonplace in our cities.

  As one example, it could be a way for us to systematically measure the correlation between the qualities of a street and the vibrancy of its street life. Is there a perfect width? An ideal traffic volume? A right scale? All of this data could make city building more of a science (and perhaps less political).

  My hope though is that this data would be open and accessible to all, so that clever entrepreneurs could build on top of it.

  What are some of your ideas?

  Images: Dezeen

  2014.08.04

• What are the most compelling reasons for someone to become an architect now?

  Since I’ve talked a lot before about the profession of architecture and the future of it, I thought I would share this recent interview with Mark Wigley from Surface Magazine (May 2014). Since 2004, Wigley was the Dean of Columbia University’s Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation. But he’s now stepping down and this was his exit interview.

  The first question he was asked was: 

  What are the most compelling reasons for someone to become an architect now?

  I actually think that there’s never a compelling reason to be an architect. The decision is irrational, and that irrationality is an enormous and precious asset. Architecture is full of romantics who think that even relatively small changes to the built environment create the aspiration for a better society. It sounds hokey, but there is in every architect the thought that things could be better. This is a kind of professional optimism. And that leads to an expertise in entering situations in which the dynamics are unclear. Architects are only ever called into a situation when it’s impossible. If it’s possible, you invite somebody with a toolbox who can give answers. You call the architect in when it’s not clear what the question even is. 

  The line I really like is the one I highlighted in bold above: “…there is in every architect the thought that things could be better.”

  Wigley is talking about it in a kind of romantic and idealistic way, but I don’t think it necessarily needs to be that way. The optimistic belief that things could be better, that things could be improved, is a powerful notion. In my view, it’s what drives entrepreneurship and that happens to be our most powerful economic engine.

  I actually think there are a number of parallels between architecture and entrepreneurship. In school, architects are indeed taught to enter into situations where “the dynamics are unclear.” It’s about taking an idea, developing it, and trying to figure out what it could become.

  Then, once you’ve poured your heart and soul into that idea, you get up in front of everyone and you pitch it. It’s your job to convince everyone that, yes, the way you’ve developed your idea is in fact the right way. Sometimes you get shot down. And other times you don’t. But you just have to take the risk.

  Click here to download the full PDF of Mark Wigley’s interview.

  2014.07.21

• The impression you are leaving

  

  “Toronto is a city that has long struggled to make any sort of impression on the imagination.”

  That is how Monocle correspondent Christopher Frey started his recent architectural feature on Toronto’s iconic City Hall. To watch the video click here. It’s about 5 minutes long.

  As a born and raised Torontonian who loves this city, I absolutely hate that sort of introduction. But at the same time, it doesn’t surprise me. Growing up in this city, there were always the haters. However, I think it’s important to keep 2 things in mind.

  Firstly, Toronto has gone through a dramatic transformation over the last decade or so. In fact, I recently had a friend say to me: “Brandon, 10 years ago you told me that Toronto was going to be a super cool global city. I didn’t believe you then. But you were right.” This is what I was getting at in my Guardian Cities piece when I talked about how people are becoming noticeably more passionate about this city. (I actually wrote about what my friend said but they edited that part out.)

  Secondly, if you’ve ever read Seth Godin’s book All Marketers Are Liars, you might remember this line:

  “We believe what we want to believe, and once we believe something, it becomes a self-fulfilling truth.” -Seth Godin

  — Brandon G. Donnelly (@donnelly_b)

  July 17, 2014

  To illustrate what he means by this, Godin uses the example–among many others–of Riedel wine glasses. Riedel is a high end glassware company founded on the belief that every type of wine needs its own unique glass shape. And indeed, their customers believe that the right glass makes all the difference in terms of how their wine will taste. That’s why they buy them.

  However, when you blindfold those same people, they are no longer able to tell the difference between a Riedel wine glass and some cheap alternative. The wine all of a sudden tastes the same. What that tells us is that when we believe something is supposed to be better, we actually experience it differently. You could say that we’re actually lying to ourself.

  And I’ve thought about this same phenomenon when it comes to cities. When people visit a place like New York they’re supposed to like it. That’s what everybody tells them. New York is great. You’ll love it. But ultimately, that “supposed to” changes how people experience the city.

  Which is why when Toronto gets introduced as being bland and banal I get upset. Not only because I disagree, but because I know it’s creating a “supposed to” in somebody’s mind. And that’s not the story we should be telling as a city.

  Image: Wikipedia

  2014.07.18

• Mirvish + Gehry gets nod from City Council

  

  Last week Toronto City Council voted to support planning staff’s recommendation to approve the landmark Mirvish + Gehry development on King Street West in the Theatre District. 

