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Architects of future build on diversity
CHRISTOPHER HUME
NEW YORK�Could architecture do for Toronto what it did for Bilbao?
That was the question posed at a panel convened this week in downtown Manhattan. The participants � distinguished architects Will Alsop, Jack Diamond, Daniel Libeskind and Bruce Kuwabara � didn't agree on much, only that architecture can make a difference.
Organized by the Canadian Consulate, the Van Alen Institute and the American Institute of Architecture, the 90-minute session featured more soap-boxing then verbal fencing. Certainly no New Yorker in attendance could have accused the Canuck contingent of blowing its collective horn; in good Canadian tradition, there was plenty of self-deprecation, verging on self-criticism.
Bilbao, as most of the planet now knows, is an old Spanish industrial city on the Atlantic coast where the Frank Gehry-designed Guggenheim Museum was built in the 1990s. The highly sculptural, titanium-clad structure easily ranks as one of the most significant, and controversial, pieces of architecture of the past 20 years.
Gehry's great building was enough to turn around a city that had been in decline for decades and transform it into a global destination. But as was pointed out several times, Bilbao didn't just build an art gallery; it invested heavily in its civic infrastructure. The city hired leading Spanish architect, Santiago Calatrava, to design its new airport and Norman Foster of London for its new subway system.
Toronto, on the other hand, is in the midst of a building boom that includes major additions to the Art Gallery of Ontario (designed by Gehry), the Royal Ontario Museum (Libeskind), the Gardiner Museum of Ceramic Art, (Kuwabara Payne McKenna Blumberg), the National Ballet School of Canada (KPMB) and the Royal Conservatory of Music (KPMB). By the end of next year, Toronto will also have an opera house, the Four Seasons Performing Arts Centre, designed by Diamond. Then there's Alsop's Sharp Centre for Design at the Ontario College of Art and Design, the much-debated flying tabletop. Love it or hate it, it is a genuine architectural icon.
"Toronto is a very interesting city," Alsop told a crowd of expatriate Torontonians and curious New Yorkers on Tuesday night. "When I first went there, I thought it was horrible."
That was five years ago; since then, Alsop has not only learned to love the city, he even opened an office here.
"Let's not talk about the Bilbao Effect," argued Alsop, winner of the U.K.'s most prestigious architecture award, the Stirling Prize. "Let's talk about the Toronto defect."
Though he never explained exactly what that meant, he did insist that Toronto is undergoing huge changes that will make it a different place.
"Toronto's a city that will never be the same again," Libeskind said, echoing Alsop.
What's important, he insisted, isn't infrastructure, transportation, accessibility or beauty, but "the spirit of a city."
Libeskind said Toronto has a flexible attitude to development. The result, he said, has been "a revolution in architectural expectations."
Based in New York, Libeskind also argued that the iconic buildings aren't to be taken too seriously. They represent "a cartoon version of identity," not the real thing.
"Toronto's kind of ugly," admitted Kuwabara, one of this city's leading architects. "It's civilized and civil, but it's missing some things such as great parks and great civic spaces. But Toronto's a very young city; it's still in formation. It's an incredibly exciting time to be an architect in Toronto. Our job is to create platforms that will allow these institutions to succeed."
For Diamond, the beauty of Toronto lies in the coherence and continuity of its street grid and its uniformly unassuming architecture. He made it clear that he disapproves of the kinds of projects produced by Libeskind and Alsop, which are deliberately designed as exceptions to the civic rule.
Diamond's commitment to "good urban manners" is shown in the Four Seasons Performing Arts Centre at Queen and University. This building bends over backwards to be polite.
The Bilbao Effect, however, depends on the extraordinary as well as the conventional. It requires spectacle in addition to background. Toronto architects tend to be more proficient at the latter; in contrast, Alsop and Libeskind have specialized in the former.
But the city is a big place; it encompasses many approaches, tastes and intentions, some ordinary and some remarkable. Toronto's strength, as its motto states, is its diversity.
The cumulative effect of all the cultural building projects now under construction in Toronto will be enormous. How could it be otherwise? Every one will enrich the city, and already the world is paying attention.
Whether we achieve the critical mass required to produce a Bilbao Effect, however, remains to be seen. It's unlikely, but that's not the point.
"There's a pent-up desire to see something new," Kuwabara said of Toronto.
He's right. Cities, like the institutions within them, must change, grow and evolve. They must adapt or die. Toronto has a long way to go, but the journey is well under way.
And as Libeskind noted, "Architecture isn't made of words."
