Corus Building: Sugar and Spice and Not Everything Nice

By Cameron Barker

The revitalization of Toronto’s waterfront represents the awakening of an untapped potential symbolizing Toronto as a truly distinct and creative 21st Century metropolis. This explains why the new Corus Entertainment building at the foot of Jarvis Street and Queens Quay should have been a monumental place reflecting the grandiose presence of Toronto in today’s ever-globalizing world. Unfortunately, the building missed the point, or perhaps I did.

As I cycled my way eastward on Queens Quay Boulevard over the bumpy and pot-holed pavement of the south side bike lane, I came upon a looming gray mass: the Corus Entertainment Building woefully named Corus Quay. The building is one of the first buildings in Toronto subjected to the rigorous scrutiny of the city’s Design Review Panel, which should have resulted in design excellence; something it does not have.

What should have been a beacon summoning the city’s masses to the two new parks flanking the building’s exterior, is instead a glass and steel beam box on the waterfront. Renaissance or status quo? The answer is opaque. Either way, while I walked around the building (also a construction site), I noticed that the building’s mass and scale belittled me and did not engage with the waterfront like I originally thought it would. 

I couldn’t help but think that a large public art piece reflecting the hopes of a renewed relationship with the water or a building with colour and tenacity would have delivered so much more impact and beauty. The building site, albeit challenging to work with, exudes a suburban banality, making up for this shortfall by delivering creative nuances in park design exponentially improving the public realm in a historically neglected area. For the most part, the building could be easily replicated in a big box auto-mall or Brampton industrial park – my feeling is that it was designed this way for money’s sake – but could have been a reflection of the drab industrial heritage of the area. Regardless, imagination has been thwarted in the name of cost, in my humble opinion.

Negativity aside, the site does contribute to the animation of a once destitute stretch of waterfront. Canada’s Sugar Beach, officially opening this summer, is an amazing amalgamation of progressive planning and represents a new way of interpreting our public spaces. Since I visited the site in early July, the sun was blazing and sand fire hot, making for a pleasurable beach experience – forcing me to forget I was sitting across from a monolithic sugar refinery. I dug my feet into the sand and enjoyed, ignoring the flat grey box watching over me from behind.

The main redeeming quality of the site is this new beach. For the Corus employee searching for a lazy lunch on a summer’s day, this beach is an excellent refuge for meandering pedestrians or cyclists passing by on Queens Quay. The beach lies directly to the west of the Corus building, with sugar maples lining an angular beachfront, candy-striped stones and stunning pink umbrellas. What the building lacks in personality, Sugar Beach makes up for in balance, creativity and constructive urban design. In fact, the Corus building has opened up a conversation with the park by creating three large perforations in the building envelope at-grade to provide outdoor performance and festival space. This detail is a sign that Corus Entertainment is willing to engage with the public and nurture a relationship that fosters discussion and interaction. As I walked past these sliding doors I dreamt of the hot summer days where the small treed mounds and candied boulders would be covered with people enjoying the music coming from the amphitheatre or watching a radio jockey play the crowd. Maybe there is some hope for this site and this building after all.

Feeling belittled, I wandered around a bit more, checking out elements of the building’s design, which leave little to the imagination focusing on gray-tinted glass, moderate setbacks and boxiness. The large columns lining the entrances and sides of the building do not allow the wanderer to feel particularly welcome. In fact, I ventured into the lobby of the building and bought a coffee in the coffee shop, but was promptly told there was no entry to the public past the front desk; not even for a tour. To perhaps lessen the impact of its harsh design, I couldn’t help but think that curves, angled glazing or a more distinctive use of colour would lessen the appearance of institutionalism and provide an environment that reflects the purposes of waterfront revitalization: enhancing the public realm and improving the environment for human reflection and enjoyment. Perhaps with the future opening of Sherbourne Common just directly east of the Corus site, the building may evolve further, playing an active role in the slowly unfolding drama on Toronto’s urban waterfront. 

What I now know is that I enjoyed my coffee in the sun, dipped my feet in the sizzling sand and turned my back to the Corus building, much like it has to the waterfront it was supposedly meant to revitalize. Oh! I forgot to say that my coffee went unsweetened regardless of the sugar refinery next door; maybe I’ll wait until Sugar Beach is officially opened, but for now artificial sweetener will have to do. Thanks Corus – all sweetness aside.