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Source: Taylor Noakes Je ne suis pas souvent d'accord avec ce type, mais ce billet est intéressant. Cliquez le lien pour y voir les photos nécessaire pour bien comprendre l'article. Came across an interesting conversation on Montreal City Weblog that started out about a bit of news that the Hilton Bonaventure is up for sale but ended up on the subject of some of our city’s ugliest buildings. The question was whether the entirety of Place Bonaventure was on the block or just the Hotel (and what the Hotel’s stake in the building was, by extension), and one commentator stated he’d prefer to see the building destroyed and replaced with a ‘proper European-styled train station, a worthy Southern Entrance to the city’ (I’m paraphrasing but that was the gist of it). Ultimately it is just the hotel that is for sale. Of note, the Delta Centre-Ville (another building I have mixed feelings about) recently announced it is closing in October, putting some 350 people out of work. The University Street building, co-located with the Tour de la Bourse is to be converted into – get this – high-end student housing. I don’t know if the rotating restaurant on the upper floors is still operational, but I’m going to find out. I can imagine a high-priced and slightly nauseating meal with a fantastic if intermittent view awaits… The Hilton Bonaventure occupies the top floors of Place Bonaventure, a building designed from the inside-out that was originally conceived as an international trade centre and convention space. When opened in 1967 it boasted an immense convention hall, five floors of international wholesalers, two floors of retail shopping, a collection of international trade mission head offices and the aforementioned hotel. The building was heavily modified in 1998, losing its wholesale and retail shopping component as it was converted into office space. The exterior is in the brutalist style of poured, ribbed concrete, some of which has cracked and fallen off. Though an architecturally significant building, it’s far from a beauty. The rooftop hotel is perhaps the building’s best feature, involving a sumptuous interior aesthetic heavy on earth tones interacting with plenty of natural sunlight, bathing the hotel’s multiple levels while simultaneously exposing the well-cultivated rooftop garden and pool. In any event, the discussion on Montreal City Weblog brought up general disinterest in Place Bonaventure’s looks, but commentators had other ideas about what they considered to be our city’s truly ugliest building. Montreal Forum, circa 1996. Montreal Forum, circa 1996. Weblog curator Kate McDonnell’s pick is the Cineplex Pepsi AMC Forum Entertainment Complex Extravaganza (brought to you by Jonathan Wener at Canderel Realty). I won’t disgrace the pages of this blog by showing you what it looks like – just go take a waltz around Ste-Catherine’s and Atwater and when you start dry heaving you’ll know you’re looking at one of the worst architectural abominations to ever befall a self-respecting society. The above image is what the Forum looked like pre-conversion, probably shortly after the Habs moved to the Bell Centre (formerly the Molson Centre, formerly General Dynamics Land Systems Place). This would’ve been the Forum’s second or third makeover since it was first built in the 1920s, and as you can see, a strong local Modernist vibe with just a touch of the playful in the inter-lacing escalators deigned to look like crossed hockey sticks is pretty much all there is to it. Simple, straightforward, even a touch serious – a building that looked like the ‘most storied building in hockey history’. But today – yea gods. Frankly I’m surprised we haven’t formed a mob to arson it all the way back to hell, where the current incarnation of the Montreal Forum aptly belongs. From what I’ve heard Satan needs a multiplex on which to show nothing but Ishtar. All that aside, I agree that the Forum is awfully ugly, but it’s not my choice for ugliest city-wide. Other suggestions from the conversation included the Port Royal Apartments on Sherbrooke and the National Bank Building on Place d’Armes, though commentators seemed to agree this was mostly because they felt the building was out of place, and rendered ugly more by the context of its surroundings, or its imposition upon them, than anything else. The Big O was mentioned, as was Concordia’s ice-cube tray styled Hall Building. La Cité was brought up as an ultimately failed project that disrupts a more cohesive human-scale neighbourhood, and so were some of McGill’s mid-1970s pavilions. Surprisingly, the Chateau Champlain wasn’t brought up, though I’ve heard many disparage it as nothing but a fanciful cheese-grater. 1200 McGill College - Centre Capitol 1200 McGill College – Centre Capitol But after all that is said and done, I’m not convinced we’ve found Montreal’s ugliest building. My personal choice is 1200 McGill College, the building above, a drab and dreary brown brick and smoked glass office tower of no particular architectural merit or patrimonial value that I personally believe is ugly by virtue of marring the beauty of the buildings around it, notably Place Ville Marie and just about everything else on McGill College. Worse still, it replaced what was once a grand theatre – the Capitol – with something that would ultimately become a large Roger’s call centre. Ick. However much corporate office real estate our city happens to have, we could all do without whatever this puny out-of-style building provides. Suffice it to say, I would gladly sell tickets to its implosion. But in writing this article I remembered a building even more hideous and out of place than 1200 McGill College: This monstrosity… Avis Parking Garage on Dorchester Square - credit to Spacing Montreal Avis Parking Garage on Dorchester Square – credit to Spacing Montreal There is simply no excuse for a multi-level parking garage conceived in such ostentatiously poor taste to occupy such a prime piece of real estate as this, and so I can only infer that the proprietor is either making a killing in the parking game or, that the proprietor is waiting to try and get building height restrictions relaxed. It’d be a great spot for a tony condo complex, but given that it’s wedged between the iconic Sun Life and Dominion Square buildings it’s likely the lot has some significant zoning restrictions, making a tower – the only really viable residential model given the size of the plot – highly unlikely. I can’t imagine a tower on this spot would do anything but take away from the already hyper precise proportions of the square. Personally, I think the spot would be ideal for a medium-sized venue, especially considering it’s adjacent to the preserved former Loews Theatre, currently occupied by the Mansfield Athletic Association. In better days the city might have the means to redevelop the former Loews into a new performance venue; a gym can go anywhere, an authentic turn of the century vaudeville-styled theatre is a precious commodity these days. Think about it – a medium-sized theatre and performance complex in the middle of a pre-existing entertainment and retail shopping district. I think that might work here. Either way – boo on this parking lot. And come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind seeing just about every single modernist apartment tower built in the McGill and Concordia ghettoes in the 1960s and 1970s removed from the skyline as well. But I leave it to you – what do you think is the single ugliest building in Montreal? Feel free to send pics if you have them.

As you can see from the following pictures, this handsome 1950 building (mostly known for its Mourelatos) has cleaned graffitis, new doorway, kicked out the shady dance school. I would bet this will be student residences / apartments, but they might have to get it rezoned? July 22nd 2013: Summer 2012:

This is the same building as Angela Pizza. Walked by today, noticed some heavy renovations going on at "ground" floor level. All graffitis cleaned up. Peeked inside and saw plenty of ladders and fresh new walls. I think this is a handsome rugged building that deserves a facelift. Gives me NYC vibes. It's been abandoned for as long as I can remember though I think there was a dental clinic in there at some point. Googled a bit for 1668 Maisonneuve and found this listing as well as this Altus profile. [sTREETVIEW]https://maps.google.com/maps?q=maisonneuve+at+st-mathieu,+montreal&hl=en&ll=45.494924,-73.580168&spn=0.001765,0.004106&sll=45.55097,-73.702207&sspn=0.225754,0.525627&hnear=Maisonneuve+Blvd+W+%26+St+Mathieu+St,+Montreal,+Quebec,+Canada&t=m&z=19&layer=c&cbll=45.495001,-73.58008&panoid=-CcEf2QVZaTxF67hFVvEag&cbp=12,152.08,,0,-17.9[/sTREETVIEW]

Details on first page here: http://www.westmountindependent.com/WIv7.6a.pdf Essentially: Demolish building, build condos Developer: EMD Construction 2 story underground parking 57 unites, six stories

