Edmonton Arena District

I'm a huge believer in mixed use development in urban centers. My husband and I live in Central Edmonton and we love being able to take advantage of proximity to work, shops, and the beautiful river valley. As a result, I'm very excited about the proposed Edmonton Arena District, a mixed development project that includes a new arena for the Edmonton Oilers, plus residential housing, a community rink, a new casino, retail space and a winter garden. The project is being led by the Katz Group.

The video below features Daryl Katz, owner of the Edmonton Oilers and chairman of the Katz Group. It's a very frank discussion of why a project like the Arena District is of vital importance in attracting investment to the city:



Mr. Katz has announced his intention to contribute $100 million to the project, but I immediately noticed that a lot of the comments on YouTube suggest Mr. Katz ought to pay for the entire arena himself. This sentiment is echoed on Edmonton City Councillor Don Iveson's blog, where Iveson contends that the city shouldn't have to borrow the $400 million needed to finance the project. This sort of attitude always seems to be on display when a business person suggests a project that would improve life in the city.

I'm originally from Washington State, and I still remember the public outcry over billionaire philanthropist Paul Allen's proposal to construct the Qwest arena. There were dozens of letters written to local papers complaining that Allen should pay for the arena himself, rather than "leaving taxpayers with the bill." Of course, today most people will recognize that Mr. Allen's work in Seattle has helped to ensure its continued status as a world class city.

Of course, it's not just the cost of the project that has some Edmontonians concerned. The project has been criticized by Edmonton architect Barry Johns, who is concerned about the proposed location of the Arena District and LRT (light rail transit) access. I absolutely understand his reservations. Currently, the area that can be described as the "core" of downtown Edmonton is just a few blocks in diameter, and the proposed building site for the arena is a few blocks away. Also, the LRT does not currently run to the proposed site.

I think the hurdles Johns mentions can be easily overcome, however. While I strongly feel that approval of the development should be contingent on the addition of the LRT station, I am much less concerned about the notion of "extending" the downtown area, because, after all, that is the entire aim of the project!

The debate surrounding who should pay for the Arena District reminds me of the classic children's tale, "The Little Red Hen." I'm sure you will recall this story from your childhood. In it, the Little Red Hen finds a grain of wheat and has the idea of planting it and using the wheat to make bread. She asks the other farm animals to help her at each stage of production (planting, harvesting, milling, baking), but no-one offers. Of course, in the end, they all want to help eat the bread. City development projects always seem to work that way. People grumble about the cost, but in the end, they don't seem to have a problem using the services they didn't want to pay for.

Edmonton has the potential of being a world class city, but this will take genuine commitment on the part of the city government, private citizens and businesses. The Edmonton Arena District is a fabulous idea that will  beautify our city and help combat urban sprawl. Edmonton desperately needs some world class architecture to set the city apart and to attract people and investment. The completion of the Alberta Art Gallery this winter was a great start, but we need to build on the momentum that is being created if Edmonton is going to be able to compete with cities like Calgary for investment dollars.

For more information, please visit the Edmonton Arena District website.

Roger Scruton - Why Beauty Matters

Last year, philosopher Roger Scruton's did a televised essay for BBC Two entitled "Why Beauty Matters." In the program, Scruton lays waste to contemporary and modern art and architecture and the value system behind it. He argues that humans need beauty, that modern art is not beautiful and that a hasty return to classic aesthetic values is necessary if we are to save Western Civilization from perishing in a spiritual desert of ugliness.

In his documentary, Scruton uses extreme examples of shocking conceptual art, such as Sarah Lucas, Tracey Emin and Gilbert and George, to prove that modern art is ugly. He then goes on to blame their prominence in the art world on (among other things) democracy, popular culture and modernism (this seems faintly ridiculous, because, while there are a number of words one might choose to describe the work of Emin and her contemporaries, "popular" is not among them).

Scruton takes no prisoners in his critique of the aesthetic values of the modern world. And while he heaps plenty of contempt on contemporary art, he saves his most devastating critique for modern architecture, which he labels as "the greatest crime against beauty that the world has yet seen." He sneers at the phrase "form follows function," arguing that buildings created with an emphasis on utility soon become useless. He supports this statement with a walking tour of the graffiti covered modernist architecture. Scruton grew up near Reading, which once was "a charming Victorian town with terraced streets and Gothic churches." According to Scruton's account, the once-beautiful city was effectively defaced by the addition of some ugly modern buildings in the 1960s. He goes on to point to an abandoned building and remarks that it has been left empty because it is "damned ugly." I realize he is trying to prove a point, but isn't possible that there are some economic factors involved here as well?

