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.
So, I of course think this is silly. But here’s a claim that living in high-rises — that is, buildings with elevators — is bad for people’s physical and mental health:
In the midst of a Vancouver civic election where housing is a hot issue, Vancouver councillor and mayoral candidate Colleen Hardwick stated that “highrises are not good for people’s physical and mental health.”
Last week we asked Hardwick to expand further on her views about health and building types. She told The Tyee she believes highrises radically reduce chance encounters between people because they separate people from the street and from each other.
“Ground-oriented housing typologies are ideal,” she said, referring to housing that allows a resident to reach their place of residence using stairs, perhaps, but not an elevator.
Apparently what happens when you get into an elevator is that you immediately lose your ability to interact meaningfully with other humans. Yeah, I’m not the only one who disagrees:
“Coun. Hardwick is cherry-picking her data” about highrise living and the isolating effects of structures with elevators, accused urbanist and author Charles Montgomery. A six-storey building with an elevator, he told The Tyee, is “the most social place I’ve ever lived.”
Cities, it turns out, are complicated. And there are always trade-offs to be made. During the pandemic, some people thought it would be nice to live in a ground-oriented home in the country and now they are realizing that the country lacks things like amenities and, you know, other people.
Personally, I will happily take an elevator over a soul-crushing commute to a home without one. I also agree with Charles that multi-family buildings can be very social.
I spent this morning filming a new short video for Junction House. My friends Adriana and Mateusz live in a beautiful boutique condominium building downtown. They are also raising their young daughter there, and using it as an office and design studio (he’s an architect). This is a story that we are looking to tell in a new campaign that we’ll be launching this fall, and so I very much appreciate them volunteering their time.
We talk about this a lot on the blog, but there are deep cultural biases in Toronto (and throughout North America) around single-family housing. But that is changing. For a variety of reasons, more and more people are choosing to live in multi-family buildings and to raise families within them. We believe that there are many benefits to this lifestyle choice, and that it is ultimately a positive thing for our cities. So that’s what we were discussing this morning.
Thank you both for your time, and thank you to Studio Haus for figuring out how to get the lighting right in a corner suite with copious amounts of natural light.
If I were to make a broad generalization for the way that we typically design the structural systems for residential buildings and office buildings here in Toronto it would be as follows: office buildings tend to have a big structural core with perimeter columns and residential buildings tend to have a smaller core accompanied by both columns and shear walls (long structural walls essentially). There are a myriad of other differences, but for the purposes of this post, I’m going to run with this broad classification.
When something is typically done a certain way it often means that it is generally what the market wants and it is a cost effective solution. In the case of office buildings, this sort of structural system is essential for maintaining open plans and future flexibility. You can’t have shear walls interrupting your floor plates. And because big office buildings also tend to have a lot of elevators, the structural core is usually what provides lateral stability to the building (or at least this is what the structural engineers tell me).
But this same imperative for open plans isn’t usually there for residential buildings. In this case, the unit demising is often fairly fixed and the individual resident/tenant spaces tend to be smaller than in office buildings, which makes frequent structural elements a lot more palatable. And since the elevator cores also tend to be smaller (fewer elevators), there is usually a need to introduce other structural elements that can provide the building with lateral stability. (Again, this is what the engineers tell me.) So enter all the shear walls.
But every now and then, somebody in Toronto will ask: Is this the right way to be building? Other cities don’t build their residential buildings with all of these shear walls and so should we really be limiting the future flexibility of our multi-family housing supply by constructing in this way? These are good questions. The short answer is that it tends to be easier/cheaper to build this way. Our market is used to it. And generally end-users are just fine with it.
However, this method of building isn’t necessarily a universal truth. The structural system for One Delisle, for example, is far closer to that of an office building than it is to that of a typical residential tower. Much of this was driven by the building’s architecture and its continually changing floor plates. I have also heard of instances where purpose-built rental developers are choosing to go column over shear wall so that there’s greater flexibility in the future. There’s certainly a case to be made for this.
