Mini dealership designed for maximum effect Building at long-neglected east-end corner fulfills its urban duties with aplomb From The Star By Christopher Hume Car dealerships tend not to be the stuff urban dreams are made of, but that’s changing. Given our vehicular dependency, this is welcome news. To see what has become of the automobile showroom, one need look no farther than the new Mini Cooper building. It opened last week at the southwest corner of Eastern and Broadview Aves., not a part of town about which Torontonians have strong feelings. But big changes are unfolding down here. Most obviously, people now live in the neighbourhood. The architects, RAW Design of Toronto, conceived of the complex as a series of cascading glass pavilions, each outlined with a brightly coloured steel frame. The result is one of the most striking structures to appear in the city in some time. It manages to be elegant and fun at the same time. Unlike most local architects, who have lived in fear of colour for decades and would rather settle for grey or beige, for RAW, the brighter the better. Downtown Mini fills the eye with dashes of green, yellow and orange set against backgrounds of black and white. Otherwise, the facades are largely glass, and not ordinary glass but the low-iron variety that verges on invisibility. Occupying a landscape of industrial relics and commuter-oriented highways, this is a piece of architecture that brings new life to an area in transition. Sitting in the shadow of the nearby BMW building (the German auto manufacturer own Mini), it helps create a critical mass of visual interest and activity in a long-neglected corner. But as RAW’s Roland Rom Colthoff points out, “It’s gotta sell cars; that’s its job.†That may be true, but it also has to fill space in the city, which means it must deal with nagging issues such as presenting a public face, being a good neighbour, enhancing connectivity and so on. For the most part, it fulfills its urban duties with aplomb. The site also offers rarely seen views of the downtown core across a nicely overgrown orphan site; here it is, the city viewed through an unintended foreground of greenery. The contrast between this and the clean minimalist lines of the dealership are as compelling as they are unexpected. This, too, counts as diversity, though perhaps not of the sort the word typically implies in Toronto. “People saw the impact the BMW building had,†says Colthoff, who worked on the project while at Quadrangle Architects. “It set the standards for car dealerships in the city. Other companies copied it. Obviously brand is super-important to carmakers. Where BMW was a bit restrained, Mini’s a lot more fun. It’s very colourful and active.†As Colthoff explains, Mini head office provided a “kit of parts.†That included colours, materials and layout. Showrooms are organized around the idea that the car is akin to a family member. This is where the loved ones come when they arrive and where they go when they’re sick. Service areas are easily viewed through large glass walls so anxious owners never have to loose sight of their babies. Inside, the building breaks down into a procession of transparent boxes, most filled with shiny new Minis awaiting purchase. Unlike the BMW centre, which rises seven storeys and doubles as a billboard, this one is low and decidedly horizontal. But what it lacks in height, it gains in presence, that indefinable quality that makes all the difference, in this case, between actual architecture and mere marketing. Compared to other dealerships, now concentrated in the lower east side of Toronto, Mini’s stands out dramatically. Volvo on Dundas St., Toyota on Queen St. or Porsche on Front St. are all resolutely and resoundingly dull. Indeed, until BMW appeared in 2001, car dealerships had lapsed into a suburban dreariness that followed them well into the heart of the city. Given the importance of image to the car industry, which otherwise has little to offer, such indifference is baffling; it sends entirely the wrong message about both car and company. Above all, it tells us that these particular corporations have lost touch with the world they inhabit — either that or they don’t care. Given the times, neither conclusion is helpful. Although no one would argue that a car dealership represents the best of all possible land uses, there are worse. Despite this, Colthoff reports that city planners took an active interest in the development. “We had a lot of discussion with the city,†he says, “mostly about the best way to place the building and its edge features.†In other words, the intention was to figure out how best to integrate the complex into the larger community. Don’t forget that the building itself may be remarkable but it’s surrounded by the inevitable sea of parking. And surface lots are an affront to urbanity, even in an out-of-the-way location such as this. There was a time, of course, when nobody would have cared, but those days are over. As we reclaim the city, sites like this have suddenly become enormously valuable. Just across Eastern Ave. for instance, an old factory is now a successful loft conversion. A bit north on Broadview, a row of old houses has been boarded up in anticipation of something bigger if not better. By the time the gentrification of the district is complete, and Mini has moved on to some other location, the building could be turned into a restaurant or bar. It’s that sort of space — open, light filled, rich in views and close at hand. Already, RAW has plans to hold its annual fall office party at Mini and it’s not hard to understand why; this is a project worth celebrating.
"anxious owners never have to loose sight of their babies" It's LOSE not loose, people! This was in a newspaper? For shame! Cool building, though.