  The revised design now includes 2 towers (as opposed to 3) at 82 and 92 storeys tall. As a result of this change, 3 of the 5 existing buildings on the site will now be retained. I think this represents a good balance between (historic) preservation and progress.

  If you’re interested in a bit more of the backstory, Toronto Life published an article today called David Mirvish on the Edge. It talks about his father (Ed Mirvish), his upbringing, and how he got into the real estate development business.

  I thought you all might enjoy it.

  Image: Projectcore

  2014.07.15

• The importance of storytelling

  

  Last night I was out for drinks with a friend of mine who runs an architecture firm in the city called Reflect Architecture. We started talking about the importance of marketing and storytelling in city building and then got onto the topic of Danish architect Bjarke Ingels and his firm BIG.

  At only 39, Bjarke Ingels has become a celebrity architect at a relatively young age. He’s working on projects all over the world from Vancouver to New York to Shenzhen. And he describes his work as a combination of “shrewd analysis, playful experimentation, social responsibility and humour.” But what has always interested me about BIG is their use of dead, simple, diagrams (see above for an example).

  A diagram is just a graphic way of communicating information. And lots of architects use them as a design tool. But what BIG does is use them to create a narrative around each and every project. If you look at their website you’ll see that every project is presented using a series of diagrams that outline the process used to arrive at the final design. You’ll never just see the final product. You always see the steps involved. Click here for an example from Vancouver.

  What’s powerful about this approach is that it demonstrates that there’s a logic behind every design outcome (even if sometimes it might be contrived or done after the fact). It’s not form for the sake of form; it’s form as a result of the uses in the building, the urban context, and so on. 

  But at the same time, I think it taps into a deeper psychological phenomenon: people love stories. In fact, research shows that when we’re told stories, our brains actually become more active. We pay closer attention.

  I mean, just think about how much people enjoy hearing about rags-to-riches stories. Nobody likes to talk about some rich person who was born rich. That’s not an exciting or interesting story. And it changes how we perceive that person. We want to hear about that guy or girl who came over from a war torn country and built an empire from nothing. Now that’s a good story.

  What I’m getting at is that I think a big part of Bjarke’s success has come from his ability to masterfully storytell and market both himself and his projects. Architecture schools don’t usually teach you how to market and sell; they teach you how to design. But the reality is that you need to sell. And storytelling is a great way to do that.

  If you liked this post, I recommend you check out this TED talk by Bjarke Ingels and this short interview with marketer Gary Vaynerchuk where he talks about how he used storytelling to sell wine.

  2014.07.11

• The birth of tall buildings

  As an architecture and city lover, it’ll probably surprise you that I’ve never been to Chicago. I think it may have to do with the fact that it has always felt like a sister to Toronto–another Great Lakes city of comparable size. And when you travel, you often want something novel.

  But that’s no excuse. 

  Thankfully I’m happy to report that last week I booked a trip to Chicago for this August. I’ll be there for an extended long weekend. But since it’s for a bachelor party, it remains to be seen how much archi-touring I’ll actually get a chance to do.

  Chicago is a hugely important city in the world of architecture and city building. From Frank Lloyd Wright to Mies van der Rohe to Louis Sullivan, the city has deep architectural roots.

  When most people think of skyscrapers they think of New York. But in actuality, if there’s one city that gave birth to the modern skyscraper I would argue that it was Chicago. And it was made possible by the steel industry.

  Before the late 19th century, tall buildings were largely built with their exterior walls supporting most of the loads. This meant that the taller you went, the thicker the walls had to be near the bottom of the building. This is why older buildings often feel so heavy and permanent.

  But when structural steel became widely available, a new building form was created. All of a sudden architects and builders could create relatively light weight structural steel frames to support the building. The skin, or outside of the building, was no longer carrying the weight.

  That made images like this possible:

  

  For most of us today, this building under construction looks fairly typical. First the structure goes up and then it gets clad with its window and exterior skin. But at the time, this sort of construction technique–with the 3rd and 4th floors still unenclosed and the upper floors finished–would have blown people’s minds. It was an entirely new way of building.

  Steel framed buildings removed the technical limitations of building tall and also opened up entirely new possibilities for architectural expression–such as the all glass building. Today, there’s a lot of criticism around our glass buildings. But it’s interesting to note that it started as the futuristic dream of architects.

  

  Freed from the technical limitations of load-bearing exterior walls, architects such as Mies van der Rohe began dreaming of transparent, all glass buildings. For them it represented modernity. It was the future. Above is an early charcoal sketch of that dream by Mies.

  But our fixation with glass and transparency has never been because of environmental efficiency. It was about light, transparency and feelings of modernity. So as sustainability becomes increasingly critical, we should remember that there’s still lots of innovating left for us to do.

