www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs...9956310551
Heart of Toronto needs a transfusion
Oct. 5, 2006. 10:24 AM
CHRISTOPHER HUME
The city is many cities. It is a place we occupy physically and emotionally. It exists within the landscape and the imagination equally.
The public realm is where these different cities converge and become one. That's why public spaces are so critical to civic health and why Nathan Phillips Square is so important to Toronto.
There's nothing else that fulfills the same role as Nathan Phillips Square; it is, quite simply, the heart of Toronto, our designated civic centre, a place invested with special significance. It's where we gather to mark community events, ring in the New Year and where the revolution will start.
Designed in the late 1950s and early '60s by Finnish architect Viljo Revell, Toronto City Hall and Nathan Phillips Square represent one of just two fully realized modernist projects in this city — the other being Ludwig Mies van der Rohe's Toronto-Dominion Centre. Unlike the latter, the former has become the architectural symbol of the city, a complex that expresses the aspirations of a city that yearns for greatness.
But 40 years after Revell's masterpiece was completed, it may be time to look at the square with fresh eyes.
That's why the city has launched a $40 million international competition to redesign Nathan Phillips Square.
There's much for competitors to deal with: To start with, there's the issue of the walkway, the raised pedestrian arcade that surrounds the square on three sides. Revell's intentions were clearly to provide a protective enclosure for the area within, to demarcate civic space from the urban space without. But at some point the walkway was closed and turned into a dead zone. The stairwells are blocked and we are clearly not welcome.
"The structure of the colonnade," wrote William Dendy in his excellent 1986 book, Toronto Observed, "functions exactly as did the colonnades surrounding the marketplaces of ancient Greece and Rome. Its summer shade, and winter shelter from wind, snow and rain are important amenities. Like its Classical forebears, it outlines the space and gives it a positive identity. To this is added a particularly North American purpose, for without tightly enclosing the square and cutting it off from the surrounding city which would reduce the square's value as a civic meeting space — the colonnade manages to keep street traffic and chaos at bay, at least visually."
Though one might question Dendy's assertion that the walkway provides shelter from the elements, there's no arguing with his idea that it blocks the chaos of the city.
On the other hand, it also means the entrance to the square, especially at the corner of Queen and Bay, is much less imposing than it could be. Indeed, the whole Queen Street edge has become problematic; it has devolved into patches of dead grass punctuated with concrete columns and an unfortunate statue of Winston Churchill.
Should the walkway be removed? Should it stay and be rehabilitated? And what about the ramp that swoops up to the front of City Hall? It was originally intended to serve as the main ceremonial entrance to the Council Chamber but has also been closed off for decades.
Then there's that unpleasant concrete box that serves as a change room during the winter when the pond becomes a skating rink; it is an eyesore.
Perhaps the Peace Garden should also be rethought. It doesn't fit in terribly well and it's unlikely anyone would notice were it to disappear.
The competition will be extremely interesting to anyone who cares about Toronto and its most meaningful symbol. And regardless of who wins, it's important that the square be treated with utmost respect. Maybe it needs nothing more than a clean-up. Then again, perhaps it can be improved.
If nothing else, the competition should encourage debate about the nature of civic space and the public realm in the 21st century. To some the very notion may seem hopelessly outdated. They are wrong, of course, but as Toronto becomes increasingly suburbanized in its attitudes, who really cares about something as old-fashioned and idealistic as a city square?
To some, Nathan Phillips Square is just the roof of an underground parking garage; it's what happens below grade that matters.