Sir Novelty Fashion
Senior Member
We're funny about architecture here in North America, and Big Daddy's points are a reflection of that.
For some reason, North Americans got totally hung up on neoclassicism in the 19th century, and we've never recovered. By "neoclassicism" I mean trying to revive the classics - building your churches and train stations and harbour commissions so they look like something the Greeks or Romans might have liked. This took many forms, from the rounded Richardson Romanesque to pointy gothic revivalism to stocky Beaux-Arts union stationism, but one way or the other it usually involved a lot of stone and columns and porticos and other clearly-identifiable old-timey cues.
Waves of classic revival thinking started hitting North America in the second half of the 19th century, and it had reached fever pitch by the time of the 1893 World's Columbian Exhibition across the lake in Chicago, in which an entire "White City" of insta-bake, white-painted French Classical buildings was erected. The aesthetic hit Toronto at about the same time, and as JMS Careless wryly remarked of the Bank of Toronto on Yonge, soon a bank was scarcely a bank unless it looked like a Temple of Jupiter.
The funny thing is that we never moved on. We got stuck. It's not because this is the only way they built quality buildings in history. It just turned out that these were the going styles at the time that urban North America got really big. And - perhaps as a result - the North American mind only seems to think old buildings are worthwhile if they look like something a centurion might feel at home with.
There's a lot of reasons we should keep #90 here. Not only is it a handsome building on its on merits, it's a blessed relief from all the green-glass podiums that blight the area. It adds diversity of age, materials and scale to the neighborhood. And I think it's pretty sharp-looking, but that might just be me.
But the bigger point is this: unthinking brand-loyalty towards classic-lookin' buildings does a disservice to the cause of preservation. As long as people don't look at buildings on their merits, but unthinkingly say, "Hey, this one has columns! It's old-timey and it should stay," rallying people to save modern heritage will be a lost cause.
For some reason, North Americans got totally hung up on neoclassicism in the 19th century, and we've never recovered. By "neoclassicism" I mean trying to revive the classics - building your churches and train stations and harbour commissions so they look like something the Greeks or Romans might have liked. This took many forms, from the rounded Richardson Romanesque to pointy gothic revivalism to stocky Beaux-Arts union stationism, but one way or the other it usually involved a lot of stone and columns and porticos and other clearly-identifiable old-timey cues.
Waves of classic revival thinking started hitting North America in the second half of the 19th century, and it had reached fever pitch by the time of the 1893 World's Columbian Exhibition across the lake in Chicago, in which an entire "White City" of insta-bake, white-painted French Classical buildings was erected. The aesthetic hit Toronto at about the same time, and as JMS Careless wryly remarked of the Bank of Toronto on Yonge, soon a bank was scarcely a bank unless it looked like a Temple of Jupiter.
The funny thing is that we never moved on. We got stuck. It's not because this is the only way they built quality buildings in history. It just turned out that these were the going styles at the time that urban North America got really big. And - perhaps as a result - the North American mind only seems to think old buildings are worthwhile if they look like something a centurion might feel at home with.
There's a lot of reasons we should keep #90 here. Not only is it a handsome building on its on merits, it's a blessed relief from all the green-glass podiums that blight the area. It adds diversity of age, materials and scale to the neighborhood. And I think it's pretty sharp-looking, but that might just be me.
But the bigger point is this: unthinking brand-loyalty towards classic-lookin' buildings does a disservice to the cause of preservation. As long as people don't look at buildings on their merits, but unthinkingly say, "Hey, this one has columns! It's old-timey and it should stay," rallying people to save modern heritage will be a lost cause.