I received an interesting email from my grandfather the other day showing photos of Hiroshima today (a vibrant, bustling city filled with optimistic modern architecture) and comparing them to pictures of Detroit, with its dilapidated turn-of-the-century architecture. Below is an image from a new book entitled The Ruins of Detroit, by Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre. You can see how this photo captures the disintegration of the once beautiful Lee Plaza Hotel. How would Scruton account for this?

Of course, contrary to Scruton’s assertions, traditional architecture cannot prevent a building from eventually falling prey to the harsh realities of an economic collapse.

Most conceptual art is not beautiful, and I completely understand Scruton's disappointment with it. The shock value has worn off, and most of it has become rather dull.  However, I feel he is mistaken in pointing to popular culture as the bogeyman in all of this. Democracy and popular culture are not the enemies of true art. Ludditism is. 

Hear me out. Critics and philosophers like Scruton feel threatened by the modern age, because their opinion no longer carries the weight it once did. Today, people look to numerous sources for critical input. In the past, you might have gone to traditional media, like the newspaper, to find out what people were saying about an art show. Nowadays you might be just as likely to discuss art via blogs, online forums and social networks like Facebook and Twitter.

Similarly, just as we now have multiple avenues from which to access critical discourse, we also have more access to art and images than at any time in human history. For centuries, the only art you probably would have ever seen (aside from the handcrafted objects in your home), would have been at your place of worship (and over the last few centuries, in newsprint and on public buildings).

As a result of the explosion of access to art, contemporary artists like Damien Hirst are likewise threatened by the digital age. Face it, not many people are willing to pay to see flies swarming around a cow’s head, as in Hirst’s work A Thousand Years. Consequently, conceptual artists rely heavily on critics, wealthy patrons and government funding in order to stay afloat. And they are very much dependent on the shock value of their work, because it attracts much needed press and keeps warm bodies heading to the galleries, if only out of morbid curiosity.

I believe the reason groups like the Young British Artists are compelled to create shocking art is that they are stuck in the past and committed to an unholy alliance with art critics. This marriage was created for the purpose of telling the public what they should and shouldn’t like, and as a means of artificially preserving the notion of elite tastes. But today, due to (among other things) the rise of technology, capitalism and social networks, the public today has little need for close-minded critics and self-marginalizing art. As a result, all that is left for critics is to praise the most counterintuitive art possible, in the hopes of preserving the scarcity of what can be considered “high art” (and thereby increasing its value). Honestly, how would you know that “A Light Going on and Off” was art, unless an Art Critic told you? You probably wouldn’t, so it’s a great way for outmoded tastemakers to hang onto their jobs.

Popular art, in the form of modern industrial design and commercial art, is one of the greatest threats to groups like the Young British Artists. And this is a good thing. As human beings, we are hard-wired to appreciate symmetry, bright, attractive colors and pleasant lines. And industrial designers and the corporations behind them are eager to offer us what we want. Computer aided design and modern production techniques have made beautiful, useful objects more accessible than ever before. All we need to do as consumers is to demand a more beautiful world.

For centuries, critics have felt they are intercessors for the people, giving them access to beauty. But technology has changed this dynamic forever. The people are no longer required to worship beauty through the intercessory magic of the artist and intellectual. We are living in a new era, where works by talented (and commercially successful) artists like Dale Chihuly are widely available and wildly popular. Chihuly’s public installations give the people exactly what they want: beautiful objects that invite contemplation and pure enjoyment.  

Finally, I would like to say that Scruton's aim is admirable, and I respect what he is attempting to do in the film. Nevertheless, I take exception to his implied assertion that modern=ugly. Admittedly, examples of ugly modern and contemporary art abound. But the existence of ugly art does not mean artists need to return to traditional art or architecture. Artists today need to embrace democracy and the digital age and chart a new way forward. 

Many thanks to Grace at The Beautiful Necessity introducing me to Scruton’s essay!

For more of the fabulous photos by Marchand and Meffre, please visit their website. 

Photo of installation of Dale Chihuly's work courtesy Wikimedia Commons.  

Anish Kapoor's Orbit - English Eiffel Tower?

