Brandon Donnelly — Daily insights for city builders. Published since 2013 by Toronto-based real estate developer Brandon Donnelly. — Page 844

Generally speaking, architects are the only people I know who like Brutalist architecture . In fact, architect, professor and author Witold Rybczynski once proposed the following litmus test to determine whether a building is indeed an example of Brutalism: "If people don’t hate it, it can’t be Brutalist."

But as I have argued before, sometimes architectural styles take a bit of time to settle in and become fully appreciated. Consider how improbable it would seem to demolish a beautiful old Victorian home today. And yet Toronto, and countless other cities, did this on many occasions. Regent Park, Toronto was once Cabbagetown South .

Brutalism also took on different sensibilities around the world.

I love this recent piece in T (NY Times Style Magazine) by Michael Snyder called, " The Unexpectedly Tropical History of Brutalism ." In it he uses the term "Equatorial Brutalism" (a new one for me) and discusses the "surprising apotheosis" of Brutalism in equatorial countries (and in particular Brazil). It is a good follow-up to my recent post on Oscar Niemeyer's work .

So here's an excerpt from Michael's article. If you don't already like Brutalism, maybe it'll get you a little bit closer.

What these buildings shared, beyond an aesthetic — though they shared that, too, with their radical porousness, their blunt geometric forms and their extensive use of raw concrete — was a commitment to architecture as an instigator of progress. But in the tropics, Brutalism reached an unexpected apotheosis: Infiltrated by lush plants and softened by humidity, buildings that looked cold and imposing against London’s constant drizzle or Boston’s icy slush were transformed into fecund, vital spaces. Concrete surfaces bloomed green with moss. The panels of glass necessary for sealing rooms against the northern chill either disappeared or receded from view, encouraging cross-ventilation while also protecting interior spaces from direct sun. The openness and transparency that the Smithsons had pronounced became a practical reality in these humid environments, both theoretically and literally: Built from inexpensive, readily available materials, equatorial Brutalism was as accessible and functional as it was symbolically potent, resulting in buildings that would define new societies growing around them like vines. Here, Brutalism wasn’t only an architecture that shaped the future or confronted the past — it was an architecture of freedom.

Photo by  Samuel Zeller  on  Unsplash

This recent Economist article makes the argument that, despite the recent (and sometimes annoying) proliferation of electric scooters across Europe, we probably shouldn't be that grouchy about them. And that's, "because the rise of the electric scooter is part of a broader and welcome phenomenon: the gradual retreat of the car from the European city." By way of one example, by next year, Paris will have grown its bike lane network by 50% in five years.

The article ends with the point that, while this may seem like a "revolution," it's actually a "reversion." European cities such as Paris and Antwerp (examples from the article) were both built before the advent of the car and were never really designed for it, although Haussmann's wide avenues certainly helped. All of this gets back to a point I tried to make over the weekend with this post about driving and parking , and the relevance of urban form.

Reversion is a lot easier than a revolution. And for most North American cities, a revolution is what's needed if we are in fact serious about a post-car future.

Photo by  Z Klein  on  Unsplash

Today's Seth Godin post on innovation, guts, and generosity is Seth Godin at his best. One of the reasons why I like it is that I keep thinking that "innovative" has become too much of a buzzword. It's similar to walking around and telling everybody you're a cool person. If you have to explain it to everyone, then you're probably not cool. At the same time, I also find his generosity angle to be a clever one. Here is Seth's post in its entirety (short and sweet, as usual):

Innovation is guts plus generosity

Guts, because it might not work.

And generosity, because guts without seeking to make things better is merely hustle.

The innovator shows up with something she knows might not work (pause for a second, and contrast that with everyone else, who has been trained to show up with a proven, verified, approved, deniable answer that will get them an A on the test).

If failure is not an option, then, most of the time, neither is success.

It’s pretty common for someone to claim that they’re innovative when actually, all they are is popular, profitable or successful. Nothing wrong with that. But it’s not innovative.

Allow generosity to take the lead and you’ll probably discover that it’s easier to find the guts.