Du Globe and Mail In Montreal, delicate design gestures help us forget the big scandals By day and by night, there are adults flying through the air at Montreal’s Quartier des Spectacles on oversize, colourful swings. Streams of cyclists whip by on dedicated bike paths. Warmed by the spring sunshine, students and gallerygoers lounge on the steps at Place des Arts, where the joys of museum, opera and symphony are recognized with fortissimo. It would seem that everything is just as it should be in Montreal, where bonhomie thrives and an art has been made of small-scale urban architecture. In the leafy neighbourhood of Saint-Louis, where many artists have made their homes, the ghost of architect Luc Laporte lives on. From an 1880s commercial building on Rue St. Denis, he punched a generous, rounded arch through the masonry to connect his instant landmark bistro directly to the street; rather than depending on loud signage, he preferred to emphasize the building as sign. L’Express is a classic, with a heated, black-and-white tiled front terrace, still beloved – still packed – 33 years after he designed it. But the sweetness of the small architectural intervention is sadly being offset these days by the weight of large public works gone wrong. The corruption charges levelled against Montreal politicians have contaminated the reputation of the venerable metropolis. Last October, the city froze all non-essential public-works projects following widespread allegations of impropriety. With more arrests being made and former mayor Gérald Tremblay now ousted from office, it’s as if a slick of toxic oil is creeping along the streets, darkening the large civic projects touched by city builders and the SNC-Lavalin engineering firm. The Montreal-based global entity had its tentacles in many of the big public-sector works in the city, including the Maison Symphonique, with its handsome wood-lined concert hall but bargain-basement public lobbies; the shiny new planetarium on the eastern edge of the city; and the still-incomplete McGill University Health Centre hospital, a massive behemoth, estimated to cost $2.35-billion, and as ugly as its multilevel parking garage. It’s impossible to travel through these facilities without contemplating what troubling scenarios might have gone on. For now, then, it’s the modest, meaningful works of architecture and joyous pop-up landscapes that are left standing with integrity fully intact. Like the fans of L’Express, Montrealers are right to turn to them as places that citizens can depend on. In the open, and often under the open sky, is where the healing can begin. When, during last weekend’s Portes Ouvertes, I walked the city’s streets touring dozens of young architecture firms and funky design studios in former textile warehouses, the joy of their public-space work was intoxicating. Wanted, a two-person landscape-architecture firm, finds its motivation in the power of design to effect social change – or simply to contribute more urban comfort and delight. Last summer on Victoria Street, next to the McCord Museum of Canadian History, Paula Meijerink and Thierry Beaudoin installed an urban forest of cushy carpets of purple turf, artificial palm pavilions and curvey benches. People lounged with friends; couples posed among the outlandish neon set piece for their wedding pictures. This month, alongside the McCord, Wanted installs a temporary urban forest – ash trees with their root balls in massive sacks. Further east at Quartier des Spectacles, the colourful swings, suspended from white steel box frames, have been custom-designed by a six-person studio called Daily tous les jours. Back by popular demand for a third summer, 21 Balançoires (check out the video at vimeo.com/40980676), notes studio principal Mouna Andraos, comes complete with a musical score: The more people swing, the more intricate the melody becomes. The studio has also produced massive sing-a-longs at fairgrounds outside of Minneapolis-Saint Paul and Dallas, offering large microphones and Auto-Tune to evoke decent collective sound. An installation of projections and sound that they hope will inspire audiences to move like the stars or the Earth is being prepared by Daily tous les jours for the $48-million planetarium. The planetarium’s design features rounded, wood-clad cinemas that push out on the upper levels as aluminum-clad cononical shapes between slanted green roofs. Designed by the city’s competition-winning Cardin Ramirez Julien & Aedifica, with, among other consultants, SNC-Lavalin, the three-level building will help anchor the Olympic grounds. “It’s definitely a shame, the huge problem the city has,” says Andraos, referring to the corruption scandals. “We’re hoping that some of the projects that we do can create exchanges for people in public spaces, and spark a sense of ownership.” In the Plateau district, a group of us – including journalists from international design media; Marie-Josée Lacroix, director of Montreal’s Bureau du design; and Élaine Ayotte, a member of the city’s newly formed executive committee responsible for culture and design – are led on a tour that begins by paying design homage to Laporte, who died in 2012. Heritage advisor Nancy Dunton leads our group to a stunning row of grey limestone townhouses fronting onto genteel Saint-Louis Square. Distinctive black steel railings and simple stone stairs on the Victorian exteriors are the work of Laporte, a man variously described as a bon vivant and a curmudgeon, who was often given commissions by local residents who knew him well. We file into Laporte’s still-functioning live-work studio: At the front, an efficient bar/kitchen – designed with the rigour of a boat’s cabin, complete with built-in cabinets and espresso-maker – sits alongside a work table with shelves lined with historic architecture books. An old photo of the staff at L’Express is propped on the white tile floor. Toward the back of the long, narrow space, Laporte had renovated a horse stable to become his studio, and, past delicate glass doors, a small terrace where vines grow up a brick wall. It was from here that he designed many of Montreal’s most enduring bars and restos, including the elegant Laloux (1980) with its seamless black-steel front entrance and cream-coloured walls of black-framed mirrors; and the high-end housewares boutique Arthur Quentin (1975) with walls and ceiling lined and strapped in plywood. Human-scaled and warm to the touch, these are the places that never stop giving back. They continue to amuse and endure in ways very different from those who choose to become their city‘s laughing stock.

ANDRÉ DUBUC La Presse Bien qu'elle ait fêté ses 50 ans l'an dernier, la Place Ville-Marie (PVM) demeure une adresse recherchée pour tout locataire d'envergure à Montréal, selon un vétéran de l'industrie du courtage immobilier. «La Place Ville-Marie, c'est un des édifices extraordinaires dans tout le Canada, dit Stephen Léopold, président et fondateur de Léopold Montréal immobilier. C'est une adresse internationale. C'est l'adresse internationale à Montréal, comme le Rockfeller Center l'est à New York.» On a appris, au début de la semaine, que le copropriétaire de la Place Ville-Marie AIMCO, caisse de retraite de l'Alberta, souhaitait se départir de la participation de 50% qu'elle possède dans la tour cruciforme. La Caisse de dépôt et placement du Québec, par l'entremise de sa filiale immobilière Ivanhoé Cambridge, détient l'autre tranche de 50%. Dans ce genre de partenariat immobilier, il est fréquent qu'un droit de premier refus soit accordé au partenaire en cas de vente. Ivanhoé Cambridge n'a pas voulu confirmer si c'était le cas. Le statut de la Place Ville-Marie dans le marché des adresses de bureaux de prestige est menacé avec la construction de tours arborant des certifications écoénergétiques comme LEED. «À New York, les quatre édifices qui se louent parmi les plus chers ont plus d'un demi-siècle en âge», fait remarquer M. Léopold, qui a travaillé longtemps dans la Grosse Pomme. Il nomme les GM Building, 9 West 57th, le Seagram Building et le Lever House. «Est-ce que ces édifices sont les plus modernes? Au contraire, répond-il. Parfois, il existe des attributs qui méritent d'être conservés, comme le système de lumières du Seagram Building, construit en 1958. C'est un édifice classé historique.» «Pourquoi ces édifices commandent-ils des loyers parmi les plus élevés de New York? Parce qu'ils parlent de New York. La Place Ville-Marie vieillit, tout comme le Rockfeller Center qui a été construit en 1932.» Quoi qu'il en soit, entre le patrimoine et la modernité, les comptables Deloitte ont choisi la seconde et déménageront dans la nouvelle tour de bureaux de Cadillac Fairview, à proximité de l'amphithéâtre du Canadien. De son côté, le transporteur ferroviaire Via a choisi de rester au 3, Place Ville-Marie, en renouvelant son bail en janvier 2013. Selon un rapport de marché de l'agence de courtage Colliers, PVM n'a pas encore trouvé de remplaçant pour Deloitte et doit en plus relouer les locaux que la Banque Royale prévoit libérer au quatrième trimestre. Par ailleurs, la Caisse continue ses achats dans les immeubles locatifs. Avec des partenaires, elle a acquis 8000 logements dans 27 immeubles, un portefeuille de 1,5 milliard de dollars. Elle a aussi vendu quatre hôtels à Paris, conformément à sa politique de se retirer du secteur hôtelier, à l'exception de quelques établissements à Montréal et à Québec. L'édifice Sun Life, 1155, rue Metcalfe Place Ville-Marie, 1-5, Place Ville-Marie Le 1000 de la Gauchetière, 1000, rue De La Gauchetière Ouest L'édifice de la Caisse de dépôt, le 1000, place Jean-Paul Riopelle La galerie marchande de la Place Montréal Trust, 1500, avenue McGill College Centre de commerce mondial Le complexe Les Ailes de la Mode L'hôtel Fairmont Le Reine Elizabeth

There's heavy renovation inside and outside of this beautiful old building which now houses Charcos and Smoke's Poutinerie. Condos? Rental? Who knows. At least it's getting a new life. They did a fair bit of demolition to put in windows (and what I assume will be balconies). Here's what it looked like last summer.

Just wondering if anyone has pictures of the recladding+expansion that took place in over the years? (here's an interesting article about the most recent modifications) That building went from: to this:

Nothing fancy, they're rebricking the back side of the building, like they did with the front last year.

CNN's Alex Zolbert shows how a 40-story building is being demolished the clean and environmentally friendly way in Japan.