Anish Kapoor's design for the London Orbit Tower, intended to be the dominating structure of the London 2012 Olympic Games, was unveiled earlier this week.

When completed, the structure will stand over 115 meters tall - 22 meters higher than the Statue of Liberty, 19 meters higher than Big Ben, and considerably shy of the Eiffel Tower - the 340 meter high building to which the Orbit is already drawing comparisons.

Kapoor has created numerous well-known sculptures, including Chicago's Cloud Gate. Explaining his inspiration for the design, Kapoor remarked in an interview with the BBC that he wanted to "look again at the whole idea of a tower" replacing its traditional Cartesian lines with something more orbital, with a "flowing, coiling form". Moreover, he hopes "to create a sensation of a certain kind of instability' for the viewer.”

Mr. Kapoor, who admittedly has all the humility of Howard Roark, confesses that he makes art to please himself, although he has a viewer in mind. While statements like this have led some art critics to dismiss him as an egoist, I appreciate his honesty. Genuine humility would make innovation impossible. It requires a great deal of confidence to see one's work come to fruition, and I don't really see the point in artists pretending that their work is for the people. In fact, which is more arrogant: admitting that your work pleases you, or proudly asserting that it is meant please others?

For this reason, the Orbit/Eiffel Tower comparison actually works on a certain level. Much like the Orbit, the Eiffel Tower was an unapologetically modern structure that utilized revolutionary techniques in building construction. It was the tallest building in the world for 41 years, until the Chrysler building was completed in 1930. The Orbit does not attempt to compete with the Eiffel Tower in height (which would be rather pointless, since there many tall buildings). Nor does it have the concern with utility that dominated Gustave Eiffel’s work. Instead, Mr. Kapoor seems to feel that the next frontier in construction lies in manipulating the conceptual framework of structures like the tower. His plan for the Orbit puts a tremendous strain on the engineers involved, demanding a building that looks like it might topple over, but doesn't! Kapoor hopes that the innovations he has made in the Orbit's design will make it "truly 21st century."

The Orbit seems based on a visual conception of the relationship between man’s achievements and his limitations. The "leaning tower" can easily be interpreted to represent the instability of modern man. This is emphasized by the sinuous coils of the structure, which call to mind the tenuously twisted spirals of the DNA’s double helix. Of course, the entire structure appears to be on the verge of either collapse or ascent.

My biggest reservation about the project is its full name: the ArcelorMittal Orbit; so named after ArcelorMittal, the company which will be donating the structural steel required to complete the project (perhaps explaining the choice of building material?). I'm a bit disappointed with the red portion of the tower, which appears to be painted steel. How often the tower will need to be repainted? The Eiffel Tower was constructed out of cast iron, and has to be repainted every seven years to prevent corrosion (it takes about 60 tonnes of paint each time). Contemporary construction projects should be made greener by utilizing new materials that are more resistant to corrosion.

So, will the ArcelorMittal Orbit be London's landmark for the 21st century? I'm reserving judgement. People thought the Eiffel Tower was an eyesore when it first opened, so I know better than to criticize the Orbit based on its looks! That said, does the design have staying power? My answer would be yes, because I think that, upon completion, it will be the most prominent example of an honest contemporary architecture that at once embraces the technologies of the 21st century, while calling attention to a dominating sense of uncertainty about the future and our place within it.

Image courtesy ARUP/Getty Images, under fair use guidelines.

Christopher Dresser: Industrial Design Pioneer

Considered by some to be the first industrial designer, Christopher Dresser (1834-1904) was a contemporary of William Morris and is best known for popularizing Japanese minimalism in the West. A designer who had also been trained as a botanist, Dresser was drawn to the simplicity and natural inspiration of Japanese design. Like Morris, Dresser was dissatisfied with the excessive ornamentation used in Victorian design. However, when it came to applying technology to design, Dresser and Morris parted ways.  
As you may recall, Morris was highly suspect of any sort of technology that removed production from the hands of the craftsman. While Morris' low-tech approach can be considered more romantic by some, it is interesting to note that Morris himself struggled with the necessarily high price of his designs. It was not until companies like Liberty began mass producing Morris' work that it became affordable to the general public.  Dresser, on the other, saw that technology would play a crucial role in design. His dedication to industrial production methods made his work more accessible and affordable.

A quick review of Dresser's design portfolio reveals numerous products that were far ahead of their time. Many appear strikingly modern, and it is difficult to believe that designs like this watering can (pictured above) were produced 134 years ago! 

