Brandon Donnelly

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.

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Tag: architecture

  • The grandeur of Montreal

    I was in Montreal for the long weekend and I decided to take the time off from writing. I don’t do that very often, but it was the right thing to do this past weekend.

    Montreal is one of my favorite cities. I spent quite a bit of time there when I was in my early 20s and I almost ended up at McGill for my undergraduate degree. So I have a soft spot for the place.

    One of my friends once described Montreal to me (and contrasted it against Toronto) by saying that it has grandeur. And I think that is exactly the right word.

    There are so many moments throughout the city where you just feel its impressiveness. It’s almost as if, from the very beginning, the city knew what it was destined to become.

    In contrast to this, urban planner Joe Berridge has, in the past, referred to Toronto as an accidental metropolis. And I think that is a similarly accurate way of describing our city.

    Sometimes in Toronto (or perhaps oftentimes, depending on who you ask), you have to scratch a little beneath the surface to find what makes Toronto a truly great city.

    It’s as if the city didn’t know what it was destined to become, and built accordingly. Things just happened — accidentally.

    Grandeur isn’t usually something that is discussed today in city planning circles. We instead talk about things like angular planes, context and, of course, building height.

    But maybe it’s time we rethink our list of requirements. Maybe it’s time we ask ourselves: “Are we creating a city with grandeur?”

    Image: Drone photo from the top of Mount Royal

  • How local is local, really?

    Real estate, as they say, is a local business. Every market has its local nuances. For example, once of the first things that Studio Gang asked us when we started working together was, “does Toronto do PT?” What they were referring to was post-tensioned concrete and our answer was, “not really.” There are certainly examples of localized applications within buildings (such as for a specific transfer slab) and there are examples of buildings that have used it throughout (see Pier 27 Tower below — it’s how they managed to get such deep balconies). But for the most part, it’s not widely used and it’s certainly not as common as it is in markets such as New York. This subtle difference has an impact on how you design, which is why Studio Gang asked it from the outset.

    Despite some of these local differences, there is a criticism out there that we have descended upon a kind of bland global design sensibility. No matter where you’re building, every building now looks the same, which, at the end of the day, was kind of the point of the International Style of architecture. One design approach applied universally. This recent article by Edwin Heathcote takes things even further by saying that our interiors have also been sterilized to look more or less the same as a result of “digital aesthetic seepage.” The article is called, “The curse of the Airbnb aesthetic.”

    One the one hand, there is something inevitable about this outcome. We — including our supply chains — have become more interconnected than ever. And because of the high cost of labor, the way we build today is centered around as much factory automation as possible. Minimize what needs to be done on site. And given that I would expect more, rather than less, automation going forward, one has to assume that this trend is destined to continue. At the same time, local places matter and one of the reasons why so many of us love to travel is that we want to see places that are different than our own. I for one don’t want that to change.

  • Azaleas — L-shaped infill housing

    This is an interesting infill housing project in Villa Allende, Argentina. Designed by Studio LZ, the community contains seven homes, built across a 600 square meter site. Each L-shaped home is 63 square meters and hugs a private courtyard space (many of which have an outdoor BBQ). On the main floor of each home are the kitchen and living areas. And on the second floor are two bedrooms, as well as a second bathroom.

    It’s a simple but clever design. Looking at a plan of the project, you can see that, despite its compactness, the L-shaped houses have been arranged in such a way that there are no direct facing conditions. The courtyards and window exposures alternate. It’s almost as if they are Tetris pieces that have been pulled apart. The result is a dense community that still manages to offer some of the benefits of low-rise housing.

    Photos by Gonzalo Viramonte

  • Project Profile: Gusto 501 by PARTISANS

    I finally visited Gusto 501 over the weekend. The place is amazing — both the food and the architecture. And I don’t know about you, but the food always seems to taste better when you’re surrounded by great design. If you haven’t yet been, I would strongly encourage you to go. Designed by PARTISANS for restaurateur Janet Zuccarini, it’s a 6,700 square foot multi-level complex made for the consumption of Italian food and drink. Now, I could go on about its elaborate clay walls, its vast double height spaces, and its massive operable glass facade (supposedly it’s one of the biggest anywhere). But really the best thing to do here is just show you. So here you are. All photos by Nic Lehoux. Architecture by PARTISANS. (Don’t mind the snow. It’s actually lovely in Toronto right now.)

  • Building great mid-rise buildings

    Alex Bozikovic is right to praise Gairloch’s upcoming development in the Junction. It’s a beautiful project and it’s exciting to see so many architecturally significant projects in one neighborhood — either completed or to be completed. I’m thinking specifically of DUKE Condos (TAS and Quadrangle), our Junction House project (currently under construction), and now Gairloch’s.

    But Alex (as well as Jeremiah Shamess) is also right to point out some of the tensions and contradictions that are inherent to building at this scale. We want European-type mid-rise buildings all along our avenues, but we also want our housing to be more affordable. Problem is, mid-rise buildings are the most expensive way to build.

    The approvals process also tends to privilege urban design considerations over things like livability and construction costs. We talk about the shadow impacts that the project might have on the surrounding community, but not about how well the suites will layout when it’s all said and done — not to mention how expensive they will be to build.

    The cynics will tell you that it doesn’t matter what it costs to build because developers will always profit maximize (as is the case with every other for-profit business). But that’s an oversimplification that ignores a bunch of factors.

    One, it’s not as simple as just price. You also have to consider sales velocity. Price and sales velocity tend to be inversely correlated. In other words, as prices increase, sales velocity tends to naturally slow. You then begin to trade-off higher prices for increased time (which has a cost) and more market risk.

