The United Building, restoration and conversion, with the addition of a new 55-storey tower, of the former 1928 Maclean Publishing building at 210 Dundas St. W. in Toronto.B + H Architects
Based on some very quick research – so forgive me if I’m a bit off with numbers – it took about 31,700 tonnes of steel to build the battleship USS South Dakota in 1939. So that’s too big. But the average Second World War submarine required between 800 and 1,500 tonnes of steel.
Which means the 1,200 tonnes currently holding up the 1928 Maclean Publishing building at 210 Dundas St. W. (Toronto-based architect Murray Brown along with New York’s Schultze and Weaver, architects of the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel) and, around the corner, 481 University Ave., the 1961 Mad Men-style office building (by Toronto’s Marani and Morris), can, perhaps, add a fifth submarine to the Royal Canadian Navy’s fleet … or be used to manufacture a heck of a lot of airplanes.
Of course, the steel will be in use for a little while longer, as the new 55-storey tower by B+H Architects reaches for the same clouds sailing past the Canadian Airmen’s Memorial (colloquially known as “Gumby Goes to Heaven”) on wide, wonderful University Avenue south of Queen’s Park. But, as I walk in the criss-crossing shadows created by all of that steel, with rough concrete and construction debris underfoot, I feel more like I’m in the hull of a battleship, with bolted plates securing odd intersections, big Jenga-like, checkerboarded chunks, and an army of slim, red, structural columns for company.
Oh, I have human company as well: B+H principal Mark Berest and senior associate Geoff Hodgetts, along with ERA heritage architect Graeme Stewart, and all three are excited to share what is being billed as “the tallest architectural heritage retention development in North America.”
“It’s a top-down thing,” Mr. Hodgetts says of the construction method. “So, as soon as they reached level 10 and they poured the slab to tie into heritage façades, at that point they were then free to start dismantling [the steel]. … As we’ve progressed down, they’ve removed the steel and poured and removed the steel and poured.”
It’s a tonne (pardon the punne) of back-of-house/behind the scenes labour and considerable extra cost – it would have been easier to take the heritage buildings apart, store them, and then rebuild but that increases the risk of damaged or lost pieces – but it’s something Davpart CEO David Hofstedter is happy to do, says Mr. Berest: “As an immigrant himself … and having done well it was really important for him to give back.”
But what is Davpart, developer of the “United Building,” giving back beyond the retention of two significant heritage buildings, more than 700 condominium units and new office and retail space? The most significant gift, and the one the average pedestrian will notice, is the new colonnade along Dundas Street.
Here, a relatively narrow sidewalk and streetcar stop combine to create considerable congestion. And, for art-lovers trying to take in (or photograph) the 1958 bas-relief sculpture by Elizabeth Wyn Wood (Receiving the male representation of communication; the female, Sending, is on the Edward Street façade), it was next to impossible to pause and do so. By pushing the sculpture back, opening the first bay of the 1929 building on Centre Avenue and then blasting all the way through the 1961 building to meet University Avenue, a columned, arch-topped, well-lit public walkway with a nine-metre ceiling will be created. For further drama and interest, the two Wood sculptures will be regilded and lit.
“From the public realm perspective, [it’s about] cleaning up and tidying that section in the front,” says Mr. Stewart of the corner of University and Dundas. And that new breathing room, he continues, may help passersby notice the architecture as well. “It’s very Art Deco,” he says about the 1928 building, “and people have walked by it for years and not really thought of it as being remarkable.”
Some of the heritage limestone on the 1961 building – during the early build-out of University Avenue the city had a requirement that buildings be faced with it – will be echoed on the new, slim tower. As our little group walks to examine where the new building meets the Marani and Morris one 10 storeys up, there is already a limestone frame outlining the floating townhouses above our heads, as well four long arms that rise up the north side of the tower.
“It’ll basically match, more or less [when it weathers] and it’s real stone,” says Mr. Berest. “A thin face and you can see it’s mounted on this waferboard – it’s panelized and easy to manipulate – but it’s still expensive.”
The tower has been pushed back and split into two slim volumes because B+H were required to preserve views behind Toronto City Hall; any taller or wider and it would’ve put itself dangerously close to the 20-storey west tower.
On the 13th floor, I examine the hole where the swimming pool will eventually be while Mr. Berest chats about the reflecting pool and zen garden: “I tried to pitch a skating rink up here instead of the reflecting pool – I thought it would be great,” he says with a laugh.
What’s really great is when Torontonians can choose to live on intensely urban streets such as University Avenue, a wide, ceremonial, international street populated with monuments, sculpture and life. It’s even better when a developer contributes to that life with creative solutions rather than sucks it away with a horrible sidewalk presence.
Perhaps some of that dismantled steel can be used to make a new monument if the hoped-for redevelopment of University Avenue comes to fruition: “As we all know, University [Avenue] is pretty tired right now,” finishes Mr. Stewart. “We all hope University Park happens.”