Why Vancouver's viaducts cannot be the High Line

Though City staff are set to release their report this summer, all signs are pointing to the Dunsmuir and Georgia viaducts getting the old heave-ho. Anyone paying a smidgen of attention to the talk at city hall, and specifically Cllr Geoff Meggs who has taken the viaducts on for awhile, would know that the preferred option is to see the viaducts removed in favour of more parkland, room for development, and a generally better stitched together neighbourhood. While careful traffic impact studies need to be done before the viaducts can be removed, car traffic into downtown has been decreasing steadily in the past decade and will probably continue to do so. The viaducts right now only handle a fraction of the car traffic they were originally designed to handle.

A design competition a few months ago sparked interest in alternative plans for the area and the viaducts themselves, and, given the success of New York's High Line park (which, unless you have been living under a rock, you'll know is an elevated rail trestle converted into an uber-design linear park), it's no surprise that some people are pushing for Vancouver to copy New York and turn the viaducts into something similar.

This is a bad idea.

While cities should look to other cities for design and planning ideas that they can incorporate, we've seen time and time again that many ideas--be they a pedestrian street or a casino or a Ferris wheel--are context specific and not necessarily transferable. You can't just take the idea for the High Line, transplant it onto Vancouver's viaducts and get the same result. It's tempting to think this way, but dangerous and costly.

They're expensive

The viaducts are expensive to maintain. Meggs estimates that the City will need to spend around $10 million over the next 15 years just to maintain the structures. I'm sure that price would be much higher if we were to load them full of dirt and plants and trees. At Toronto's annual Park Summit a few weekends ago, I heard Richard Hammond, one of the co-founders of the High Line, speak about how the High Line is an incredibly expensive park to maintain because of its high usage, but also because of the nature of its design. No doubt a park on the viaducts would be extremely expensive to maintain, more so than a traditional park, not only because of the aging infrastructure, but the landscape of the park as well.

photo by jmv from Flickr (cc)

They're ugly

The viaducts are hideous pieces of urban infrastructure. Originally supposed to be the on ramps to an urban highway that never materialized, they were never meant to be anything but utilitarian. From underneath they're about as inviting as an underground parking garage in a horror film. The High Line, while still a large and intimidating piece of infrastructure with its iron beams, doesn't have the same look as a concrete highway. Plus, its historic background as the route for goods being shipped into that part of the city gives it a kind of romantic tinge as a piece of New York history. Arguably, the viaducts are also a piece of Vancouver's history, but one that represents a short-lived moment and, ultimately, a mistake.

Additionally, the sheer bulk of the viaducts acts as much more of a neighbourhood killer than the High Line. The picture below typifies what the High Line looks like from the side. The infrastructure itself is less imposing and more elegant. It's also lower to the ground, and is already surrounded by significant development abutting it in many places.

photo by erikorama from Flickr (cc)

They're too short 

The High Line winds its way through a pretty long stretch of Manhattan, passing by many interesting areas of the city. The viaducts are simply too short to really offer what the High Line does--namely, a strollable stretch of carefully designed landscape. Park of the magic of walking the High Line is not only taking in how the design changes from block to block to block, but about how the city around it changes. The High Line offers an always evolving landscape and accompanying cityscape, something the viaducts do not. While the viaducts would offer a beautiful view of False Creek and probably some mountain views, this is not really something too hard to come by in Vancouver already. The city has more beautiful vistas than some countries.

So, what then?

The plan put forward by Dialog/Beasley/PWL/Green, which is featured in the City's slideshow about the viaducts and was one of the winners of its re:Connect contest, is an intelligent, beautiful, and, most of all, Vancouver-specific, solution to the problem of the viaducts. It would combine Pacific and Expo into one road, increase parkland in the area, introduce a winding stream leading out of False Creek into the urban fabric, and, most importantly, work to knit together Strathcona, Chinatown and the Downtown Eastside, to a waterfront they have been disconnected from for years.

The plan put forward by Dialog/Beasley/PWL/Green

This plan represents far more parkland than could be obtained from greening the tops of the viaducts, and, while the plan is not without its own expenses, would likely represent less of a maintenance burden on the city. No doubt a new urban stream, a new urban beach, and significant amounts of parkland would spur interest from developers--all this and without unsightly water-stained concrete slabs nearby.

While the High Line is a great park for New York and works wonderfully there, let's not kid ourselves into thinking that our viaducts represent the same opportunity. What we do have though, is an opportunity to create a new amazing part of Vancouver's waterfront and connect the rest of the city to it. Yes, I think Vancouver should be bold and creative, but being bold and creative shouldn't mean copy-pasting something from New York just because it worked there.

