When New Embraces Old: Part 1, the Journey

To fall in love is like coming home, after all. And what is “home” but a tapestry of splendid memories whose textures weave us into who we presently are. It’s been three years since I came to UofT and I still feel that glowing thrill every time I walk through campus. Whether it’s past a century-old stone building, beneath a canopied archway of chestnuts, into a well-treed enclave, or through a high-ceilinged glass building; I am both home and on an adventure.
UofT is a place of learning—erudite, splendid, yet humble—beautifully epitomizing “new embracing old”. When new embraces old, we get magic. Wizard-magic. Harry Potter kind of magic. The kind of magic that only someone who is open, faithful, and confident can wield. This is ancient magic. The magic that lurks like Reznikoff’s ghost in the ancient halls of University College, or the magic currently wielded at 1 Spadina. A magic borne of wisdom, lore, and story.

All good stories understand and appreciate their origins. Good story builds on tradition toward something new and evolutionary. To journey forward, one must acknowledge the past. Ultimately, as Joseph Campbell said, that journey is a journey “home”.
UofT was founded 175 years ago as King’s College at the head of King’s circle. It was the first institution of higher learning in the colony of what was then Upper Canada. King’s College became the University of Toronto in 1849, and has steadily grown to include two more campuses (one in Scarborough and another in Mississauga), 9,000 faculty and staff and more than 60,000 graduate and undergraduate students. UofT has spawned major research achievements such as the discovery of insulin, the creation of the first electronic heart pacemaker, the single lung transplant and the discovery of the gene responsible for the most severe form of Alzheimer's disease. Recent advances include the discovery of the gene responsible for cystic fibrosis, cloning of the T-cell gene, and the world's first nerve transplant. During the research for my book Water Is… I continually ran across major achievements by UofT researchers in water and water-related science: from quantum entanglement in photosynthesis to billion-year water found in deep Canadian mine shafts. They are, of course, referred to in my book.

This isn’t a typical century-old university campus, isolated from its city surroundings by an enclave of heritage buildings within an ornate campus of landscaped gardens and paths. UofT certainly has some of that. But the UofT downtown campus also sprawls dozens of blocks in all directions; embedding itself in the city with a blend of century-old buildings and avant-garde modern chic. It’s not so much re-inventing itself at every turn as morphing and co-evolving with the city. Old and new fold into one another, resembling symmetrical folds of metamorphic rock along a fault line. Like the entangled embrace of a Henry Moore sculpture.
I went on walkabout recently, after the last snows receded and gave way to the warm and restless winds of spring. The day blustered as I pulled up the collar of my spring coat and headed south from the St. George subway station. The sun beamed with the promise of hot summer days as the churlish wind stirred up leaves and debris into mini tornadoes. Winter’s detritus tracked a dizzy path, like whirling dervishes in tune with a seasonal dance.
I took my usual route south on St. George, toward Galbraith and Bahen buildings, where I teach, and soon found several examples of “new meets old”.

Max Gluskin House includes a large undergraduate common room that faces into a courtyard, offices and research space for graduate students and faculty, rooms for TAs to meet with students, and expanded computer facilities. The project beautifully preserves and restores the beauty of the formal portions of the Victorian house, built in 1889 for William Crowther, and major portions of the Georgian building, completed in 1961. Ira Gluskin, who graduated from UofT’s commerce and finance program in 1964, provided the lead gift for the renovation. The facility is named in honour of his father, Max, who graduated from the same program in 1936.The renovation won second place in the commercial and institutional category of Toronto’s 2009 PUG Awards, the people’s choice awards in architecture.

The building emphasizes elaborate masonry and incorporates a prominent gable, woodwork and dormers. The Canadian School for Missions enlarged the building in 1929 with a two-storey addition in the Collegiate Gothic style. With the lofty backdrop of the Rotman Centre looming like a sentinel behind it, John Downey House sits like a russet island nested comfortably in a modern sea of cerulean glass. The centre itself, which I entered through an unassuming glass door, opens Tardis-like into an expansive open atrium with comfortable lounge and fireplace, study areas and stairways snaking up into ever higher levels

The vaulting skylit arcade uses the Koffler Centre’s older outer wall as its south wall to provide pedestrian connections through the building; at its centre, a circular stair surrounds a glass tower of shared meeting rooms for eight levels.
Bahen’s north wing embraces Chadwick House, a


What better place to end my journey of “new embracing old” than in a place where “old embraces new.”
More in Part 2.
Published on April 04, 2016 20:55
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