Rendering

When I see a streetscape like this one, my mind immediately conjures the architectural rendering used by the architects to win the client's approval. I can only imagine it had human figure, much like the one in the photo. I can guarantee you it had the row of freshly planted trees.

What it didn't have, I'm guessing, is the Pizza Pizza sign, or any indication of how the materials - plastic for the table and chairs, brushed steel and glass for the building, concrete for the sidewalk - would feel in the real, non-rendered world.

What the rendering failed to capture was how every single thing, short of siting a coal-gasification plant/brothel beside the Pizza Pizza, is wrong about this streetscape. Brutalism, 90s-style. Yes, it's possible to be brutalist and incredibly bland.

The Slab That Inspired This Blog

Here it is.

Though it's clearly visible from the corner of Bay and Dundas, I've been in and out of this neighbourhood for years and never noticed this building. Who knew ugliness could serve as camouflage. Oh wait, the British Navy had some ideas about that in the First World War.

Anyhow, I was walking back from the Best Buy on Dundas one day last winter when I happened to look up. True to the brutalist ethos, beholding this monstrosity was like a punch in the face. I literally stopped mid-stride. Frozen.

Then, I began to ask questions.


My mind was taken to the architect's drafting board, where I imagined looking over his shoulder as he made design decisions. Why not have concrete extend past the face of the building? Why not make a motif of it?

Indeed, why not carry that motif into some poured concrete that resembled a person.

A person turning toward us, with arm outstretched. That would make the poured concrete even more welcoming. If that were possible.

I think about the moment the architect knew the design of the building was done. The plans were submitted, approved, and stamped. Hands were shaken, and a big cheque cut. Perhaps even drinks were had. And all that remains of those fleeting moments is this.

And so it shall remain. For so many years to come.

Nice vista. Shame about the skyline.

One photo says it all. Meh.

Like a glimmer of light in a foreboding tunnel, there's a little Mies peaking out from behind the mediocre bank towers of the 1970s, 80s and 90s.

And to think the Toronto skyline once looked like this:


What a promising beginning. Less is more, indeed.