Toronto Needs More Bike Parking in Parks

Recently, the City revamped Sally Bird Park, this little parkette on Brunswick near Harbord. They landscaped the park, added bench, and also three strange work-out machines. But what they forgot, and what the City frequently seems to forget in parks, is a place to lock your bike.

There are clear spots for four ring-and-posts in the space where the park's fence is set back from the sidewalk. As usual, when there is no infrastructure provided, people make-do; this time by locking their bikes to the fence. I've seen as many as six bikes locked up here before.

While there is a decent amount of ring-and-posts on commercial streets in Toronto, there is a dearth of bicycle parking along the residential streets in small parks like this one. This means that when people are at a park, or visiting friends on a residential street, they either have to walk awhile to find actual bike parking, or lock up to a fence or pole, which doesn't provide the same amount of security and, I'm sure, is annoying to residents and the City.

Walking New York's High Line Park

I know, I know. The High Line, right? So sick of hearing about it. Or, maybe you're not. Maybe you're like that one person I met on my recent trip to New York that had never heard of it. A New Yorker that hadn't heard of the High Line. Kind of like a Torontonian that hadn't heard of the CN Tower. I kind of wanted to slap him.

However, I'm going to assume you've heard of it and don't want to read something else that talks about its innovative reuse of old infrastructure and blah blah blah. I'm just going to show you some pretty pictures.

I walked the High Line twice on my trip, and, if it were legal, I would live there. I wanted to fold it all up, accordion-style, and bring it back to Toronto with me. But then I realized that once unfolded here in Toronto, Rob Ford would probably pave over all the grass and turn it into an elevated highway. Best it stays in New York for now.

As 30 Rock's Liz Lemon so aptly puts it: "I want to go to there."

Sherbourne Common, Nightclub Edition

It's official. I love Sherbourne Common.

While the park is sure a beaut' of a public space during the day--with its whimsical play equipment, water canals, splash pad, and groundhog sitings--it turns into a whole other beast at night when coloured lights play off the falling water of Jill Anholt's sculptures. Some of the lights even change from blue to green when you walk past them. For a full review of the new waterfront park, check out my article on Torontoist.

Here's a few pictures I took when I was there last night to wet your whistle.

That Time I Went To Sherbourne Common and Saw a Groundhog

After receiving a copy of Reshaping Toronto's Waterfront from University of Toronto Press, I thought the perfect place to begin reading this would be none other than the waterfront park pictured on the front cover of the book--Sugar Beach. I've written about Sugar Beach previously, so I won't say much about it now save for the fact that there was a hulking ship docked at the Redpath Sugar Refinery that was sending metallic reverberations out into the air as it unloaded its haul of yellowy unrefined sugar.

The waterfront is a strange place to be right now. There are completed projects like Sugar Beach and the Corus building, which sit amidst an otherwise vast expanse of either industrial lands or construction sites at various stages of completion.

After a particularly muscular wind caused me to eat too much white sand at Sugar Beach, I packed up my belongings and decided to head over to check out Sherbourne Common--or the completed part at least--since I hadn't yet taken a look.

The first half of the park opened September 24, 2010, and, while the second half is still under construction, you can start to begin to see how it will take shape. There were several constructions workers there on the day I visited working to install some weird public art.

The completed part of the park is a very alluring combination of bridges, shallow canals, hard surface, and a grassy expanse. There is also a funky building that houses, amongst other things, washrooms.

Right now the completed Sherbourne Common is a bit of an orphaned space. Eventually it will be sandwiched between development, creating a closed in feeling that will hopefully give the park a more cohesive feel. It's a bit difficult at this point to envision how all the new waterfront spaces are going to stitch together, but if the whole is anything like the parts then it's going to be pretty dazzling. However, Sherbourne Common, set further east of Sugar Beach (which was quite full on a mid-week day afternoon), was virtually empty except for me...and some creature underneath one of the bridges.

My curious gaze frightened whatever it was out of the safety of the bridge and out it came, furry and looking like a beaver with a bushy tale.

Being the sensitive animal lover I am, I proceeded to chase, what I later determined to be a groundhog, across the concrete expanse of the Common until it disappeared into the bushes on the other side.

So you see? Waterfront Toronto's ambition to reconnect Toronto to its waterfront, and thus to nature, has already seen success.

Video: Silent 1940s Film of Vancouver's Parks

Have you ever walked around Stanley Park and wished you could watch a 45 minute silent documentary film from 1940 on Vancouver's parks? Well, look no further than this video from the Vancouver Archives. The video features footage of Memorial West Park, Grandview Park, Trout Lake, Queen Elizabeth Park, and many more. Of particularly interest are shots of Victory Square in the Downtown Eastside, which captures Vancouver's old streetcars going by in the background.

Also, check out the Vancouver Archives' new blog, AuthentiCity.