As developers, it is impossible to know all there is to know about any one discipline. You need the right team in place for that. But we do have to look at the bigger picture, weigh all of the constraints, and then hopefully make a reasonably good decision. This is one example of that.
I came across the above floor plan over the weekend. I reshared it on Twitter and there was then a pretty good discussion about what people like and don’t like. I mean, who doesn’t like looking at floor plans?
The suite is 790 square feet with 2 bedrooms and 1 bathroom. It rents, at least according to Bobby’s original tweet, at $2,600 per month. That’s $3.29 per square foot. I’m guessing that the apartment is in Philadelphia solely based on Bobby’s location.
The divisive thing in this floor plan is the two inset bedrooms. Some people don’t like these. But designing a good floor plan is like working through a puzzle. You have all these constraints (some of which are just personal preference) and you have to find ways to work around them.
When you’re working with a deep urban floor plate, you pretty much have no choice but to design floor plans with inset bedrooms. Otherwise, the suites get too big and they stop making economic sense. I have talked about this a few times before on the blog.
So what you do is “bury” the bedroom(s) and keep the main living space as open as possible. In this case, the living/dining dimensions are about 17′ wide x 10′ deep. So a pretty good size, and certainly a very good width.
An alternate solution might be to flip one of the bedrooms up towards the main glass (keeping the second one inset). But given that you only have 17 feet to work with here, something is going to have to give. So if you made the living room 9′ wide, you’d then only have somewhere around 8′ for your bedroom.
Personally, I don’t mind inset bedrooms, especially if they allow for more generous living spaces. So I think that this is a fairly reasonable and functional suite layout. I would have absolutely lived in an apartment like this when I was going to school in Philadelphia. (Is this even the right location?)
But if I were to make a few tweaks:
I would compress the bedrooms slightly to enlarge the living space even more. (Though if the target market is student roommates, perhaps the idea is to allow for a desk in the bedroom.) I would then flip the closets to the partition wall between the two bedrooms to improve sound attenuation.
I would also try and get the kitchen out of the hallway and into the main living/dining area. I don’t know where all the plumbing stacks sit (see, constraints), but perhaps it just slides up toward the glass. Another solution might be on the other side of the upper bedroom (where there is currently a closet).
But what are your thoughts? Would you rent this apartment? Comments welcome below.
It was recently reported that Jimmy Fallon and his wife are selling their New York City Penthouse in Gramercy Park. It’s listed for $15 million. In looking at the photos, it’s pretty much what I would have expected. It’s fun and quirky. And they have a “saloon room” that looks like it could be in Wyoming. But what I also find interesting is how they assembled this apartment over time.
It started in 2002. Jimmy Fallon was single and he bought his first place in the building — a one bedroom for $850,000. According to the article, he couldn’t really afford it. But as he was nearing the end of his run on SNL, Lorne Michael encouraged him to buy his own place. So he went and did that in Gramercy Park in a building that dates back to the 1800s.
As life evolved and as Jimmy got married, he and his wife started buying contiguous apartments — three more to be exact. Their penthouse apartment is now about 5,000 square feet and spans three floors in the building. It’s an interesting case study in the flexibility of multi-family buildings. Here is a building that was built in the 1800s and has probably seen a myriad of changes over its lifetime.
Future flexibility is something that is talked about here in Toronto in the context of new construction. We talk about “knock-out panels” so that someone like Jimmy can grow into a larger suite. I’m not sure how often this actually happens, but I would imagine the frequency is relatively low. But it’s very possible and not just in older buildings like The Gramercy Park.
My super scientific Twitter balcony survey has revealed that most people seem to like balconies and terraces. Out of the 257 people that voted (not a huge number), 77.4% said that if they were in the market to buy or rent a new place, they would probably want a balcony or terrace. I realize now that my wording could have been more precise. Either way, the results seem to suggest a clear preference.
But there are all sorts of reasons for why you might want to avoid building balconies: energy performance, upfront costs, long-term maintenance, usability at high elevations, overall aesthetics, and so on. In fact, I once had an architect turn down a job because they don’t typically work on residential buildings and, when they do, they refuse to work on ones that have balconies. He told me that they don’t want the liability.