Good thing, too.
CHRISTOPHER HUME
NEW YORK�Could architecture do for Toronto what it did for Bilbao?
That was the question posed at a panel convened this week in downtown Manhattan. The participants � distinguished architects Will Alsop, Jack Diamond, Daniel Libeskind and Bruce Kuwabara � didn't agree on much, only that architecture can make a difference.
Organized by the Canadian Consulate, the Van Alen Institute and the American Institute of Architecture, the 90-minute session featured more soap-boxing then verbal fencing. Certainly no New Yorker in attendance could have accused the Canuck contingent of blowing its collective horn; in good Canadian tradition, there was plenty of self-deprecation, verging on self-criticism.
Bilbao, as most of the planet now knows, is an old Spanish industrial city on the Atlantic coast where the Frank Gehry-designed Guggenheim Museum was built in the 1990s. The highly sculptural, titanium-clad structure easily ranks as one of the most significant, and controversial, pieces of architecture of the past 20 years.
Gehry's great building was enough to turn around a city that had been in decline for decades and transform it into a global destination. But as was pointed out several times, Bilbao didn't just build an art gallery; it invested heavily in its civic infrastructure. The city hired leading Spanish architect, Santiago Calatrava, to design its new airport and Norman Foster of London for its new subway system.
Toronto, on the other hand, is in the midst of a building boom that includes major additions to the Art Gallery of Ontario (designed by Gehry), the Royal Ontario Museum (Libeskind), the Gardiner Museum of Ceramic Art, (Kuwabara Payne McKenna Blumberg), the National Ballet School of Canada (KPMB) and the Royal Conservatory of Music (KPMB). By the end of next year, Toronto will also have an opera house, the Four Seasons Performing Arts Centre, designed by Diamond. Then there's Alsop's Sharp Centre for Design at the Ontario College of Art and Design, the much-debated flying tabletop. Love it or hate it, it is a genuine architectural icon.
"Toronto is a very interesting city," Alsop told a crowd of expatriate Torontonians and curious New Yorkers on Tuesday night. "When I first went there, I thought it was horrible."
That was five years ago; since then, Alsop has not only learned to love the city, he even opened an office here.
"Let's not talk about the Bilbao Effect," argued Alsop, winner of the U.K.'s most prestigious architecture award, the Stirling Prize. "Let's talk about the Toronto defect."
Though he never explained exactly what that meant, he did insist that Toronto is undergoing huge changes that will make it a different place.
"Toronto's a city that will never be the same again," Libeskind said, echoing Alsop.
What's important, he insisted, isn't infrastructure, transportation, accessibility or beauty, but "the spirit of a city."
Libeskind said Toronto has a flexible attitude to development. The result, he said, has been "a revolution in architectural expectations."
Based in New York, Libeskind also argued that the iconic buildings aren't to be taken too seriously. They represent "a cartoon version of identity," not the real thing.
"Toronto's kind of ugly," admitted Kuwabara, one of this city's leading architects. "It's civilized and civil, but it's missing some things such as great parks and great civic spaces. But Toronto's a very young city; it's still in formation. It's an incredibly exciting time to be an architect in Toronto. Our job is to create platforms that will allow these institutions to succeed."
For Diamond, the beauty of Toronto lies in the coherence and continuity of its street grid and its uniformly unassuming architecture. He made it clear that he disapproves of the kinds of projects produced by Libeskind and Alsop, which are deliberately designed as exceptions to the civic rule.
Diamond's commitment to "good urban manners" is shown in the Four Seasons Performing Arts Centre at Queen and University. This building bends over backwards to be polite.
The Bilbao Effect, however, depends on the extraordinary as well as the conventional. It requires spectacle in addition to background. Toronto architects tend to be more proficient at the latter; in contrast, Alsop and Libeskind have specialized in the former.
But the city is a big place; it encompasses many approaches, tastes and intentions, some ordinary and some remarkable. Toronto's strength, as its motto states, is its diversity.
The cumulative effect of all the cultural building projects now under construction in Toronto will be enormous. How could it be otherwise? Every one will enrich the city, and already the world is paying attention.
Whether we achieve the critical mass required to produce a Bilbao Effect, however, remains to be seen. It's unlikely, but that's not the point.
"There's a pent-up desire to see something new," Kuwabara said of Toronto.
He's right. Cities, like the institutions within them, must change, grow and evolve. They must adapt or die. Toronto has a long way to go, but the journey is well under way.
And as Libeskind noted, "Architecture isn't made of words."
Good thing, too.