And to think Héritage Montréal has it as a “site menacé” … of significant patrimonial importance.
Yikes. I can’t wait for that whole park to be restored to it’s original grandeur.
Great park for the kids this is!
You can play ‘spot the needle’, ‘don’t touch that’, and ‘umm… i don’t know why’ .Good place for a picnic!
It’s trendy right now to think modernism is so amazing and totally wow, maybe because it reminds us of welfare-state Keynesianism, but modernists really fucked up a lot of cities with and this is just more proof.
It’s hard to imagine how the designers saw a space like this being used. I remeember walking through it shortly after it was built and being impressed by ingenuity of the thing. But it wasn’t built with humans in mind, I’d say.
I think it *could* be a cosy space for picnics – I’m guessing the “built-up” edges were designed to protect the users from the noise and pollution of the several lanes of traffic surrounding the park (and to reduce the possibility of children running out into the street).
The problem here is probably just as much social policy as it is to do with urbanism. Look at Berri Park for example – in summer when it is swarming with people attending events, and it is well policed, it is actually a relatively pleasant place to be.
The rest of the year, when it is forgotten, the City uses it as a convenient place to assemble the unwanted. So it is with Viger Park.
The problem is with the concrete “shack”; it is a natural repellent at night as it feels unsafe to people walking through. Once it is identified as a drug/homeless area, it then becomes deserted during the day. If it were not enclosed and covered, there would be a disincentive for homeless to take shelter there and the ‘eye on the street’ would naturally ‘police’ the area.
Sometimes, one just to admit that something is a bad idea, and reform it. No matter what public policy sugar-coating is put in place, I don’t think it will work. In this case, raze the concrete monstrosity and rethink the park. No enclosed areas and give a reason for people to go there every day (an art piece is just not enough, sorry)
It definitely needs to be greener.
And — nevermind what’s happening under these concrete roofs, a lot more is going on the top of these… Working nearby with a view on the “park” from the 5th floor was an ugly sight!
While I agree there are issues – the comment by Shawn who said the designers did not have humans in mind… how can we say that when humans frequent this spot on a regular basis.. actually living in this spot. After speaking with a few of the dwellers of this space I learnt that the design of the arches are quite perfect for the homeless individual who has (perhaps) escaped a pressuring home, or a cloistering idea of traditional architecture. In many conversations I heard that the idea of a space with a roof and no walls is a perfect place to dwell for one who feel closterphobic and contained within walls of shelters and homes. What a beautiful picture that paints… It has also fostered a place for homeless people with dogs to conviene and it has in fact been cleaned up (by the homeless with help from shelters and organizations) by implementing needle disposals and trash cans.
I think that the “public” is too quick to judge spaces like this as failures when one should ask – who has it failed?
Viger Square 20120603
Early Sunday morning I look across Rue Viger over a concrete border into a park of freshly greened ash trees and untended grass that’s already high in mid May. Mounting the border I can see the park surface is all paving stone except for raised beds of earth of different rectangular shapes from which the grass and happy dandelion plants grow under young ash trees thirty to forty feet high creating untended inner city wilderness. Further inside are one-story concrete structures, some connected, some isolated, stretching to the other side ending at a concrete wall bordering Rue Saint-Antoine. Ivy climbs some of the structures and covers some of the walls. To the right are more raised beds out to Rue Saint-Denis. To the left, under the trees it looks like there’s a dry sunken pond, perfectly square, backed by a rectangular building holding up a flat painted surface. Behind the building is Rue Berri. I follow the greenery east to Saint-Denis and turn left at the sidewalk. Halfway along the park’s eastern edge on Saint-Denis you can look left through various rectangular columns supporting concrete roofs, some solid, some showing concrete ribs with daylight shining through.
I enter the park again on the paving stones and find a low wall which offers a climbable step to the top of the structures. The structures are connected by four-foot wide spans with two feet of grass running down the centres. Some roofs are tarred, some are grass covered. Broken glass is frequent. At the edge of the last inter-connected roof you can see a bare-backed man seated below stretching as if preparing his body for the day. My descent is watched by another man in a comfortable-looking bedroll. Towards the park centre is the dry sunken pond forty by forty feet. South of it is the only curved lines in the park, a large bowl ten feet across tilted to the north. From the low rim a set of dry ponds descend to the large pond. Close to the bowl you can see the steps were cataracts, the bowl is a fountain. In the park silence floats protected from the early city sounds by the leafy trees.
There are no benches, only raised concrete blocks a foot high that once held flat wooden platforms for seating at one time. An original bench still sits on the blocks at the corner of Viger and Saint-Denis. It’s made of two-by-fours on edge held together by end pieces. The top edges have been rounded by rain and freezing and sun, some of the planks are warped. The wood surfaces are dark and cracked and rounded by city erosion.
The Berri side of the park is a long row of the structures, some of them have ivy curtains framing the tunnel view. Three Africans dressed in light coloured clothes amble into the park from Berri and Saint-Antoine. They are thin and walk together. I take a couple of pictures and hear a shout behind me. I finish my shots and turn slightly, they are ambling towards me spreading apart. I note a three-foot piece of rebar in the grass at my feet. I move away slowly looking for more perspectives, they follow unhurriedly. I exit the park before I’m ready to and don’t look back.
Later I come back again and the three are leaning against structures about ten feet apart, not talking. It must be their park.
11 comments
Bulldoze that thing.