Statoil Fuel & Retail sells its Schweigaardsgate 16 property in Oslo 13 February 2013 – Statoil Fuel & Retail, a wholly-owned subsidiary of Alimentation Couche-Tard Inc. (Couche-Tard), sells its property at Schweigaardsgate 16, Oslo, Norway, together with the company’s planned European headquarters, to Entra Eiendom AS. Responsibility for building the headquarters is transferred to Entra Eiendom as part of the agreement. Statoil Fuel & Retail signs a long-term lease of the premises. “We are pleased with the agreement,” says Sonja Horn, project owner, Statoil Fuel & Retail. “Entra Eiendom is a solid, professional real estate developer who will add value both to the project and the local community. We look forward to moving into a modern, environmentally-friendly and flexible building, tailored to our needs.” Statoil Fuel & Retail’s strategy is to create value through real estate asset management. It is not strategically important for the company to own its planned European headquarters and the sale releases capital to be reinvested in the company’s core business. Statoil Fuel & Retail was acquired by Canadian company Couche-Tard before the summer of 2012. The company’s European headquarters will continue to be in Oslo and the new office building at Schweigaardsgate 16 will be shared with the company’s Norwegian business unit. The project to build the planned eight-storey building has the ambition to achieve “excellent” status according to the BREEAM classification system. To maintain the best possible sunlight conditions for Teaterplassen, the neighbouring square, some of the originally-designed volume has been redistributed, making the building appear to step down towards the square. The quality of the square will be improved when the building is finished. It will become about 25 percent larger than it is today and a new passage through the building will connect Teaterplassen with the adjacent Stasjonsalmenningen. Statoil Fuel & Retail has received the required building and demolition permits from the Norwegian Planning and Building Services (Plan- og bygningsetaten). Demolition of the existing building on the property begins this week. The company plans to move into its new headquarters in the first half of 2015. Statoil Fuel & Retail sells its Schweigaardsgate 16 property in Oslo

Ne sachant pas trop dans quel fil de discussion je pouvais relayer cette information, j'ai créé ce fil.... On dirait du Ikéa version gratte-ciels... la vidéo est assez impressionante... les ouvriers sont sur site 24/24. Uniquement en modules d'aciers type H-beam pré montés en usine avec les circuits electriques, d'aération.... Je ne sais pas si je dormirais sur mes deux oreilles dans une tour pareille, surtout si la zone est sysmique! PARI – Le plus haut gratte-ciel du monde construit en 90 jours ? Impossible n'est pas chinois. Quand le building Sky City, haut de 838 mètres culminera dans la ville de Changsa, dans la province du Hunan (sud), il sera le plus haut bâtiment jamais construit par l'homme. Il dépassera alors de 10 mètres le Burj Khalifa situé à Dubaï, et dont la construction avait pris cinq ans. Si la fin de la construction est programmée pour le mois de mars 2013, un détail interpelle : celle-ci n'a pas encore commencé. Mais cela n'inquiète pas le constructeur, Broad Sustainable Building (BSB), comme le raconte The Independent. "L'édification du gratte-ciel va se dérouler comme prévu, à raison de cinq étages par jour", explique le vice-président de BSB. Conçu par des ingénieurs ayant participé à la construction du Burj Khalifa, Sky City sera composé à 95 % de préfabriqués, rendant possible l'assemblage des parties à un rythme effréné. De l'élaboration des éléments de l'ensemble à la pose de la dernière pierre, il est prévu sept mois. Le bâtisseur a précisé que 83 % de l'immeuble, composé de 220 étages, seront destinés à l'habitation. Le reste comportera des bureaux, des écoles et des restaurants. Quelque 104 ascenseurs permettront de circuler. En septembre dernier, le magazine Wired a rencontré M. Zhang Yue, fondateur de BSB. Le journal raconte que BSB s'est déjà illustré en construisant un immeuble de 30 étages en quinze jours. Le film en accéléré de cette construction a déjà été vu plus de 5 millions de fois sur YouTube (voir ci-dessous). Selon Zhang Yue, les constructions de BSB pourraient résoudre beaucoup de problèmes. Plus sûres, plus rapides à construire, moins chères et respectueuses de l'environnement, assure-t-il. Wired explique qu'en fait, BSB est la seule entreprise à appliquer les méthodes de l'architecture low-cost aux gratte-ciel. Wired ajoute à son article un portfolio détaillant la méthode de construction. Chaque élément est en fait prééquipé. Il ne doit plus ensuite qu'être posé et fixé. Ainsi, explique par exemple le magazine, le revêtement choisi pour le sol par le client est déjà installé en amont. "Il faut attirer les yeux. Il faut choquer le monde", aurait l'habitude de dire Zhang Yue. Réponse en mars prochain à Changsa. http://bigbrowser.blog.lemonde.fr/2012/11/22/pari-le-plus-haut-gratte-ciel-du-monde-construit-en-90-jours/

Read more: RMIT Swanston Academic Building’s Pixelated Facade Remixes the Melbourne Skyline Lyons RMIT Swanston Academic Bldg – Inhabitat - Sustainable Design Innovation, Eco Architecture, Green Building Nicely done RMIT. I think this might be the only building, that actually has that kind of design/thinking behind it.

MONTREAL - When James Essaris looks out over his flat concrete kingdom of 20 downtown parking lots that he started collecting in 1956, he sees a precious urban resource where others see ugliness. The much-maligned parking lot, long considered an urban eyesore and enemy of public transit, is becoming an increasingly rare feature on the downtown streetscape. Essaris, longtime owner of Stationnement Métropolitain, sees his barren concrete as more than just a chance for him to pocket some cash on the barrelhead: he believes in the good that parking lots do and considers the spaces to be the lungs of downtown commerce. “The City of Montreal should give free parking to come downtown. We’re chasing people out to the shopping centres,” he said. The new parking lot tax was adopted in 2010 and brings in $19 million a year to fund public transit. The tax is determined by a complicated formula that Essaris says in practice makes city taxes about twice as expensive on a surface lot as it would for another type of structure. The city held public hearings on the issue this spring and response to the surface parking eradication campaign — through the new parking tax and allowing larger-scale buildings on the empty lots — was greeted positively, according to City of Montreal Executive Committee member Alan DeSousa. “It brings more money into the city coffers and removes the scars in the downtown area,” he said. He said that some of lost parking spaces have been replaced by indoor parking in the various projects. But after seeing his taxes double in recent years, Essaris is now doing what many other parking-lot owners have done: He has started sacrificing his supply of parking spaces for housing, most recently building a 38-storey Icône condo tower at de la Montagne St. and René Lévesque Blvd. He has some misgivings, however, knowing that those spots will be sorely missed. “We cannot survive without parking in the city. I wish everybody could take the bus and métro, it’d make things easier, but you cannot force people onto the métro when they have a car,” he said. Urban retailers have long begged their merchants associations to create more places to park, perhaps no more than on the Main where about half of all members regularly plead for more parking, according to Bruno Ricciardi-Rigault, president of the SDBSL. “It would be really nice if we had a few more parking lots,” he said. However, the dearth of spaces is only going to intensify as the few remaining parking lots near St. Laurent Blvd. are slated to be redeveloped. Ricciardi-Rigault is bracing for more complaints from restauranteurs who have lost customers because their motorist clientele was fed up with circling the block. “Some people want to spend the whole afternoon, shop, go to Jeanne Mance Park, come back for a beer. Paying $20 to park on the street, that‘s asking a lot,” he said. Condo towers have been replacing lots in the downtown core at an impressive pace and the result is higher prices at indoor garages, reflected in a recent Colliers study that ranks Montreal as having the second-highest parking prices of any big Canadian city. Rates have risen an eye-opening 11 per cent since last year, as the average monthly price for an unreserved spot in a downtown underground commercial lot was $330.96 — $88 above the national average. The proliferation of private parking lots once inspired many to liken Montreal to a bombed-out city, but that is no longer the case. “We were spoiled by having tons of parking lots, now Montrealers will have to get used to much higher parking costs,” said Colliers representative Andrew Maravita. He credits a lower commercial vacancy rate for pushing prices higher. Up until the 1960s, Montreal tacitly allowed even historic buildings to be demolished and replaced by parking lots and until recently turned a blind eye to the countless rogue illegal lots that dotted the downtown core. For ages, Montreal surface parking lots were fly-by-night operations, changing ownership to avoid bylaw restrictions ordering them to be paved, landscaped. The city always said they couldn’t chase every owner down. But in recent years, authorities have increased taxes and cracked down on illegal lots, combining the stick of punishment with the carrot of juicy rezoning booty. In the past, many property owners failed to see the point of building on their parking lots, as the zoning frequently only allowed for small buildings. Those restrictions have been lifted on many of those properties, resulting in a bonanza for parking-lot owners whose land increased in value. The strategy was put into place with input from architect and former Equality Party leader Robert Libman, who previously served on the city’s Executive Committee. “A lot of projects going on now, on streets like Crescent and Bishop and that area, were previously zoned for two or three storeys. The urban plan capped those at a minimal height. The rezoning has made it more alluring for owners to build instead of leaving it vacant,” he says. Libman’s war against above-ground parking lots is personal. “They’re ugly and they undermine the downtown urban fabric,” Libman said. But he concedes that commerce relies on people being able to drive to a business. “You’ve got to find that careful balance between offering too much parking, making it too easy vs. your objective of discouraging people to take their car downtown and using public transit, that’s the fine line you have to find between the two,” he said. Developers are required to include parking in new projects, but the amount varies from place to place. In Laval, many projects are required to have two parking spaces per condo unit, while in the Plateau it’s close to zero spaces, although a typical recipe calls for one spot per two units. The one part of the city perhaps most challenged by a dearth of parking facilities is the booming Old Montreal area. The issue has long been considered such an urgent problem that one proposal from a decade ago even suggested that the massive silos in the Old Port be used to park cars. More recently, Old Montreal planners have installed an electronic billboard indicating where spaces could be found, but the pressure on parking endures, according to Georges Coulombe, whose real-estate company has been snapping up properties in the area for the last four decades. Coulombe concedes that area commerce has been hurt by a lack of space for cars. “People from places like Longueuil want to come shop on the weekend, but they can’t do it anymore, it’s too expensive to park, they end up going to malls closer to home.” He attempted to address the problem through a plan to build a high-tech robotic parking facility that could accommodate twice as many cars as a regular indoor lot. However, he did the math and found that it wouldn’t make sense because of city taxes. “I had a small 3,000-foot terrain that I would have turned into 300 spaces, but the city wanted to tax not just the building but the machinery inside. It made it impossible.” Much-hyped futuristic robotic parking systems are seen by some as a potential solution to parking woes and have actually been around for quite some time. The city has had at least three pigeon-hole parking systems as the earlier incarnations were known; one was opened on de la Montagne St. in the 1950s and another on Mansfield, where a worker was crushed by an elevator. A third more recent one was in operation at St. Jean and Notre Dame until a decade ago. Authorities frequently cite the fear of being unable to put out a car blaze in their opposition to such facilities. And although a few such high-tech robotic lots could elegantly alleviate parking pressures, one expert says that the standalone dedicated parking buildings will probably never get built. Chris Mulvihill, the New Jersey-based President of Boomerang Systems, a high-tech car-stacking parking lot system, notes that any landowner would most probably opt for a different sort of project. “Take any place where it’s very hard to get a parking spot,” Mulvihill says. “You’d think building a garage and charging for parking would be a good business model, but the economics dictate that if there’s a high demand for parking in that area, it’s because it’s a hot, happening place, so there are real-estate developers who want to build on that land. The demand makes it uber-expensive. A landowner could make a lot more money doing something other than parking on it.” © Copyright © The Montreal Gazette Read more: http://www.montrealgazette.com/Parking+squeeze+Downtown+businesses+feeling/7453989/story.html#ixzz2ASqBCwJE