Toronto's Very Own Muscle Beach

OK, so not really.

A few weeks ago I walked by Sally Bird Park near the corner of Brunswick and Harbord and noticed something strange inside. Not a bench. Not a fountain. But what appeared to be a bench press and one of those strange running-glider-workout-things. Curious, I investigated further.

During the summer I saw signs up in the park that notified residents that reconstruction and improvements were coming as part of Canada's Economic Action Plan. The money to redo the park is part of the Recreational Infrastructure Canada Program (RInC), with money coming from the municipal, provincial and federal levels.

Apparently, during consultation the public requested, among some safety improvements, that children's playground equipment be replaced with "adult oriented exercise equipment". There was also a request for a "water feature" to draw children to the park, which seems a bit contradictory. Perhaps the water feature is the sweat running off their parents face as they run/glide in place while their children sit and stare at the grass.

Anyway, if you're looking for a place to get in a good work out and then feed some pigeons, look no further than Sally Bird Park.

Picturesque Percy Park Pleasantly Pleases

A few weeks ago I and a few of my school chums were wandering around the area near the future West Don Lands project and stumbled across what appeared to be a park squeezed between an overpass and a bunch of very old buildings. What we had found was Percy Park, which is not even listed as an official park by the City of Toronto (it still shows up as a playground, even though its play equipment is now gone). It was redone in 2006 by Green Force, a show on HGTV about revamping urban spaces.

Here's a before-and-after shot. The 'before' photo is taken from an online community newsletter called The Bulletin and the credit goes to Cindy Wilkey. The 'after' photo is my own.

Before!

After!

And just to give you all a sense of how close this park is to the overpass.

This is the little street that terminates in the new Percy Park.

There is some new development near the King St mouth of the street, which attempts to pay homage to the old style Victorian houses, but doesn't quite end up doing it right. There is also now a very ugly concrete mouth of a parking garage entrance at the end of the street.

Go check it out. It's a great example of what could have been a stifled, depressing public space being turned into something really cool. Its location is exactly in the centre of the map above, at the end of Percy street and abutting the Richmond Street overpass.

A Walk in Nordheimer Ravine Reveals, Among Other Things, a Giant Spider Web

A few days ago, after being holed up in the apartment all day, my Exploring Partner and I decided to check out Nordheimer Ravine, which lies just just south of St. Clair between Avenue Road and Bathurst Street. I have now lived in Toronto for nearly six months and what is great is that I'm still discovering things about this city--things that lie just beyond the boundaries of my apartment within a short walking distance.

Nordheimer Ravine is one of those places where, if I may indulge in a cliche, the city just disappears around you. We entered the ravine off Bolton Drive and immediately were swallowed up by the fiery Autumn colours. For those that lament Toronto flatness, the ravine is a welcome change in topography. It is also the site of one of Toronto's numerous "lost rivers". Castlefrank Brook lies buried beneath.

The path we chose let us out at Sir Winston Churchill Park, which actually sits on top of one of Toronto's water reservoirs. The park seems to be the kind of place that is good for two activities: 1) allowing your dog to romp around with other dogs in the fenced-in off leash area, and 2) running around in circles on its top perimeter. Maybe it's the inevitable onset of winter, or the fact that I haven't lived in a place that gets enough snow to actually do this, but I find myself constantly on the look-out for good places to go sledding once the white stuff drops. The sides of Sir Winston Churchill Park, which slope drastically down into Nordheimer Ravine, look to be the perfect spot to pick up some good speed and not worry about slamming into anything hard at the bottom.

There are a few architecturally grand buildings around, which were done in 1930. I particularly liked the one on the south side. If this had been built today it would be a functional, yet non de-script box, but back then they did things with a bit more flair.

We followed Nordheimer Ravine, where we came upon what appeared to be a subway entrance, but turned out to be an emergency exit. This exit was put to good use in 1995 when a train rear-ended another in the tunnel, trapping people for hours as the temperature rose to over 40 degrees (you can read more here).

Further on, there is another piece of subway infrastructure, this time in the form of a worker entrance/exit. A few bags of garbage labelled TTC were piled at the front and some graffiti was sprayed across its concrete surface. It's unclear whether they are reclaiming this particular area, of if it's a general message to be applied across the city. The shape is kind of interesting, almost like it is welcoming you in with its concrete flippers.

We also, surprise surprise, ran into some yarn-bombing--one of my new favourite forms of street art. This time no nails were put through the tree to hold the yarn (although it appears to be just a dead log). We didn't stick around to find out if there was a similarly sized yarn spider around.

Then the ravine ends, and we were spat back out into Toronto at the site of the St. Clair West subway station. In a city where a lot of natural topographical elements were either shaved off or filled in, it's nice to come across a place like Nordheimer Ravine.