Hey look! A park!
And to think Héritage Montréal has it as a “site menacé” … of significant patrimonial importance.
Yikes. I can’t wait for that whole park to be restored to it’s original grandeur.
Great park for the kids this is!
You can play ‘spot the needle’, ‘don’t touch that’, and ‘umm… i don’t know why’ .Good place for a picnic!
It’s trendy right now to think modernism is so amazing and totally wow, maybe because it reminds us of welfare-state Keynesianism, but modernists really fucked up a lot of cities with and this is just more proof.
It’s hard to imagine how the designers saw a space like this being used. I remeember walking through it shortly after it was built and being impressed by ingenuity of the thing. But it wasn’t built with humans in mind, I’d say.
I think it *could* be a cosy space for picnics – I’m guessing the “built-up” edges were designed to protect the users from the noise and pollution of the several lanes of traffic surrounding the park (and to reduce the possibility of children running out into the street).
The problem here is probably just as much social policy as it is to do with urbanism. Look at Berri Park for example – in summer when it is swarming with people attending events, and it is well policed, it is actually a relatively pleasant place to be.
The rest of the year, when it is forgotten, the City uses it as a convenient place to assemble the unwanted. So it is with Viger Park.
The problem is with the concrete “shack”; it is a natural repellent at night as it feels unsafe to people walking through. Once it is identified as a drug/homeless area, it then becomes deserted during the day. If it were not enclosed and covered, there would be a disincentive for homeless to take shelter there and the ‘eye on the street’ would naturally ‘police’ the area.
Sometimes, one just to admit that something is a bad idea, and reform it. No matter what public policy sugar-coating is put in place, I don’t think it will work. In this case, raze the concrete monstrosity and rethink the park. No enclosed areas and give a reason for people to go there every day (an art piece is just not enough, sorry)
It definitely needs to be greener.
And — nevermind what’s happening under these concrete roofs, a lot more is going on the top of these… Working nearby with a view on the “park” from the 5th floor was an ugly sight!
While I agree there are issues – the comment by Shawn who said the designers did not have humans in mind… how can we say that when humans frequent this spot on a regular basis.. actually living in this spot. After speaking with a few of the dwellers of this space I learnt that the design of the arches are quite perfect for the homeless individual who has (perhaps) escaped a pressuring home, or a cloistering idea of traditional architecture. In many conversations I heard that the idea of a space with a roof and no walls is a perfect place to dwell for one who feel closterphobic and contained within walls of shelters and homes. What a beautiful picture that paints… It has also fostered a place for homeless people with dogs to conviene and it has in fact been cleaned up (by the homeless with help from shelters and organizations) by implementing needle disposals and trash cans.
I think that the “public” is too quick to judge spaces like this as failures when one should ask – who has it failed?
Viger Square 20120603
Early Sunday morning I look across Rue Viger over a concrete border into a park of freshly greened ash trees and untended grass that’s already high in mid May. Mounting the border I can see the park surface is all paving stone except for raised beds of earth of different rectangular shapes from which the grass and happy dandelion plants grow under young ash trees thirty to forty feet high creating untended inner city wilderness. Further inside are one-story concrete structures, some connected, some isolated, stretching to the other side ending at a concrete wall bordering Rue Saint-Antoine. Ivy climbs some of the structures and covers some of the walls. To the right are more raised beds out to Rue Saint-Denis. To the left, under the trees it looks like there’s a dry sunken pond, perfectly square, backed by a rectangular building holding up a flat painted surface. Behind the building is Rue Berri. I follow the greenery east to Saint-Denis and turn left at the sidewalk. Halfway along the park’s eastern edge on Saint-Denis you can look left through various rectangular columns supporting concrete roofs, some solid, some showing concrete ribs with daylight shining through.
I enter the park again on the paving stones and find a low wall which offers a climbable step to the top of the structures. The structures are connected by four-foot wide spans with two feet of grass running down the centres. Some roofs are tarred, some are grass covered. Broken glass is frequent. At the edge of the last inter-connected roof you can see a bare-backed man seated below stretching as if preparing his body for the day. My descent is watched by another man in a comfortable-looking bedroll. Towards the park centre is the dry sunken pond forty by forty feet. South of it is the only curved lines in the park, a large bowl ten feet across tilted to the north. From the low rim a set of dry ponds descend to the large pond. Close to the bowl you can see the steps were cataracts, the bowl is a fountain. In the park silence floats protected from the early city sounds by the leafy trees.
There are no benches, only raised concrete blocks a foot high that once held flat wooden platforms for seating at one time. An original bench still sits on the blocks at the corner of Viger and Saint-Denis. It’s made of two-by-fours on edge held together by end pieces. The top edges have been rounded by rain and freezing and sun, some of the planks are warped. The wood surfaces are dark and cracked and rounded by city erosion.
The Berri side of the park is a long row of the structures, some of them have ivy curtains framing the tunnel view. Three Africans dressed in light coloured clothes amble into the park from Berri and Saint-Antoine. They are thin and walk together. I take a couple of pictures and hear a shout behind me. I finish my shots and turn slightly, they are ambling towards me spreading apart. I note a three-foot piece of rebar in the grass at my feet. I move away slowly looking for more perspectives, they follow unhurriedly. I exit the park before I’m ready to and don’t look back.
Later I come back again and the three are leaning against structures about ten feet apart, not talking. It must be their park.