In addition to his brilliant industrial design work, Dresser was an early champion of the notion of neutral backgrounds in interior design. After his tour of Japan, Dresser became convinced that walls and flooring should be done in neutral tones, and that bright splashes of colour should be reserved for accessories and accent pieces (Rompilla, 52).

A true innovator, Dresser's designs still seem fresh and new today. His design mantras, like "maximum effect with minimum means" continue to inspire contemporary industrial designers. Today, one of Dresser's philosophies--that design should address current needs with cutting-edge technologies--is more relevant than ever.  It's surprising, then, that (unlike Morris) Dresser is not particularly well known outside of design circles. Nevertheless, his work is worth revisiting, and I hope that museums will take note! It would be wonderful to see an exhibit of his designs. Please contact me if you know of one in the works!


Photo courtesy http://designmuseum.org/design/christopher-dresser/. Please visit their website for more information, and for many more photographs of Dresser's work.

See also: Ethel Rompilla, Color for Interior Design (New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc., 2005).

Decorating and the Death of Ivan Ilych

While flipping through Pottery Barn Home the other day, I was suddenly reminded of Leo Tolstoy's short story, The Death of Ivan Ilyich. It was one of those tales I read back in University that had a lasting impact on me for some reason, though perhaps not for the reasons my Professor might have hoped.

You may recall (spoiler alert!) that Ivan Ilyich dies while trying to install some new curtains in his home. You see, Ivan has a desirable, bourgeois home he has filled with the sort of objects that the upwardly mobile fantasize about. Ironically, Ivan is completely unaware that the design choices he thinks make his home unique actually render it quite common. Worse yet, these decorating decisions ultimately lead directly to his untimely death (weekend warriors: you have been warned!).

Now, when I read Ivan Ilyich back in University, it made the sort of impression on me that such stories generally have on the young (I saw Fight Club the same year and came to the same conclusion): middle-class tastes are bad, if not downright dangerous. Perhaps this is what Tolstoy was saying, perhaps not. At any rate, these days I'm a little more hesitant about passing out judgements. I said nasty things about Ikea for years after watching Fight Club; today I'm a big fan.  I might not be fully in love with Pottery Barn, but their styles are quite pleasant, and as long as your life doesn't revolve around having the latest and greatest end tables, I don't see how it's harmful.

It could be that I'm a little older and wiser, or it could be that I've simply become a little more cynical. At any rate, these days, I can't help but think that Mr. Ilyich could have died just as easily while protesting globalization, and it wouldn't have necessarily made him a better person (thought it would have rendered him a more romantic character, to be sure).

My personal theory is that Tolstoy was tired of watching decorating shows on HGTV (or whatever the 19th century Russian equivalent) with his wife, and decided to exact his revenge by penning a scathing novella.

Now, back to Pottery Barn Home: it's a beautiful book. Yes, the interiors are the sort of thing you see everywhere. They are ubiquitous, tasteful and relaxing. I was definitely inspired by the lovely photographs. As I sat picturing the changes I would like to make to my humble abode, I was reminded of our friend Ivan:

Looking at the yet unfinished drawing room he could see the fireplace, the screen, the what-not, the little chairs dotted here and there, the dishes and plates on the walls, and the bronzes, as they would be when everything was in place.--The Death of Ivan Ilyich

 We all have a little Ivan in us, don't we?

Julia Child's Beurre Blanc

For the past few months, I've been a little more obsessed than usual about cooking. It started when my husband and I went to go see Julie and Julia a little while before the baby was born. We both loved the movie, and it inspired me to be a little more adventurous in the kitchen.

I've always loved to cook, but I've historically been rather timid when it comes to sauces. I tended to make a very good, but very safe, bechamel (and its variations) over and over again. This has changed! I have discovered that sauces are really quite simple, and so I've been charting new territory (for me) in the sauce department.

As part of my culinary inspiration, I've been reading Julia Child's My Life in France (even better than the movie!). If that book doesn't make you want to cook (or at least eat) really well, nothing will!