But then what inevitably happens is that the sales and marketing team joins the design meeting and says, “yeah, we hear what you’re saying, but people like outdoor spaces.” And then the great debate starts. Okay, so what percentage of the suites should have an outdoor space? What about a sliding glass well? I think so-and-so is doing it on their project. Yeah, but they’re real expensive and they leak air.
The reality is that there are many buildings without private outdoor spaces and there are many cities where it is common not to build them. Moreover, my Twitter survey doesn’t really tell you exactly how people might behave when they’re about to make a purchasing decision. What you really want are data points and things like A/B tests.
Let’s take for example two typical/identical 600 square foot suites, with the only difference being that one has a balcony and the other doesn’t. Now let’s say that the one with a balcony is selling for $1,400 psf or $840,000 and the one without a balcony is selling for $1,350 psf or $810,000. Will some of the 77.4% that voted balcony/terrace possibly buy the $810,000 suite? Of course. Because it’s less expensive.
So how does one go about making the right decision when it comes to designing for outdoor spaces? Well, in some cases, you won’t have a choice. We have had instances where the City has asked us (okay, forced us) to remove all of the balconies on a particular elevation because they didn’t fit with the urban design aesthetic that they wanted for the streetscape. That always pisses me off.
That aside, my view — and this is just my opinion — is that you can’t generalize when trying to make this decision. You need to carefully consider who your customer is or will be. I’ve written before about the divide between investor demand and end-user demand in residential buildings. It impacts design, and outdoor spaces are no different.
If you take for example Junction House, it is a predominately end-user building. That’s who we thought would be buying and that is who bought. When the team was designing the two-storey House Collection, the intent was to create a kind of substitute for low-rise housing. And so these homes had to have outdoor spaces (they have terraces). This was never a question or a debate.
Similarly, one of the reasons why One Delisle looks the way that it does is because the team set out to create unique terraces, as well as varying outdoor spaces, all throughout the tower. The thinking was, “people like terraces in mid-rise buildings, like Junction House, so let’s figure out how to do that in a high-rise building typology.”
At the same time, we have suites with Juliet balconies at Junction House and it is certainly true that the above recipes may not be suitable for every project. Again, there are lots of buildings without private outdoor spaces, including ones that have sold during this pandemic. One of the things that I have also discovered is that common area outdoor spaces and nearby green spaces can have an impact on whether or not people feel they need private outdoor space.
All of this to say that one size does not fit all. Which is probably why this topic remains such a great debate.
Note: I am making a distinction between balconies and terraces. Balconies typically cantilever out from a building and are not insulated. Terraces, on the other hand, are typically a roof condition in that they sit above a conditioned space. This usually means that the concrete slab will need to get “built up” with insulation and paving. A drainage system will also be required.
His argument is that the first Los Angeles ran from about 1880 to World War II, and was characterized by a form of urbanism that most of, today, do not associate with LA. It was a city of streetcars, innovative multi-family housing, and local landscapes.
The second Los Angeles was the second half of the 20th century. And it is the LA that probably comes to mind for most people when they think of LA. It is the city of freeways, single-family homes, and sprawl.
The third Los Angeles is the city’s most recent iteration and started sometime around 2000. Like many things in life, it is in some ways a return to the past: namely the first LA. It is about urban intensification, transit, and more drought resistant landscapes. It is a city that senses its geographic limits.
I like how he talks about some of the challenges associated with intensification and this third LA:
“People in very good conscience who live in Santa Monica or San Francisco think of a moratorium on development as a progressive thing to support rather than reactionary or conservative or just in their own political self-interest. I don’t have a problem with somebody who bought a house at a certain point saying, “I bought into a certain place, you know, I want it to stay this way, and I’m going to use whatever resources I can to keep it that way.” They have every right to say that, even if I disagree. I have a problem with people saying that’s consistent with a progressive agenda about cities or a forward-looking attitude about the environment or about resources. It’s not.”
