Toronto's future: not Crystal clear

It is difficult to miss the Michael-Lee Chin Crystal. It pokes out of the ROM like a giant metallic zit, ready to erupt any second on unsuspecting tourists and shame-faced Torontonians. The Crystal has laid under a pile of hushed criticisms, waiting until the compounding grumbles of up-tight critics to finally infiltrate our national public consciousness. Without sounding too ominous, one might say that the time has come for Torontonians to wake up and realize that our city is under the threat of bad review. In a December 27th Washington Post article, culture critic Phillip Kennicott announced that the Crystal was the worst architectural creation of the decade, surpassing even the many "Wal-Marts thrown up in the Aughts." Kennicott claims that Daniel Libeskind's addition to the ROM "surpasses the ugliness of bland functional buildings by being both ugly and useless." In what may be a misguided attempt at giving Toronto a European flavour, Libeskind has added to Toronto's tourism appeal. While a small (barely 700 words) article written by an American culture critic in a notable newspaper with a very large subscription in print and online says that the ROM Crystal was "ugly" may not seem like a big deal, beware the power of the word-of-mouth; it can sometimes turn our heads if only for a half-a-second. The spread of jaded criticisms, gaining momentum from within and abroad, will inevitably run amock.

Kennicott's view that Libeskind's addition to our national museum seem to go for shocking and Euro-chic rather than functionality may be valid. However, after speaking with a few people about the article, I came to the conclusion that while I don't like the Crystal saying it out loud seems anti-patriotic. In a post-9/11 world, where allegiance is best demonstrated by individuals partaking in various projects that emphasize "construction" for a "constructive future," voicing an opinion that impedes the forward momentum is rebuked as dead-weights holding back progress. In a race to patch up society with progressive and innovative landmarks where cities seem whole and intact, voicing anti-Crystal sentiments would appear to be more like Toronto-bashing than a critique of the building itself.

Constructive progress is not all bad, it certainly gets us as a society from point A to B. However, how we choose to progress must be questioned and architecture is a great place to start. For instance, Libeskind's addition to our cultural milieu is neither new nor original. As a professor of the Daniels Faculty of Architecture pointed out, Toronto is crawling with these edgy-chic buildings. The redesign of the AGO building by Frank Gehry is one of the most recent examples.

However, take a look at the buildings around our fair campus for a contrast to buildings like the Crystal and the AGO. The Grad Students Building (at Harbord and Spadina) designed by LA Starchitect Thom Mayne of Morphosis, the Terrence Donnelly Centre for Cellular and Biomolecular Research building by Behnisch Architects (from Germany), or the Pharmacy Building by London's Sir Norman Foster's firm. All these buildings, while they invite their own criticism, share a common element: they are nonetheless edgy but functional edifices.

John Shnier, an Associate Professor at Daniels, cites the ROM Crystal as an example of "Deconstructivism," a late reactionary branch of the postmodern architecture of the '80s and '90s. According to Shnier, Libeskind pursues a "non-figurative, abstracted and highly idiosyncratic language" in his design of the Crystal. Like most indie rock bands or freelance authors, architects try to avoid labels that critics thrust upon them. However, Libeskind's particular label has followed him to Toronto, staking claim on the ROM.

Touring the museum, I felt overwhelming pride in seeing the exhibits; the world brought into our view. But the Vanity Fair Exhibit, part of the Contemporary Culture section of the ROM, was featured inside the Crystal, and it was a shame. As one makes one's way around the pictures the flow is continually disrupted by an abrupt end of a display wall that juts out of the ground like a protruding rock.

The content of the museum is exceptional, but is wrongly housed inside the Crystal, which infuriates the viewer rather than engaging them. I found it funny that Kennicott claimed to "go inside [the Crystal] you need a map to move around its irrational and baffling dead spaces." Setting aside my partiality to be defensive to criticism from a non-Canadian source, Kennicott has a point. Having visited the Crystal, in consideration with Professor Shnier's observations, the space inside the Crystal does not create "as immersive an 'aura' of experience as the exterior form may beg us to anticipate." Visitors require that experience to fully realize, what Shnier calls, "the emotional, educational or didactic aura of the artefacts themselves." In this respect the space inside the Crystal is not "dead." One almost gets the sense that the Crystal is mutating from the inside. However, this mutation leaves behind the history of the original ROM building, making its legacy secondary to the vogue Crystal.

The cost of the Crystal should also be considered. Kennicott got it wrong when he sarcastically informed his readers it took "only $250 million" [italics are added] to build the ROM. Actually, the Crystal cost actually cost about $270 million, as explained on the ROM's website. The Torontoist reports that Michael-Lee Chin got his name on the crystal by donating $30 million. However, a substantial amount (about $72 million) was funded by both the Ontario and federal governments (chances are we the tax payers coughed that up). Shouldn't Torontonians have a say?

As it proudly proclaims on their website, "the Michael Lee-Chin Crystal marks the beginning of a new age for the ROM." Sure the wide-eyed, open-jawed tourist appeal is great. However, in terms of how Torontonians perceive the future of their city, are we sure that we want Libeskind's creation to be the emblem of that future?