Sauce Beurre Blanc
1/4 cup white-wine vinegar
1/4 cup dry white wine or dry white vermouth ( I used a Sauvignon Blanc)
1 tablespoon finely minced shallots or scallions
Salt and freshly ground white pepper
8 to 12 ounces [1 to 1 1/2 cups, or 2 to 3 sticks]
chilled best-quality unsalted butter, cut into 16 or 24 pieces

1. Begin by boiling the liquids.
2. Add the shallots and salt and pepper to taste.
3. Continue to simmer on a low heat until most of the liquid has evaporated.
4. Remove from heat.
5. Add butter to this mixture a piece or two at a time, taking time after each addition to whisk the mixture vigorously until the butter has been completely absorbed into the sauce before adding more butter.

The secret to getting sauces right is having all of the ingredients prepared ahead of time! Now when I cook I try to always have everything chopped and portioned ahead of time in little containers - it makes a world of difference!

Now, beurre blanc is amazing with fish, and I had two sea bass fillets that had been sitting in the freezer for weeks. You see, I can count on one hand the number of times that I ate fish at home as a child, and I've always been afraid of it. It always seemed like it would be immensely complicated.

Sea Bass Fillets with Mushrooms- Inspired by Julia, but with some revisions.
2 teaspoons butter
2 Tablespoons minced shallot
2 fillets of fish
salt and white pepper
juice of 1/2 fresh lemon (Julia wants you to use 2/3 cup white wine and 1/3 cup fish stock)
1 c thinly sliced crimini mushrooms (I just think they look better on the fish than white mushrooms).

1. Set pan over medium heat and add butter.
2. Sprinkle shallots and cook slowly to soften without colouring.
3. Remove from heat
4. Season fillets on both sides with salt and pepper.
5. Lay in pan skin side down (where skin used to be - the skin should be removed)
6. Pour in lemon juice (should be enough to cover fish 1/2 way).
7. Lay sliced mushrooms over the fillets.
8. Put parchment paper over the pan.
9. Put on lid and bring liquid to a simmer and hold for 5 minutes. Make sure fish is cooked throughout. Serve topped with the beurre blanc.

Now, Julia's recipe (which is for sole) calls for fish stock and 2/3 cup wine, rather than the lemon juice. I'm sure she's rolling in her grave, but I didn't happen to have any fish stock lying around, and I wasn't about to use another 2/3 cup wine in the fish. Moreover, as I mentioned earlier, this was the first time I've cooked fish, and I've never had ANY fish that I really liked, so I thought the lemon juice might make it less fishy.

Well, I will stand by my own recipe for two reasons: firstly, I LOVED it. Amazing! If I do say so myself. I have no more fear of cooking fish! Secondly, even though I used the juice of 1/2 lemon, the fish did not have an overpowering lemon flavour. At all.

Now, I'm a lousy food blogger, because I have no pictures. It looked so good, and we ate it immediately. Well, almost immediately - I had my dear husband stand in the kitchen and stir the sauce for about 20 minutes while I fed the baby and put her to sleep! So, you'll have to use your imaginations, or better yet, make your own beurre blanc!

Oh, one more thing: this is a really rich sauce. I'm not sure how Julia managed to tuck into 1/2 cup of butter at a sitting, but we had a couple of tablespoons of sauce each and I ended up feeling just a wee bit ill. A cup of tea took care of that, but I'm going to have to work on my butter tolerance, as it appears I'm a bit of a lightweight in the beurre department.

Bon Appetit!

Ring House Nagano, Japan

I ran across the Ring House, designed by Takei-Nabeshima-Architects (TNA) the other day, and was enchanted. This blog tends to focus on the history of the Arts and Crafts movement, but I'm always on the lookout for modern design that reflects the principles of beauty, simplicity and utility that the Arts and Crafts movement celebrated.

Just looking at this lovely home is relaxing! Created from rings of glass and wood, the Ring House was completed in 2006 and has a 360-degree view of the forest. Because of the rings of windows, you are able to look directly through the house from every side to the woods beyond.

In his writings, William Morris continuously emphasised the importance of creating new architecture that celebrated the best of the simple medieval aesthetic, while discouraging historical reproductions (faux gothic and the like). In the past, I've struggled with this particular aspect of Morris' writing. After all, we've all seen pretty terrible examples of contemporary architecture. I've often asked myself, why not just reproduce things from the past that were beautiful and useful? I'm slowly coming around to a different point of view, however. In my view, the Ring House is an example of how we can live in and celebrate contemporary architecture while respecting the best of design traditions.

For more information, please visit the TNA website. Photo by Daici Ano courtesy www.worldarchitecturenews.com