http://nymag.com/homedesign/urbanliving/2012/hudson-yards/ Atop the 1,300-foot office tower, soon to rise at 33rd Street and Tenth Avenue, by Kohn Pedersen Fox Associates. Photo: Rendering by Visualhouse From 0 to 12 Million Square Feet In a few weeks, construction begins on New York’s largest development ever. Hudson Yards is handsome, ambitious, and potentially full of life. Should we care that it’s also a giant slab of private property? An exclusive preview. By Justin Davidson Published Oct 7, 2012 ShareThis On a Friday afternoon in September, a conclave of architects and real-estate executives gathers in a hotel conference room to look over plans for Manhattan’s largest remaining chunk of emptiness. Hudson Yards, the railroad depot that stretches from Tenth Avenue to the Hudson River, and from 30th to 33rd Street, barely registers on the mental map of most New Yorkers. Look down from a neighboring window, and you see only a pit full of trains hazed with their diesel fumes. The planners’ view, though, takes in sugarplum dreams of the city’s shiny next wing: an $800 million concrete roof over the yards, and above it the country’s largest and densest real-estate development: 12 million square feet of *offices, shops, movie theaters, gyms, hotel rooms, museum galleries, and open space, and 5,000 apartments, all packed into 26 acres. In the first, $6 billion phase—scheduled for completion by late 2017—the tallest tower will top the Empire State Building, and even the shortest will have a penthouse on the 75th floor. The people in the conference room can visualize that future in high-resolution detail. On the screen, digital couples stroll among trees pruned to cubical perfection. A chain of glowing towers garlands the skyline, and tiny figures stroll onto a deck hanging nearly a quarter-mile in the air. Architects discuss access points, sidewalk widths, ceiling heights, flower beds, and the qualities of crushed-stone pathways. You could almost forget that none of this exists yet—until one architect points to a lozenge-shaped skyscraper and casually, with a twist of his wrist, remarks that he’s thinking of swiveling it 90 degrees. The Related Companies, the main developer of the site, has called this meeting so that the designers of the various buildings can finally talk to each other, instead of just to the client. I’m getting the first look at the details at the same time some of the participants are. Suddenly, after years of desultory negotiations and leisurely design, the project has acquired urgency: Ground-breaking on the first tower will take place in the coming weeks. There’s a high-octane crew in the room: William Pedersen, co-founder of the high-rise titans Kohn Pedersen Fox Associates; David Childs, partner at the juggernaut Skidmore Owings and Merrill; Elizabeth Diller, front woman for the cerebral boutique Diller Scofidio + Renfro; *David Rockwell, a virtuoso of showbiz and restaurant design; Howard Elkus, from the high-end shopping-center specialists Elkus Manfredi; and landscape architect Thomas Woltz, the only member of the group new to New York real-estate politics. Their task is to compose a neighborhood from scratch. The success of Hudson Yards depends on the question: Can a private developer manufacture a complete and authentic high-rise neighborhood in a desolate part of New York? “This isn’t just a project; it’s an extension of the city,” says Stephen Ross, Related’s founder and chairman. New York has always grown in nibbles and crumbs, and only occasionally in such great whale-gulps of real estate. In the richest, most layered sections of the city, each generation’s new buildings spring up among clumps of older ones, so that freshness and tradition coexist. A project of this magnitude, concocted around a conference table, could easily turn out to be a catastrophe. The centrally planned district has its success stories—most famously, Rockefeller Center. Coordinated frenzies of building also produced Park Avenue, Battery Park City, and the current incarnation of Times Square. But this enterprise is even more ambitious than any of those, and more potentially transformative than the ongoing saga of the World Trade Center. New York has no precedent for such a dense and complex neighborhood, covering such a vast range of uses, built in one go. That makes this Ross’s baby. Hundreds of architects, engineers, consultants, planners, and construction workers will contribute to the finished product. Oxford Properties Group has partnered with Related, and the city dictated much of the basic arrangement. But in the end, how tightly the new superblocks are woven into the city fabric, how organic their feel, and how bright their allure will depend on the judgment and taste of a billionaire whose aesthetic ambitions match the site’s expanse, and who slips almost unconsciously from we to I. “We went out and selected great architects and then created a whole five-acre plaza,” Ross says. “People will have never seen such a world-class landscaping project. I can’t tell you what that plaza will look like, but what I visualize is a modern-day Trevi Fountain. It’s going to be classical and unique.” The best clue to what he has in mind isn’t in Rome, but at Columbus Circle. Ross lives and works in the Time Warner Center, which Related built, and if you imagine the complex blown out to five times its size, you begin to get a sense of what’s coming at Hudson Yards: crowds flowing from home to boutique, hotel to subway, office to spa, concert to restaurant—and all that activity threaded around and through a curving plaza equipped with fountains and a very tall monument, as yet unchosen. The Time Warner Center brought profitable liveliness to Columbus Circle, the once moribund, now vibrant hinge between midtown and the Upper West Side. But massive as it is, the Time Warner Center is dainty by comparison. Hudson Yards circa 2017 1. This office tower, by Kohn Pedersen Fox Associates, will become Coach headquarters. 2. Apartments by Diller Scofidio +Renfro, joined by David Rockwell: condos on top, rentals below. 3. The flagship office building, also by KPF: 1,300 feet high. 4. The curvy multiuse tower by David Childs contains a hotel, condominiums, and a big Equinox gym. 5. The shopping arcade (please don't call it the mall). 6.The Culture Shed: still unrevealed, but a great big space for traveling exhibits and other events. Photo: Rendering by Visualhouse Unnumbered buildings (the western half of the development) have yet to be designed. Photo: Map by Jason Lee The view from the High Line. Photo: Rendering by Visualhouse Photo: Rendering by Visualhouse Photo: Rendering by Visualhouse Photo: Rendering by Visualhouse Photo: Rendering by Visualhouse Start on the High Line, at West 30th Street near Tenth Avenue. At the moment, the landscaped section peters out here, but the old elevated railway continues, forking both east and west to form the southern border of Hudson Yards. Eventually, you’ll be able to continue your stroll beneath the canopy of an office tower housing the headquarters of the leather-goods company Coach. It’s a tricky spot, and the interaction of city street and raised park forces the architecture to perform some fancy steps. The building genuflects toward Tenth Avenue on muscular concrete legs. Coach’s unit reaches out toward the High Line, and the crown greets the skyline at a jaunty tilt. With all its connections and contortions, the tower, designed by Kohn Pedersen Fox, assembles its identity out of the complexities of city life. “My whole career has been about taking buildings that are inherently autonomous and getting them to become social gestures,” remarks Pedersen. Head up a couple of blocks from Coach’s future headquarters, and at West 33rd Street, another KPF tower tapers from vast hoped-for trading floors to a jagged peak 1,300 feet up. A state-of-the-art office building these days requires huge open layouts and thick bundles of elevator shafts, which tend to give it the natural grace of a hippopotamus thigh. But look up: Here, the design artfully disguises the two towers’ bulk by making them seem dramatically foreshortened, as if they were speeding toward the sky. One slopes toward the river, the other in the direction of midtown, parted like stalks of corn in a breeze. The cone of space between them draws sunlight to the ground and leaves a welcome break in the city’s increasingly crowded skyline. With any luck, you should be able to stand at the foot of these towers and feel sheltered but not squashed. It would have been far easier to wall the development off and let each tower stand in isolated splendor. Instead, planners have tried to soften the borders of their domain. That’s not just civic-mindedness; it’s good business. If Hudson Yards is going to be a truly urban place, it will have to lure people who neither work nor live there but who come because everyone else does. The development will have two major magnets, one for commerce, food, and entertainment, the other for that primal necessity of New York life: culture. Related is pinning a lot of financial optimism on a five-floor, two-block-long retail extravaganza that links the two KPF towers, rather like the Time Warner Center shops, only bigger, busier, sunnier, and more tightly knit to the city. “We don’t want this to feel like a mall,” insists its architect, Howard Elkus. Pedestrian passageways cut through the building, extending the streets indoors, and a succession of great glass walls turn window-shopping into a spectator sport. The liveliness engine is on the fourth floor, where a collection of informal but high-end food outlets curated by Danny Meyer looks out over the central plaza—“Eataly on steroids” is how one Related executive describes it. Above that are more expensive restaurants and a ten-screen multiplex. Stroll out the western side of the shopping center toward the central plaza, walk diagonally across to 30th Street, halfway between Tenth and Eleventh Avenues, and you come to the most intriguing and mysterious element of Hudson Yards: the Culture Shed. Having set aside a parcel of land for cultural use, the city put out a call for ideas. Elizabeth Diller and David Rockwell answered with an amalgam of architectural and institutional innovations: a flexible gallery complex to accommodate traveling exhibits and nomadic performing events. Together, they designed an enormous trusslike shell that could fit over the galleries or roll out like a shipyard gantry to enclose a vast performance space. The city refuses to discuss architectural details, how the still-theoretical organization will function, or who would pay to build and operate it. But it’s easy to imagine it being used for film premieres and