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Would we hate Toronto's high-rise condos any less if we could remember them by name?
That is, if they actually kept a permanent, highly visible name for decades to come?
In a recent dream I experienced just before waking up, there was a summery scene right before sunset in what could have easily been eastern North York or western Scarborough. In a relatively low-density area which clearly looked as if all its development was less than three years old, I saw a couple of new high-rise condo buildings. So I went to have a look.
The one condo which stood out was thematically far-fetched, but were it were to exist anywhere, I couldn't think of anywhere else but the GTA where this could feasibly happen. The building was clad in a 1970s modernist style of vertical stone and glass much like First Canadian Place's sister tower in Chicago: the AON Center. This condo was different in that the stone used was like the polished grey granite one might typically ascribe to tombstones. The glass in between each thin stone column was opaque black — almost like Vitrolite.
Around the side, the condo's parking garage entry was a lot like One Bedford at Bloor's cavernous new portal. High-end cars from new residents were parked within view from the street. Each was either black or a deep ruddy burgundy verging on reddish-black. All had dark-tinted windows.
( Then I looked back to the condo's street-facing entrance and saw something totally novel, even if absurd: )
That is, if they actually kept a permanent, highly visible name for decades to come?
In a recent dream I experienced just before waking up, there was a summery scene right before sunset in what could have easily been eastern North York or western Scarborough. In a relatively low-density area which clearly looked as if all its development was less than three years old, I saw a couple of new high-rise condo buildings. So I went to have a look.
The one condo which stood out was thematically far-fetched, but were it were to exist anywhere, I couldn't think of anywhere else but the GTA where this could feasibly happen. The building was clad in a 1970s modernist style of vertical stone and glass much like First Canadian Place's sister tower in Chicago: the AON Center. This condo was different in that the stone used was like the polished grey granite one might typically ascribe to tombstones. The glass in between each thin stone column was opaque black — almost like Vitrolite.
Around the side, the condo's parking garage entry was a lot like One Bedford at Bloor's cavernous new portal. High-end cars from new residents were parked within view from the street. Each was either black or a deep ruddy burgundy verging on reddish-black. All had dark-tinted windows.
( Then I looked back to the condo's street-facing entrance and saw something totally novel, even if absurd: )
