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FIXING TORONTO: ALSOP AND PARTNERS: 'A PLANNING-FREE ZONE'
Will Alsop's west-side recipe: planning anarchy!
PATRICIA CHISHOLM
Special to The Globe and Mail
June 2, 2007
Toronto had never seen anything like it - a gigantic checkered box hoisted into the sky, balanced on a handful of gigantic spikes. Six years later, we are not only accustomed to the Sharp Centre for Design, designed by British architect Will Alsop, it has become the architectural benchmark against which a clutch of ambitious new projects are measured.
And when Mr. Alsop was asked how we might make wider changes to Toronto's
often scruffy urban fabric, he delivered something characteristically different. His confection of coloured geometry, with buildings growing out of the landscape - and seemingly each other - is what might happen, he suggests, if Toronto were to fling off its corset of planners, politicians and bureaucrats and live a little, removing all the planning rules and letting residents and developers rebuild at their pleasure. The fanciful picture sends the message that organic growth is more interesting than urban planning. In Mr. Alsop's words, "A carefully planned place usually lacks soul and results in people behaving badly."
Mr. Alsop calls his concept a "no-planning" zone. Here, market forces take over and there is a rush to maximize the potential for lake views. Buildings appear that dip their toes in the water. Among them are some that are lifted above the ground, allowing public access to the water's edge. Others emerge north of the first ones, but are built higher, also to achieve lake views. The increase in density persuades the city to locate a new museum in the area. The architect decides to raise the building as a 3-D Mobius strip. Bars, restaurants and street markets appear in what Mr. Alsop calls a "useful terrestrial grunge." This, he adds, "is the part where people really want to be."
While the area selected is one of Toronto's most uninspired quadrants - bounded by College, Dufferin, Lansdowne and the waterfront - it might happen anywhere. Mr. Alsop says he is interested in "the power of the alien object to wake people up." No kidding. As he sees it (and a growing legacy bears him out), initial fears about a different building generally melt away once it goes up. "When they [the public] relax and they're not nervous about it, then they think it's great."
Fixing our eyes on the future
This six-part series on fixing Toronto's public spaces, which ends today, was driven by one purpose: to explore how a city that has lagged badly in the public realm can do some quick catching-up. Burdened by an excess of pragmatism and an almost willful refusal to give aesthetics its due, Toronto has suffered the consequences - drab streets, mediocre architecture and a strange lack of inviting gathering places.
Until very recently, Torontonians seemed resigned to the situation. But we're now seeing debate about the public realm and dissatisfaction with the status quo. Dinner-party conversations buzz over the merit of new buildings and design plans, from the Royal Ontario Museum to the waterfront. When there is a design competition to make over Nathan Phillips Square, people flock to register their preferences. And Fixing Toronto has provoked an online conversation now stretching to more than 100 comments.
Will there be change? The designers who generously donated their time and ideas to this series have sent Toronto a strong message - if there's sufficient public will, a way can be found. While arguments about cost and consensus have their place, it is becoming obvious that what's needed most is public pressure. And the results could be remarkable. Yes, property values will increase and tourism will flourish. But more than this, Torontonians can begin to step into the vast potential of their city.
Patricia Chisholm
Will Alsop's west-side recipe: planning anarchy!
PATRICIA CHISHOLM
Special to The Globe and Mail
June 2, 2007
Toronto had never seen anything like it - a gigantic checkered box hoisted into the sky, balanced on a handful of gigantic spikes. Six years later, we are not only accustomed to the Sharp Centre for Design, designed by British architect Will Alsop, it has become the architectural benchmark against which a clutch of ambitious new projects are measured.
And when Mr. Alsop was asked how we might make wider changes to Toronto's
often scruffy urban fabric, he delivered something characteristically different. His confection of coloured geometry, with buildings growing out of the landscape - and seemingly each other - is what might happen, he suggests, if Toronto were to fling off its corset of planners, politicians and bureaucrats and live a little, removing all the planning rules and letting residents and developers rebuild at their pleasure. The fanciful picture sends the message that organic growth is more interesting than urban planning. In Mr. Alsop's words, "A carefully planned place usually lacks soul and results in people behaving badly."
Mr. Alsop calls his concept a "no-planning" zone. Here, market forces take over and there is a rush to maximize the potential for lake views. Buildings appear that dip their toes in the water. Among them are some that are lifted above the ground, allowing public access to the water's edge. Others emerge north of the first ones, but are built higher, also to achieve lake views. The increase in density persuades the city to locate a new museum in the area. The architect decides to raise the building as a 3-D Mobius strip. Bars, restaurants and street markets appear in what Mr. Alsop calls a "useful terrestrial grunge." This, he adds, "is the part where people really want to be."
While the area selected is one of Toronto's most uninspired quadrants - bounded by College, Dufferin, Lansdowne and the waterfront - it might happen anywhere. Mr. Alsop says he is interested in "the power of the alien object to wake people up." No kidding. As he sees it (and a growing legacy bears him out), initial fears about a different building generally melt away once it goes up. "When they [the public] relax and they're not nervous about it, then they think it's great."
Fixing our eyes on the future
This six-part series on fixing Toronto's public spaces, which ends today, was driven by one purpose: to explore how a city that has lagged badly in the public realm can do some quick catching-up. Burdened by an excess of pragmatism and an almost willful refusal to give aesthetics its due, Toronto has suffered the consequences - drab streets, mediocre architecture and a strange lack of inviting gathering places.
Until very recently, Torontonians seemed resigned to the situation. But we're now seeing debate about the public realm and dissatisfaction with the status quo. Dinner-party conversations buzz over the merit of new buildings and design plans, from the Royal Ontario Museum to the waterfront. When there is a design competition to make over Nathan Phillips Square, people flock to register their preferences. And Fixing Toronto has provoked an online conversation now stretching to more than 100 comments.
Will there be change? The designers who generously donated their time and ideas to this series have sent Toronto a strong message - if there's sufficient public will, a way can be found. While arguments about cost and consensus have their place, it is becoming obvious that what's needed most is public pressure. And the results could be remarkable. Yes, property values will increase and tourism will flourish. But more than this, Torontonians can begin to step into the vast potential of their city.
Patricia Chisholm