high-definition broadcasts from the Metropolitan Opera or as a permanent home for Fashion Week, which now camps out in tents. The Culture Shed can give Hudson Yards the highbrow legitimacy and cutting-edge cool it needs to become an integral part of New York, and also create a cultural corridor running from the Whitney Museum at Gansevoort Street (now under construction), through Chelsea’s gallery district, and up to Lincoln Center. The project may be in the wishful-thinking stage—it could still get scaled back or dumbed down, or it could vanish altogether. But it does have one crucial booster: the Related Companies. “The Culture Shed is critically important,” says Jay Cross, the executive who is running the Hudson Yards project. “We’re going to be major supporters because we want and need to see it come to fruition.” Hudson Yards is getting much more from the city than just the Culture Shed. While planners keep working out ways to weld the complex to its environs, the West Side has already begun to embrace its coming addition. New rental towers have sprouted in the West Thirties and burly office buildings will soon rise along Ninth and Tenth Avenues. “There are communities around us—Hell’s Kitchen, Midtown South, West Chelsea, New Jersey to the west—that if we do a great job are just naturally going to flow in and populate that space,” says Cross. The site as a whole is a yawning pit, not so much a blank slate as an empty socket, surrounded by amenities and infrastructure just waiting to be plugged in. Hudson River Park runs along the western edge (set off by Twelfth Avenue), the High Line spills in from the south, and the future Hudson Park and Boulevard will swoop down from the north. The No. 7 subway-line extension is on the way to completion, the Javits Center is being overhauled, and maybe one day Moynihan Station will even get built. In all, $3 billion in taxpayer-funded improvements encircle the Related fiefdom—not including city tax abatements. “Where else have you ever seen this kind of public money for infrastructure to service a whole new development, in the heart of the city, with that much land and no obstacles?” Ross asks. His vocal enthusiasm for Mitt Romney and the Republican Party’s small-*government credo evidently hasn’t curbed his appreciation for public support. Although it’s the next mayor who will cut the first ribbon, in the long run Hudson Yards may well be the grandest and most dramatic piece of Michael Bloomberg’s legacy. It’s been on the city’s to-do list for almost a decade, ever since Bloomberg hoped to draw the 2012 Olympics to New York with promises of a West Side stadium. The fact that London won the games was a disappointment to him but a stroke of luck for the West Side, scuttling what would have been a disastrous stadium plan, while at the same time calling attention to the value of the real estate above the tracks. Eager for space to put up high-rises and now prompted by a big hole on Manhattan’s western flank, the city focused on a rezoning that is gradually pulling midtown’s center of gravity westward. There are two ways to conceive such a monster project. One is for a single architectural overlord to shape the whole shebang, as Raymond Hood did at Rockefeller Center. Steven Holl, whose offices overlook Hudson Yards and who has designed two similarly gargantuan complexes in China, submitted an entry that might have resulted in a work of thrilling coherence, with the same sensibility imbuing every detail, from door handles to office blocks. But the auteur development also risks yielding a place of oppressive uniformity, where each aesthetic miscalculation is multiplied many times over. Related chose the second option: recruiting an ensemble of brand-name designers. That approach emulates a sped-up version of New York’s gradual, lot-by-lot evolution; the danger is that it can produce a jumble. “Sometimes architectural vitality leads to messiness, or varying degrees of quality, and we’re trying to avoid that,” acknowledges Cross. “Every building is going to be best in class. That’s the common thread.” But bestness is not actually a unifying concept, and when the city held the competition to award the development rights in 2008, the Related entry failed to wow the city, the public, or the critics. “With a drop-dead list of consultants, contributors, collaborators, and anyone else who could be thrown into the mix … [the company] has covered all possible bases with something dreadful for everybody. This is not planning, it’s pandering,” wrote the critic Ada Louise Huxtable in The Wall Street Journal. None of that mattered: The project originally went to another developer, Tishman Speyer, and when that deal fell through, Related scooped it up. Architecture had nothing to do with it. Yet nearly five years later, with contracts signed and money starting to flow, that gold-plated crew of designers, working in separate studios, with different philosophies and, until recently, little consultation, has nevertheless produced a kind of haphazard harmony. What unites them is their taste for complexity and the deftness with which they maneuver conflicting programs into a single composition. Just past the Culture Shed, on the 30th Street side of the site at Eleventh Avenue, is the eastern half’s only purely residential tower, designed by Diller Scofidio + Renfro, with David Rockwell. It’s an architectural griffin, grafting together rectilinear rental units on the lower floors with flower-petal condo layouts up high—about 680 apartments in all. The fantastically idiosyncratic bulges and dimples join in complicated ways that make the glass façade look quilted. Now walk north, back across the plaza and past a still-to-be-designed café pavilion, and you come to another tower with a textured exterior—vertical folds with stone on one side and glass on the other, as if a palazzo had merged with a modernist shaft. Actually, the building is even more hybridized than that. David Childs, the architect of the Time Warner Center and One World Trade Center, had to shoehorn a large Equinox gym plus offices, an orthopedic hospital, a sports emporium, a hotel, and a condominium into a curved base and a slender tube. “Hudson Yards is a city within a city. This tower is a city within a city—within a city,” he says. The most delicate, crucial, and treacherous design problem at Hudson Yards isn’t a building at all but the public space, and especially the five acres in the middle, an expanse about as large as Bryant Park. Done right, it could be the most vibrant gathering spot on the West Side, a New York version of Venice’s Piazza San Marco. Done wrong, it could be a windswept tundra populated only by office workers scuttling between the subway and their desks. It’s worrisome that Ross and his team postponed thinking about that void until so much of the architecture had been designed, but heartening that they are intensely focused on it now. Related has given the job to the talented Thomas Woltz, whose quietly refined restorations of gardens and college campuses may not quite have prepared him for the fierce pressure of shaping New York’s most ample new public space. It’s not just a place for people to mingle but for the relationships between the various buildings to express themselves across the connecting plaza. “One of the paintings I admire most is The School of Athens,” says KPF’s William Pedersen, referring to Raphael’s klatch of bearded philosophers chatting beneath noble vaults. “You have great historical and intellectual figures gathered together in dynamic groups of interchange, gesturing to each other. That’s the architectural assignment for each of us.” David Childs phrases a similar thought in a way that graciously defers to Woltz even while sending the message: Don’t screw this up. “We have an obligation to create great architecture, and all the buildings have to be related to the space in the center,” he says. “The void is the most important part.” Woltz has gotten it wrong once. In his first presentation, he placed a plush lawn at the center of the complex, and Ross nearly kicked him out of the room. What Ross wants is not a place to toss a Frisbee, but a town square alive with purpose and electricity. That’s a spectacular challenge; there are few great models for a European-style piazza within a ring of skyscrapers. For now, Woltz’s solution is a paved ellipse, outlined by a perimeter of trees cultivated with geometric severity—given “the Edward Scissorhands topiary treatment,” as one designer puts it. The idea is to create a verdant transition from the human scale to that of glass-and-steel giants. “In an open space next to 1,000-foot towers, our tallest tree is going to be like an ant next to a tall man’s shoe,” Woltz says. But the most maddening paradox of Woltz’s assignment is that he must tailor an open space to the motley public—in ways that will please a potentate. Like some fairy-tale monarch, Ross has dispatched his counselors to find an artist capable of supplying his modern Trevi Fountain. What he wants is something monumental enough to focus the entire project, a piece that’s not just watery and impressive but so instantly iconic that people will meet by it, shoot photos of it, notice it from three blocks away, and recognize it from the cover of guidebooks. You get the feeling that Ross is hedging his bets: If Woltz can’t deliver a world-class plaza with his trees and pavers, maybe a Jeff Koons or an Anish Kapoor can force it into life with a big honking hunk of sculpture. A giant puppy can’t solve an urban design problem, though. It’s nice that a hardheaded mogul like Ross places so much faith in the civic power of art, but he may be asking it to do too much. The plaza is the node where the site’s conflicting forces reveal themselves: the tension between public and private, between city and campus, between democratic space and commercial real estate. Occupy Wall Street’s takeover of Zuccotti Park last year pointed up the oxymoron inherent in the concept of privately owned public space: You can do anything you like there, as long as the owners deem it okay. Childs hopes that his client’s insistence on premium-brand design won’t make Hudson Yards just the province of privilege. “We want this project to be laced through with public streets, so that everyone has ownership of it, whether you’re arriving in your $100,000 limo or pushing a shopping cart full of your belongings.” The plans include drop-off lanes, so the limos are taken care of. But if the shopping-cart pushers, buskers, protesters, skateboarders, and bongo players start feeling too welcome at Hudson Yards, Related’s security guards will have a ready-made *argument to get them to disperse: This is private property.