    As I’ve said many times before on the blog, development happens on the margin. Usually the way this plays out is that you create a development pro forma, you look at all of your project costs, and then you say, “oh shit.” You’re then stretching to figure out how you’re going to make the math work.

    Two, there are usually always parts of a city where development isn’t feasible (in some unfortunate cases, it might be the entire city). The potential revenues simply don’t support the costs. And as costs continue the rise, any areas that have not seen a corresponding increase in prices and/or rents will also become undevelopable.

    So there’s price, and there’s also a question of where great buildings are even possible. As many have already pointed out, it’s certainly not everywhere.

  • Marking up drawings

    Apparently I’ve been living in the dark ages. The One Delisle project team just introduced me to Bluebeam Revu and, frankly, I’m not sure how we were marking up PDF drawings before this. It’s faster and more responsive than Adobe Acrobat. Everyone’s comments sit nicely in the cloud. And you can even take measurements off of the drawings. It kind of feels like a light and friendlier version of AutoCAD (which I haven’t used in over a decade). Marking up drawings is something that I do regularly as part my job. Sometimes I do that with trace paper (I did that for probably every suite at Junction House). But more often it has been with Adobe Acrobat. If you’re in the same boat and aren’t yet using Bluebeam, I would encourage you to check it out.

  • The importance of the RCP

    One of my colleagues likes to remind me that in an open concept floor plan, which is obviously pretty common these days, it is the RCP, or reflected ceiling plan, that really defines a space. (For those of you who might be unfamiliar, an RCP is a plan drawing that shows you what the ceiling of a space looks like.) What he means by this is that it is things like dropped ceilings and bulkheads that really define a space. And when you’re designing a multi-unit building, you are going to have these things to contend with and coordinate (though you can also run exposed ductwork, which eliminates the need for some bulkheads/drops).

    I like this reminder for two reasons.

    One, he’s right. Ceilings matter. Frank Lloyd Wright, for example, is well known for playing around with them in his projects. He would take you through compressed spaces with lower ceiling heights and then “release” you into grand open spaces. The contrast made it all feel even more dramatic. (But I reckon Mr. Wright was pretty short because I swear I’ve been in some of his houses and the ceilings were in the range of 6′-6″.) And two, I want us to focus on this level of detail in our projects. They can be a pain in the ass to coordinate and you can’t always get them exactly how you want them, but we are paying attention.

  • One Delisle approved at Community Council

    Back in March of this year, which seems like a very long time ago, I wrote about how One Delisle came to be and how City Planning at the City of Toronto were recommending approval of its development application. Well today I am thrilled to announce that, after two deferrals, these recommendations were adopted (with some amendments) by Toronto and East York Community Council. Though it will still need to go through City Council on July 28, 2020, this milestone is a big deal for the project. It’s now time for the next chapter in this story. So stay tuned. For those of you who are new to One Delisle and would like a bit of background, here is a good place to start.

  • Project Profile: LR2 Residence

    Homes that are built on or into sloping terrains are fascinating to me because the inconveniences of having to deal with uneven ground create additional constraints. And constraints are good for design. Not only because, I feel, it makes the design process easier, but because it helps to ensure that the moves being made are less arbitrary.

    You are forced to respond to the surrounding context. You have no choice but to find some kind of harmony. And that can make things feel more deliberate, which may be the most important characteristic of good design. You want to know that someone actually thought about the design that they have put forward. You want to know that things were carefully considered.

    Of course, sloping terrains also create opportunities. They usually translate into great views, which is certainly the case with the LR2 Residence in Pasadena, California by Montalba Architects (pictured above). Here, the main “entertaining deck” is located on the upper floor and has a large outdoor terrace. This configuration is not uncommon in slopside houses.

    For more information about the LR2 Residence, including photos and floor plans, click here.

    Photo/Diagram: Kevin Scott / Montalba Architects

  • Barton Myers’ California estate is on the market for $8.2 million

    Architect Barton Myers has his home in Montecito, California on the market right now for $8.2 million. In addition to his own residence, the 38-acre site also houses his studio and a guesthouse, all of which have roll-up garage doors so that you can enjoy that perfectly benign California climate. The estate is quintessentially Myers and it’s obviously awesome. Here is the listing from Sothebys. (I tried to street view the address but was only successful at locating what I think is its mailbox. What a natural setting.)

    For those of you who may be unfamiliar with the work of Myers, he is considered one of Toronto’s most influential architects. After graduating from the University of Pennsylvania and working with architect Louis Kahn for a few years, he moved to Toronto in the late 1960s to take up a teaching position at the University of Toronto. He then started his own architecture practice with Jack Diamond (also an alumnus of the University of Pennsylvania) and remained a principal of Diamond and Myers until 1975.

    Myers moved on to start his own firm — Barton Myers Associates — that same year and became known for notable projects such as 19 Berryman Street in Yorkville (Myers’ own residence) and the Wolf House at 51 Roxborough Drive, which was Architectural Record’s House of the Year in 1977. Probably the most distinguishing characteristic of his work is his use of exposed industrial materials, which is, of course, something that is on display in Montecito. But he managed to deploy these materials in a way that made them feel high-brow. His homes also feel very California to me.

    In 1984, he opened up an office in Los Angeles and eventually his practice in Toronto was shutdown. But not before leaving a lasting legacy in Toronto. For a map of all the firm’s North American projects, click here.

    Photo: BMA