  Art and architecture has always been a representation of the time and era in which it was created–which is one of the reasons I’m so interested in technology today. It’s our era. It’s our “structural steel”. And it’s going to impact our cities.

  When posterity looks back on us and what we’ve done, I’m sure that will be clear.

  2014.06.22

• MBA

  

  Today was my MBA convocation at the University of Toronto’s Rotman School. Though I actually finished my degree last year (with a bit of fast-tracking), I had to wait until today in order to formally graduate with the rest of my cohort. I did what’s called the 3-year morning MBA. What that means is that I took most of my classes at 7am.

  The picture above is from our weekend retreat right before we started the program (I’m in the back row in the middle). It was taken in the summer of 2011. That feels like eons ago. It has been a tough slog.

  So today I’m taking the day off from writing about cities. Instead, I’m just going to enjoy the day off and the closing of this chapter in my life. An MBA is something I had been planning on doing even while I was in architecture school–so it’s nice to be able to check it off. But as I told my parents today after convocation: you ain’t seen nothing yet.

  2014.06.20

• What the hell does gesamtkunstwerk mean?

  

  I’m a big fan of Canadian developer Ian Gillespie and his firm Westbank. They are the developers behind projects like the Shangri-La Vancouver, the Shangri-La Toronto, the mixed-use Woodward’s complex, and the upcoming Vancouver House (shown above) designed by Danish architect Bjarke Ingels (who just so happens to be one of my favorite architects). I would easily count them as one of the preeminent city builders in the country today.

  In support of their commitment to city building (and as a way to offer the public a peek of Vancouver House), they recently staged an exhibition called Gesamtkunstwerk. I think this is great on so many levels. Not only was it probably a great sales tool, but it’s also introducing the public to a largely obscure and academic term, and showing off a deep commitment to design. Unless you studied art, architecture, or something like the philosophy of aesthetics, you probably haven’t come across this term before.

  Gesamtkunstwerk is a German word, which literally translates into a “total work of art.” It was introduced in the 19th century by an opera composer by the name of Richard Wagner, who felt that opera represented a total, or complete work of art. Later, the term was picked up by architects. Some interpreted it to mean that architects should be responsible for everything from the building itself to the furniture and everything else that goes inside of it. Everything was art.

  Westbank now wants to introduce the idea of gesamtkunstwerk into the real estate development business. They want to use it as a guiding philosophy for all of their projects. And what that means is that the building itself and its relationship to the greater city should be thought of as a “total work of art.” They seem to be reintroducing the term with an inherent city building tinge–one that I don’t think was ever there before. 

  What a great philosophy.

  Image: Westbank

  2014.06.17

• The future of the architecture profession

  

  Yesterday I had a really interesting conversation with somebody about the future of the architecture profession. We spoke about how Joshua Prince-Ramus of REX believes that architects have marginalized themselves as a result of shying away from liability. We spoke about how architecture schools need to teach more about about business and making money. And we spoke about why I decided to never practice architecture and instead become a developer.

  At the end of it all, he came to more or less the same conclusion that I did in this post. He felt that as more and more trained architects choose to become developers, that maybe the future will be firms that vertically integrate both architecture and real estate development. For those of you not in the building industry, this is fairly uncommon practice today. Typically, developers retain the services of an architect to design their buildings and do not handle this in-house.

  But there are firms that do. DDG out of New York and San Francisco is one example. Although there’s a subtlety worth mentioning. According to their website, they say that they often act as the “design architect” for their projects. This means that there would still need to be an “architect of record”, whose name would appear on the building permit and who would ultimately end up shouldering the liability for the design.

  You see, a bifurcation has happened even within the architecture profession itself. You have “design architects” who may or may not be licensed, but do a lot of the fun design work upfront for a project. And you have production oriented firms that actually produce the technical drawings needed for construction. The fees are generally higher in the latter case (unless maybe you’re a starchitect), but the work is less creative.

  The emergence of these two streams of architecture is precisely what Joshua Prince-Ramus is talking about when he says that architects have marginalized themselves by shying away from liability. He believes that architects are reducing themselves to designers and stylists, from master builders. So his argument is that architects need to reinsert themselves into more of the building process.

  What I’ve been suggesting is that architects should become owners. They should insert themselves into the development process. And the reason I feel this way is because I worry about the tendency for production and construction to just be farmed out to the lowest bidder. Design and development, on the other hand, are high value creation items.

  Truthfully though, I don’t really know which option is better for the profession in terms of relevance. I know which one I’m most interested in, but that could just be a personal preference. What do you think?

  Image: The Red List

  2014.05.29