Until Montreal scrapped its streetcars in 1959, the Craig Terminus was one of the hubs of the city's sprawling tramway network. Located near the corner of St. Urbain and Craig (now Viger St. Antoine), 14 different tram lines merged into this imposing stone building, built in 1925. It was demolished in 1970 when the Ville Marie Expressway tore through a huge swath of downtown Montreal.

Prix MtlURB 2012 : Rénovation 2011 *** 1 – Le Port-Royal http://www.mtlurb.com/forums/showthread.php/18277 2 – Carrefour INGO 1 http://mtlurb.com/forums/showthread.php/14210 3 – Édifice Robillard http://www.mtlurb.com/forums/showthread.php/2027 4 – Musée Stewart http://www.mtlurb.com/forums/showthread.php/8179 5 – Coopérative d’habitation Radar http://www.mtlurb.com/forums/showthread.php/16627 6 – McGill Strathcona Music Building http://www.mtlurb.com/forums/showthread.php/20356 7 – Mail Champlain http://www.mtlurb.com/forums/showthread.php/14047 8 – Hôtel de Ville de Montréal http://mtlurb.com/forums/showthread.php/3279 9 – Zero 1 http://www.mtlurb.com/forums/showthread.php/16720

Read more: http://www.montrealgazette.com/Empress+Theatre+will+house+movie+theatre+commercial+offices/7199253/story.html#ixzz25hrcSoJI Nice to see that this landmark will be saved. I will for sure go check it out, when it is all renovated.

Travel and Leisure

Je suis passé la semaine dernière et j'ai parlé avec le vendeur et j'ai vu la présentation des unités sur un espèce d'écran 3D du building (trop cool) et effectivement, environ la moitié du building était en rouge, donc vendues (surtout du côté Nord, là ou la vue ne sera pas bloquée par le Roccabelle, Avenue des Canadiens etc..). Il m'a dit que la construction devrait débuter en mars et prendre environ 1 an et demi pour les fondations, et ensuite, un étage par semaine pour le reste. Il m'a également dit que la 2e tour était pour du commercial seulement. De plus, il m'a dit qu'un projet de condo de 30 étages allait bientôt être annoncé dans le parking au Nord de la 1ere tour (juste à l'ouest des tours Samcon) et que donc, des clients ayant acheté du côté Nord de la tour pour avoir une vue, allait finalement la perdre. Chose certaine, selon le vendeur, les choses vont très bien pour ce projet, mais c'est un vendeur ;-) Site actuel : https://maps.google.ca/maps?q=Piazza+G.+Agnelli,+10,+rome&hl=fr&ll=45.497407,-73.574034&spn=0.000004,0.002401&sll=41.899023,12.479805&sspn=0.050661,0.076818&t=h&gl=ca&hnear=Via+Virginia+Agnelli,+10,+Roma,+Lazio,+Italie&z=19&layer=c&cbll=45.497407,-73.574034&panoid=B3_Kr9HGDNb7csz6J0EmuQ&cbp=12,37.92,,0,3.42

L'édifice qui abrite le Siège Social de CGI à subit un recladding/coup de peinture récemment + changement des fenêtres, le building est maintenant d'une couleur plus pâle qu'auparavant (Gris/Beige plutot que Brun)

Confessions of a Condo Architect Halanah Heffez Right after completing her Masters degree in Architecture, Alex got a job with a local firm that designs those condominiums you always see cropping up in the Plateau, Rosemont and Villeray. We have all seen these new constructions and shuddered, or perhaps just sighed it could be worse. The blocks are neither offensive nor inspiring: they're mediocre at best. “We’re creating a generation of condos that are really ugly," Alex says,"It’s as bad as the 'eighties. Frankly, I think it’s going to be worse.” She runs through a list of all-too-familiar features: cramped juliettes where balconies should be; basement apartments with dug-out cours anglaises surrounded with bars that end up looking like jail cells; the use of different tones of brick to break up the façade; the random insertion of incongruous colours to add a semblance of architectural variety... As Alex describes it, designing condos is a constant give and take between respecting the building code while maximizing the client's profits that leaves little space for creativity. Here's an example: the City of Montreal requires 80% of building fronts to be masonry and monotone bricks in taupe matt, grey anthracite and Champlain orange-red are inexpensive (how cheap it feels to reduce the urban landscape to colours in a catalogue). The most an architect can hope to do is to add a splash of coloured plexiglass, and only if the borough's CCU lets it through. Within the envelope, the constraints are event tighter: Alex describes her workdays as "trying to shove too much into a space that’s inherently too small.” She recalls debating with a colleague about the ethics of sketching a double-bed into the plans when a queen simply wouldn't fit in the room. "'If you can’t fit a Queen-sized bed in your apartment, then it’s not an acceptable apartment," Alex insists. But most people don't have much experience reading architectural plans so they don’t necessarily realize what they’re getting. The developer, on the other hand, knows exactly what they want: "they come to you and say: this is the lot, and we want 8 condos in it." That leaves room for only a couple two-bedroom apartments, and the rest bachelors, all within the footprint of what was once a duplex or triplex apartment block. "It’s more profitable to sell more condos than to sell more bedrooms,” Alex points out. There's another catch: buildings under three stories fall within part 9 of the building code, which is more lenient in terms of fire safety regulations. But by sinking in a couple basement suites and adding a mezzanine (which must not exceed a certain percentage of the floorspace), it's possible to squeeze five levels into a building that is officially only three stories high. At least there's a sliver of good news: just this year the city stopped allowing windowless rooms. And while we may be in favour of urban density, tightly-packed residential units are not synonymous with density of inhabitants. "All these properties with great potential are being turned into one single type of real estate that is not family friendly: it’s all geared to young professionals without children. They’re not big enough for a growing family and there’s no flexibility in the space," says Alex. Another thing that she laments is that, with the requirement to transform every square inch of the lot into square-footage of floorspace, there's a tendency to lose the individual entrances, balconies and outdoor staircases that are typical of Montreal's urban landscape, and that create a dialogue between public and private space. Of course, being an architect, she also dwells on the aesthetics: “It’s all going to look very 2010," she sighs, "....and not in a good way.” http://spacingmontreal.ca/2011/12/19/the-architecture-of-mediocrity/

