Victoria Park Subway Station

Concept: 4 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: Second time's a charm.

The Long Version: Subway stations on the Bloor-Danforth line are usually a 3:1 ratio of utility to ugly, but for the old Victoria Park station the numbers were reversed. It used an odd layout with an elevated train track and bus bays on the same level; these bays were reached with a pair of up/down staircases after walking through a long interior concourse. The pedestrian options were either an automated turnstile and long narrow hallway that ended in the commuter parking lot, or a strange main exit out of the side of the building, which faced someone else's parking lot. For bonus points, there was an impromptu passenger pick-up and garbage-storage area underneath the subway bridge. Welcome to Scarborough.

But that was years ago: recent renovations have vastly improved the station. Large windows were knocked into the walls on the platform level; sometimes the results are awkward, but it does open up the station to its surroundings. The bus bays have been moved to the ground level, and there's a long glass wall that lets people wait indoors. The station has been designed with contemporary ideas about accessibility and comfort, and it's a profound change.

The station's main entrance now faces the street, with glass replacing the concrete facade. A secure, enclosed and reasonably-priced bike storage area fills most of the void under the bridge, but still allows for an open sidewalk. It's a huge improvement, inside and out.

Not all is perfect with the new layout, of course; if nothing else, the lone transfer-issuing machine is oddly hidden. But after spending half an hour there on a weekday morning, I found myself thinking that it's too bad that the station is tucked a short distance north of the Danforth, which is the main commercial street with a fair bit happening on it. The revitalized station could easily become the gateway to a community that would really benefit from a little more exposure.

Victoria Park station used to be a bunker, squatting in a high-rise community that already had far too many concrete walls. The renovations haven't quite made it into a cathedral, and it's still not actually attractive, but after being used to the oppressiveness of the old station – and all of the others designed in the Stalinist Public Washroom period of TTC architecture – it's an astonishing change. My biggest challenge in taking these photos was having too much light and too many windows. In a subway station. Owned by the TTC. Amazing.

It's been made perfectly clear to everyone in Toronto that the TTC doesn't have any spare money. But I'm glad that they found the cash to revamp Vic Park, and they've done a great job with it – which is quite something for a downtown-dweller to say about his former near-suburb neighbourhood.

last updated 4 dec 2010

Concrete Toronto: A Guidebook to Concrete Architecture From the Fifties to the Seventies

Concept: 4 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's a very dense book.


The Long Version: "Concrete Toronto: A Guidebook to Concrete Architecture From the Fifties to the Seventies" is the second book I've bought from Coach House Press, the small but vital Toronto institution located on the charming bpNichol lane. Like HTO: Toronto's Water, this is a collection of essays written by a range of experts, discussing a specific and overlooked section of Toronto's physical environment. And before I put anyone off, Coach House publishes a broad range of subjects, including fiction and poetry, and it's well worth looking through their catalog. It just so happens that I love their dedication to local subjects, and Concrete Toronto is exactly the kind of book that appeals to me.

Concrete is possibly the least-sexy building material out there, and yet it's ubiquitous. It makes our roads and bridges possible, and it's the ground that we walk on in our cities, but it is to aesthetics what powdered mashed potatoes is to cuisine. Toronto's skyline is dominated by poured concrete buildings, but it's mostly associated with the broadly-unloved Brutalist style, which even takes its name from its love of exposed concrete exteriors. A book titled "Concrete Toronto" is clearly facing an tough battle just to get picked up off of the shelf, but it's well worth it. Inside is a huge collection of essays, illustrations, and photos.

Naturally, the prominent Toronto landmarks are well covered. The CN Tower, the Manulife Centre, and the New City Hall are all presented in considerable detail, and the book almost persuades me to like that particular government building. Less prominent buildings are also discussed, including many in the University of Toronto and Annex neighbourhoods that I see daily, and it really has given me a new way to understand the unremarkable - I can see Tartu and Rochdale from the balcony in my `70's concrete condo - and appreciate the ambitious, like OISE, Robarts, and 44 Walmer. But the book isn't just a tourists' guide to specific structures: history, preservation, technology, and city-building are all within the scope of the book. The buildings I've studied in, the suburb that I grew up in, and the highways that I drive on are all in here. And while most of the book is specific to Toronto and the area around it, who wouldn't be interested in an essay on 'The Rise of Parking Garages'? It sounds trivial, but this is the stuff that shapes our cities.

