Yule Heibel on 2008-01-01
- strange: this makes T.O. sounds as hidebound as Victoria when it comes to accepting (never mind embracing) change...
A second article by Christopher Hume on Toronto's changed skyline and streetscapes, particularly as manifested by Libeskind's ROM addition.
Can a building change a city?
Probably not, but it can alter the way we see it.
The hostility that has greeted Daniel Libeskind's addition is an indication of just how dramatic, even wrenching, that reappraisal has been.
The response from some has been hysterical, apoplectic, but that's good, too.
In a city like Toronto, where change happens slowly and grudgingly, the shock of the new can be painful. At a time when the future seems so threatening, we are understandably reluctant to let go of the past.
That's not to say everyone will love Libeskind's deliberately provocative contribution. With its sharp edges and leaning walls, it looms over the corner of Bloor and Queen's Park in a way that can't be ignored. It demands we engage with it and refuses to leave us alone. In this sense, it ranks among the most public pieces of architecture ever erected in Toronto. Which is another reason so many of us aren't sure what to make of it.
At the very least, its appearance marks 2007 as a turning point in the life of the city. It will be to the early 21st century what City Hall was to the second half of the 20th century, one of those rare instances when Toronto stepped outside its usual conservatism to do something entirely out of character.
The first result of Toronto's new-found boldness was, of course, the Sharp Design Centre at the Ontario College of Art and Design. Created by English architect Will Alsop, it is a two-storey box suspended high above the ground on 12 multi-coloured steel stilts.
Not surprisingly, Alsop's "flying tabletop" was met with howls of outrage. Torontonians, especially architects, had never seen anything like it and they weren't impressed. That was back in 2003; now this unique structure is arguably one of the most popular in the city.
Both Alsop and Libeskind have been criticized for being more interested in designing architectural icons than city-building. The truth is that in both cases, they have accomplished both. This isn't always so; just take a look at the condo tower Libeskind has designed for the west side of the Sony Centre (formerly the Hummingbird Centre). This is as kitschy and inappropriate a piece of architecture as one could imagine on this site or any. Resembling nothing so much as a Vivienne Westwood boot, it fails on any number of levels.
But the Crystal, like the Sharp, manages to be a landmark as well as a solution to practical issues of circulation, access, program and the like. Both projects make it clear that a building need not be dull in order to be useful.
This link has been bookmarked by 1 people . It was first bookmarked on 01 Jan 2008, by Yule Heibel.
A second article by Christopher Hume on Toronto's changed skyline and streetscapes, particularly as manifested by Libeskind's ROM addition.
Can a building change a city?
Probably not, but it can alter the way we see it.
The hostility that has greeted Daniel Libeskind's addition is an indication of just how dramatic, even wrenching, that reappraisal has been.
The response from some has been hysterical, apoplectic, but that's good, too.
In a city like Toronto, where change happens slowly and grudgingly, the shock of the new can be painful. At a time when the future seems so threatening, we are understandably reluctant to let go of the past.
Yule Heibel on 2008-01-01
- strange: this makes T.O. sounds as hidebound as Victoria when it comes to accepting (never mind embracing) change...
Public Stiky Notes
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