Est-ce que l'article ci-dessous et un avertissement pour la préservation hyperactive de l'architecture Montréalaise? Preservation Follies http://www.city-journal.org/2010/20_2_preservation-follies.html New York’s original Pennsylvania Railroad Station opened its doors in November 1910, with its towering Doric columns and a 150-foot-high waiting room based on the Baths of Caracalla in Rome. “As the crowd passed through the doors into the vast concourse,” the New York Times reported, “on every hand were heard exclamations of wonder, for none had any idea of the architectural beauty of the new structure.” But in the mid-1960s, the Pennsylvania Railroad tried to make up for falling revenues by razing the Beaux Arts structure—over the protests of architects and editorial boards—and replacing it with today’s drab station, the new Madison Square Garden, and rent-bearing office towers. The beloved old station became a martyr for the preservationist cause. In 1965, Mayor Robert Wagner signed the law establishing the Landmarks Preservation Commission. Initially, the move seemed like a harmless sop to the activist architects. But the commission’s power soon grew, partly because it was charged not only with protecting beautiful old structures but also with establishing large historic districts. Today, New York City contains just 1,200 individually landmarked buildings, far fewer than the 25,000 buildings within its 100 historic districts. And in these districts—1,300 acres’ worth in Manhattan alone—almost every action that affects a building’s exterior must pass muster with the commission, from installing air conditioners in windows to mounting intercom boxes next to front doors. A tree can grow in Brooklyn, but not in SoHo, unless the commission decides that its leaves are no affront to that neighborhood. It is wise and good to protect the most cherished parts of a city’s architectural history. But New York’s vast historic districts, which include thousands of utterly undistinguished structures, don’t accomplish that goal. Worse, they impede new construction, keeping real estate in New York City enormously expensive (despite a housing crash), especially in its most desirable, historically protected areas. It’s time to ask whether New York’s big historic districts make sense. According to a law passed in 1965, to bestow historic-district status on a neighborhood, the Landmarks Preservation Commission must hold public hearings, vote, and then submit its proposal to the city council, which must approve the designation. Once that happens, the commission has enormous powers over the new district: it may “specify the nature of any construction, reconstruction, alteration or demolition of any landscape feature which may be performed” within that district. The commission began landmarking speedily after the law was passed. From 1966 to 1981, it created 20 historic districts in southern Manhattan, at a rate of about 38 acres per year. (By “southern Manhattan,” I mean the island below 96th Street—the most expensive land in the city and some of the most expensive in the world.) The largest of these districts was Greenwich Village, which was landmarked in 1969. The plan to submit the Village to the commission’s oversight was embraced by most of its residents, despite their well-known history of fighting the government’s use of eminent domain to seize their property outright. Mayor Wagner said that he was “deeply concerned and sympathetic with the people of the West Village neighborhood in their desire to conserve and build constructively upon a neighborhood life which is an example of city community life at its healthiest.” Mayor-elect John Lindsay and mayor-to-be Ed Koch, a Village resident himself, also favored making the Village a historic district. Two property owners did file a lawsuit against the city, and large property-owning institutions like the New School and Saint Vincent’s Hospital also didn’t want their future building options curtailed. But in the end, the proposal passed, and a similar groundswell helped establish the SoHo Cast Iron District in 1973. In 1978, the U.S. Supreme Court allowed governments to landmark commercial areas without compensating the owners, giving the Landmarks Preservation Commission a green light to expand farther into areas that had many nonresidential properties. The largest of these was the Upper East Side. Once again, effective organizers, like New Yorker drama critic Brendan Gill, rallied a sophisticated community behind the districting plan. Opponents of the Upper East Side Historic District mounted a spirited defense, challenging the notion that this large swath of Manhattan had any kind of architectural unity, but they were overwhelmed. Paul Goldberger, writing in the Times, noted that the decision put the Koch administration “squarely on the side of preservation, rather than development, of some of the city’s most expensive real estate.” The Upper East Side Historic District was the high-water mark of preservationism in the age of Ed Koch. From May 1981 to May 1989, the commission added just five new districts in southern Manhattan, a rate of 2.82 acres per year. Perhaps the commissioner during much of this period, Gene Norman, didn’t believe in expansion as much as his predecessors did. Perhaps the commission was busy fighting other battles, like landmarking the Broadway theaters and preventing Saint Bartholomew’s on Park Avenue from erecting a tower. Or perhaps it was the spirit of the expansive eighties, when New York’s growth seemed like a pretty good thing. But then Norman resigned, and suddenly, perhaps coincidentally, historic districting soared. Between May 1989 and December 1993, 509 extra acres were added—a pace of over 100 acres per year. Tribeca, Ladies’ Mile, and the Upper West Side—a vast collection of extremely heterogeneous buildings, many of them with little architectural distinction—were just a few of the major districts brought under the commission’s control. The bulk of this districting occurred during the mayoralty of David Dinkins. Again, that may be the result of happenstance, or of Dinkins’s appointments to the commission, or of their sense that their decisions wouldn’t be overruled. But it’s worth noting that the districting explosion stopped as soon as Rudy Giuliani became mayor. Since 1993, the pace of historic districting in southern Manhattan has averaged about seven acres per year. Only one-tenth of the 1,200 acres that are now part of historic districts in southern Manhattan have been added since 1993. The Giuliani and Bloomberg administrations, including their commission chairs—Jennifer Raab, Sheridan Hawkins, and Robert Tierney—have shown far more restraint in increasing their sway over Manhattan than most of their predecessors did. Nevertheless, the damage has been done. Not counting parks, southern Manhattan contains about 7,700 acres of potentially buildable area. Today, nearly 16 percent of that land is in historic districts and therefore subject to the commission’s authority. This preservation is freezing large tracts of land, rendering them unable to accommodate the thousands of people who would like to live in Manhattan but can’t afford to. To get an idea of the way that historic districts can freeze a city, consider two recent episodes. In 1999, Citibank sold a one-story branch bank on the corner of 91st and Madison Avenue to a developer who planned a 17-story tower for the site. But the corner was within the prestigious Carnegie Hill Historic District, whose distinguished residents didn’t like the idea of another tower in their neighborhood. Woody Allen made a short video protesting the plan. Kevin Kline recited Richard II: “How sour sweet music is, / When time is broke and no proportion kept!” No New Yorker who grew up hearing Kline play Henry V in Central Park can fault the commission for being swayed by his eloquence. It told the developer to limit the building to nine stories—even though one of the few limits to the commission’s power, explicitly stated in the New York City Administrative Code, is that “nothing contained in this chapter shall be construed as authorizing the commission, in acting with respect to any historic district or improvement therein, . . . to regulate or limit the height and bulk of buildings.” A few years later, the developer Aby Rosen wanted to erect a 22-story glass tower atop the old Sotheby Parke-Bernet building at 980 Madison Avenue, in the heart of the massive Upper East Side Historic District. Even though the building itself wasn’t landmarked, Rosen and his architect, Lord Norman Foster, proposed keeping the original building’s facade intact and letting the tower rise above it, much as the MetLife building rises above Grand Central Terminal. Once again, well-connected neighbors didn’t like the idea and took their complaints to the Landmarks Preservation Commission. Tom Wolfe, the brilliant chronicler of the foibles of New York and the real-estate industry, penned a 1,500-word piece in the New York Times insinuating that if the commission approved the project, it would betray its mission. Wolfe won, and nothing was built. Replying to his critics (of whom I was one), Wolfe wrote in the Village Voice that “to take their theory to its logical conclusion would be to develop Central Park. . . . When you consider the thousands and thousands of people who could be housed in Central Park if they would only allow them to build it up, boy, the problem is on the way to being solved!” But building high-rises in dense neighborhoods means that you don’t have to build in green areas, whether they’re urban parks or undeveloped areas far from the city. In fact, a true preservationist should realize that building up in one area reduces the pressure to take down other buildings. Once the landmarks commission decides that a building can be knocked down—as was the case in the Battle of Carnegie Hill—it should logically demand that its replacement be as tall as possible. Does turning a neighborhood into a historic district actually discourage new construction, as these stories suggest? To find out, I couldn’t simply use data from the U.S. Census to see if regular districts boasted more housing growth than historic districts did, because historic districts don’t match up exactly with census tracts. So I have made comparisons among three kinds of census tracts: those that have no territory within a historic district; those that have some; and those with a majority of land in a historic district. During the 1980s, the mostly historic tracts added an average of 48 housing units apiece—noticeably fewer than the 280 units added in the partly historic tracts and the 258 units added in the nonhistoric tracts. In the 1990s, the mostly historic tracts lost an average of 94 housing units (thanks to unit consolidation or conversion to other uses), while the partly historic tracts lost an average of 46 units and the nonhistoric tracts added an average of 89 units. In short, census data show that there has indeed been less new housing built in historic districts, even though they are some of the most attractive areas in New York. A different approach to measuring new construction is to use consumer websites to look at high-rise buildings, which make the biggest contributions to the city’s housing stock. According to Emporis.com, just five residential buildings with more than 15 stories have been erected in historic districts in southern Manhattan since 1970; that’s an average of 0.004 buildings per acre, less than half the rate in nonhistoric southern Manhattan. Nybits.com, another website, lists 234 over-15-story residential buildings built in southern Manhattan since 1981. Of these, just 6 percent were built in historic districts, even though historic districts cover 16 percent of southern Manhattan. Neither website includes every new building erected in the city, but there’s no reason to suspect that they are disproportionately missing new buildings in historic districts. Again, we see that less new housing is built in historic districts—which shouldn’t be much of a surprise. The laws of supply and demand aren’t usually subject to legislative appeal: when the supply of something desirable is restricted, its price will typically rise. To find out whether prices have risen more quickly in historic districts than elsewhere, I have used data on more than 17,000 Manhattan condominium sales by the First American Corporation. The data cover the years between 1980 and 2002, avoiding the extreme price increases that occurred during the last eight years, and they include the addresses of the condos, making it possible to link them to historic districts. From 1980 through 1991, the average price of a midsize condominium (between 800 and 1,200 square feet) sold in a historic district was $494,043 in today’s dollars. From 1991 through 2002, that price was $582,671—an 18 percent increase. The average price of a midsize condo outside a historic district, meanwhile, barely rose in real dollars, from $581,865 in the first decade to just $583,352 in the second. In other words, even though condos within historic districts were cheaper than those outside historic districts in the 1980s, they had become equally expensive by the 1990s. Over the entire 1980–2002 period, prices each year rose $6,000 more in historic districts than outside them. The results tend to get stronger if you look at price per square foot, use statistical techniques to control for unit size, or expand the sample. For example, if you include units between 500 and 1,500 square feet, you’ll find that price per square foot increased by only about $5.50 outside historic districts from the first decade to the second (again, in real dollars)—but that within historic districts, the price per square foot rose from $530 to $596. The increasing cost of property in historic districts remains even if you control for those districts’ amenities, like proximity to Central Park, and if you allow that proximity to become more valuable over time. Restricting new construction in historic districts drives up the price of housing, then. This, in turn, increasingly makes those districts exclusive enclaves of the well-to-do, educated, and white. Census data about southern Manhattan show that in 2000, average household income in census tracts that were primarily in historic districts was $183,000 (in current dollars), which was 74 percent more than that of households in tracts outside historic districts. Almost three-quarters of the adults in the mostly historic tracts had college degrees, as opposed to 54 percent in tracts outside historic districts. And people in the majority-historic tracts were 20 percent more likely to be white. This alone isn’t surprising: architectural beauty is a luxury good, so one would expect that the prosperous would be willing to pay more to enjoy it. What’s disturbing is that historic-district status itself seems to make areas more exclusive over time, as limits on new development make it more difficult to build for people with lower incomes. In 1970, families in tracts that would eventually be located at least partly within historic districts had incomes 29 percent higher than families living outside such districts. By 2000, that gap had widened to 54 percent. Similarly, in 1970, people living in areas that would become historic districts were 4 percent more likely to be white than those outside these areas, as opposed to 15 percent 30 years later. Tracts in historic districts have also seen their share of residents with college degrees increase significantly faster than that of tracts outside historic districts. In The Death and Life of Great American Cities, Jane Jacobs argued that “cities need old buildings” because “if a city area has only new buildings, the enterprises that can exist there are automatically limited to those that can support the high costs of new construction.” Jacobs was surely correct that cities benefit from having some less expensive real estate—but restricting the construction of new buildings doesn’t achieve that end. Prices stay low not when the building stock is frozen but when it increases to meet demand. Preservation doesn’t make New York accessible to a wider range of people; it turns the city into a preserve of the prosperous. As if it weren’t enough that large historic districts are associated with a reduction in housing supply, higher prices, and increasingly elite residents, there’s also an aesthetic reason to be skeptical about them: they protect an abundance of uninteresting buildings that are less attractive and exciting than new structures that could replace them. Not every city, it’s worth adding, has restricted construction in its most valuable areas. Chicago has allowed an enormous number of high-rise buildings with splendid views of Lake Michigan. The result is a city with a great deal of affordable luxury housing. It’s hard to fault the Landmarks Preservation Commission for stopping development in historic districts. That’s its job: to “safeguard the city’s historic, aesthetic and cultural heritage,” as the city’s administrative code puts it. The real question is whether these vast districts should ever have been created and whether they should remain protected ground in the years ahead. No living city’s future should become a prisoner to its past. Research for this article was supported by the Brunie Fund for New York Journalism. Edward L. Glaeser is a professor of economics at Harvard University, a City Journal contributing editor, and a Manhattan Institute senior fellow. He is grateful to Kristina Tobio for heroic research assistance.