I really only have one criticism of the book: the type can be tiny. While most of the text is simply very very small, sometimes they designers have had to fit an inhuman amount of text onto a page, with a result that makes the fine print in a credit card ad seem luxurious. This isn't one to read while swaying around in bad lighting on the subway, even if you are approaching Eglinton West station on your way to Yorkdale mall, both of which are featured inside. A minor quibble is that the lack of colour photography leaves the book relentlessly grey, but I suppose that's partly the point. After all, one of the typefaces used is 'Slate' - I've always suspected that the people at Coach House have a subtle and sophisticated sense of humour.

Clearly, it's people with an interest in Toronto and its architecture that are going to get the most out of this book. I wouldn't suggest that anyone in Barstow, California should head over to Amazonto buy a copy, unless they were originally from here and were feeling an unusual variety of homesickness. But for those who like concrete architecture, cities in general, and Toronto's history and development, it's definitely worth checking out. The mix of different perspectives, the reasonable length of each essay, and the broad range of subjects within its narrow scope makes Concrete Toronto a surprisingly engaging book. I know I'll be picking it up and re-reading it, in both idle moments and dedicated sessions, for a long time to come.

Toronto City Hall

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: It is but ugly from North-East-West; when the view is Southerly, it can tell a hawk from a handsaw.

The Long Version: This review is about the architecture: the container, not the contents.

The building itself is a square base with two curved towers cupping a flying-saucer shaped council chamber. It's an excellent piece of Modernist architecture, completed in 1965, and designed by Viljo Revell as his only work outside of his native Finland. It faces south, looking at the public square in front of it, Queen street, the Financial district, and Lake Ontario. Seeing the structure from Queen street is an impressive sight -- soon to get better once the square is redone -- exactly the way the architect intended it.

There's a lot to like about the New City Hall. It has outdoor art, a much-photographed fountain that turns into a mushy skating rink in our increasingly mild winters, and even has a peace garden with an eternal flame lit by His Holiness Pope John Paul 2. There are free concerts and art festivals in the summer, it hosts Christmas and New Year's celebrations in the winter, and has hot dog vendors all year. What more could you ask?

How about wanting a better metaphor for city governance?

The photo at top of this review shows the other side of City Hall -- the sides that face the city. Here all of the positive associations are reversed: the building has its back to the city it serves, showing only windowless walls as the towers huddle inwards to shelter the council chambers. It's ugly and unwelcoming, to the point where being buried in more glass condo towers with uninspired names will be a relief. Ever the source of understatement, even Wikipedia has an opinion: "The north, west, and east elevations are plain in contrast with the south elevation; each presents a view of unrelieved concrete."

Displaced to build it in the mid 1950's, much of Toronto's Chinese population moved just a little north and west to Spadina avenue, largely but not entirely displacing most of Toronto's Jewish population, who also moved a little farther north. Since then, the city has expanded tremendously, all to the north, east, and west of the building that houses the city's management and forms its logo. You literally cannot see the vast majority of the city from city hall.

Given that architecture is a form of communication, and that this building is a monument to public life, there's no excuse for such an insular and literally self-centered design.

ROM's Michael Lee-Chin Crystal Addition

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: I've actually liked it from the very beginning.

The Long Version: There's a lot that's been said about the addition to Toronto's Royal Ontario Museum, which means this will be a very short review. Superficially, it's a daring and unique structure -- just like all of the projects done by Daniel Libeskind. The ROM is strikingly unique, strikingly like many other striking structures.

Jørn Utzon hasn't felt the need to revisit the theme he used in Sydney. I like modern architecture, I like the addition, and I like the way the original building has been preserved. It's just a pity that the ROM has settled for a cookie-cutter tourist attraction.

(An extra 'execution' point has been awarded for the way the dinosaurs are visible from the street.)