imtl.com : http://www.imtl.org/montreal/building/Edifice-555-Rene-Levesque-Ouest.php This building was just purchased for 10 million by a company registered to David Hawrysh who also happens to be vice president of Canderel. The building and lot are actually evaluated at over 23 million. To Canderel, the building might be worthless though.

* J'en ferai la traduction bientôt! I've decided to take a lot of urban pictures this summer but instead of posting random pics, I thought it would be more interesting to present these pictures through an historical and architectural perspective. To be more coherent (and since it's a lot of work!!), I've decided to do it one street at a time. I thought it would be a great way to learn more about Canadian cities... I hope those interested in history as well as architecture will find this thread interesting!!! So, here is a great example: the St-Pierre street in Quebec City. As you can see on the following map, the surface area of the Old Port was very small in 1650 and the North part of St-Pierre Street was under water whereas the south part of the street was accessible. This situation has had a very interesting impact on the aspect of the street from South to North. http://www.mcq.org/place-royale/lieux.php?id=41#2 This is the beginning of the northern, more recent part of the street. The wave pattern on the ground symbolizes the fact that the St-Lawrence river used to reach this part of town. Place de la FAO par davidivivid, sur Flickr The street isn't very long, about 600 meters, yet it's influence on the City and the Province was very important. http://www.mcq.org/place-royale/en/lieux.php?id=38 Rue St-Pierre par davidivivid, sur Flickr Canadian Bank of Commerce, built in 1900. Also housed the American consulate in 1927. The fountain-sculpture in the form of the bow of a ship commemorates the 50th anniversary of the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO), founded in Québec City in 1945. Bank of Commerce par davidivivid, sur Flickr Headquarters of the Dominion Fish & Fruit company built in 1912. It was the first real highrise in Quebec City. Dominion Building par davidivivid, sur Flickr This building, built in 1902, first housed the Quebec Stock Exchange. It later became a branch of the Hochelaga Bank (which later fusionned with the National Bank). Hochelaga Bank par davidivivid, sur Flickr The last two buildings have now merged to become the hotel Le Germain-Dominion. This is the flagship boutique hotel of the Germain hotel chain, which is becoming an household name in Canada. This particular hotel is often named "Best Hotel in Canada". Hôtel Le Germain-Dominion par davidivivid, sur Flickr Bank of British North America, now the office of a cruise ship company. Bank of British North America par davidivivid, sur Flickr Imperial Bank of Canada - opened in 1875. Imperial Bank of Canada par davidivivid, sur Flickr Imperial Bank of Canada par davidivivid, sur Flickr First branch of the Bank of Montreal besides its headquarters in Montreal - 1818 Bank of Montreal par davidivivid, sur Flickr This branch of the Bank of Montreal soon proved to be too small so a bigger building was built on the other side of the road. Bank of Montreal par davidivivid, sur Flickr Bank of Montreal par davidivivid, sur Flickr Headquarters of the Quebec Bank, founded in 1818 - second oldest chartered bank in Canada after the bank of Montreal. Moved to this location in 1862 and fusionned with the Royal Bank of Canada in 1917. Quebec Bank par davidivivid, sur Flickr The building is now a part of the Quebec Civilization Museum. I love how some of the stones of the first floor were carved. It gives great texture to the facade. Quebec Bank par davidivivid, sur Flickr Maison Estèbe http://www.mcq.org/place-royale/en/lieux.php?id=38#39 Maison Estèbe par davidivivid, sur Flickr The Estèbe House is now a part of Quebec's Civilization Museum (with its signature glass tower), designed by Moshe Safdie. Maison Estèbe - Musée de la Civilisation par davidivivid, sur Flickr Molson's Bank - now a cooking school! IMG_0679 par davidivivid, sur Flickr Telegraph Building built in 1856 by architects Staveley & Dunlevie. Quebec had been linked to Montreal by telegraph since 1847. The coat of arms above the entrance is that of the Great North Western Telegraph Company, which had its headquarters here for some time. Telegraph Building par davidivivid, sur Flickr Headquarters of the Quebec Assurance Company, the first insurance company in Canada. Building built in 1821 and now the Auberge St-Pierre, an hotel. http://memoireduquebec.com/wiki/index.php?title=Qu%C3%A9bec_(municipalit%C3%A9_de_ville)._%C3%89difices_publics Quebec Insurance Building par davidivivid, sur Flickr Compagnie d'Assurances de Québec par davidivivid, sur Flickr Ancient headquarters of the National Bank of Canada, founded in Quebec City in 1859. The bank moved to this building in 1862. The National Bank fusionned with the Hochelaga Bank in 1924 and its headquarter was moved to Montreal. It is now a popular 4 stars boutique hotel: Le 71. Hôtel Le 71 par davidivivid, sur Flickr It is one of my favourite building in Quebec City. I love how sleek it is, especially considering it was built 150 years ago. Hôtel Le 71 par davidivivid, sur Flickr Ancient headquarters of the Union Bank of Canada (founded in Quebec City), built in 1865. Merged with the Royal Bank of Canada in 1925. It is now the Institut de l'Energie et de l'Environnement de la Francophonie. Institut de l'Energie et de l'Environnement de la Francophonie par davidivivid, sur Flickr Merchants Bank of Canada - 1868. Fusionned with the Bank of Montreal in 1922. IMG_0707 par davidivivid, sur Flickr Banque du Peuple - 1880. Went bankrupt in 1895. Rue St-Pierre par davidivivid, sur Flickr South side of St-Pierre street. Buildings in this area are on average 100 years older than on the North side of the street. http://www.mcq.org/place-royale/lieux.php?id=38#3 General store of Joseph Drapeau, built in 1782. On this site used to stand the first general store in North America (built in 1659 by the Gagnon brothers). Magasin Général Joseph Drapeau - 1782 par davidivivid, sur Flickr Park of the UNESCO, commemorating Quebec City's status as a World Heritage site. Parc de l'UNESCO par davidivivid, sur Flickr Parc de l'UNESCO par davidivivid, sur Flickr IMG_0726 par davidivivid, sur Flickr Rue St-Pierre Sud par davidivivid, sur Flickr Finally, the end of the South side of the St-Pierre street. You can see the name of the street on the bottom right of the picture. Rue St-Pierre par davidivivid, sur Flickr Here is part of the street around 1899, just a few years after the electric tramways were installed. However, because of its importance, public transport was accessible through this street as soon as 1865. http://tolkien2008.wordpress.com/2010/04/17/photographies-de-quebec-1886-1910-par-frederick-c-wurtele/ Allright, that's it. Hope you liked the ride! Santé