Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Of Bridges and Engines

Many railway buffs will be familiar with Engine 86, an old locomotive currently on display at the Western Fair Grounds. Manufactured by the Canadian Locomotive Company in 1910, Engine 86 was used by the Grand Trunk and CNR before being donated to the City of London in 1958. 

 Unfortunately, donating an antique to the City of London is a mistake. That is, if you actually want it to be looked after. Despite being restored, mainly by GM Diesel in 1996-99, the Engine is rusting and animals are building a nest inside. The water tank was left uncovered for years so that rain and snow entered and rusted away the bottom of the tender. Although it was painted just a few years ago, rust is once again showing through. 

Now maybe it's just me but I can't really see the point in spending money to restore an antique locomotive and leaving it outside to rust in a Canadian winter. A humble opinion: the Engine should not have been moved to its current site without providing it with a shelter. The result has been wasted time, misspent money and a lack of respect for our railway heritage. 

But hold on - the folks at LACH (London Advisory Committee on Heritage) have proposed a solution. One that also concerns the Sarnia Road Bridge. And wait til you hear it: all we have to do is tear down that silly old 1909 steel-truss bridge, store its bits and pieces for a while, and someday in the future use the pieces to make some kind of cover for Engine 86. This is a fabulous idea, except that: a) no one's really clear how you adapt bridge bits to make a shelter for a locomotive, and b) the bridge will no longer exist as a bridge. 

Better solutions for both these artifacts? a) build a real shelter around Engine 86, complete with interpretive plaques so passers-by will understand this is a cool old locomotive, and b) move the Sarnia Road Bridge over a bit and continue to use it for pedestrian and bicycle use. Unfortunately, neither of these things will happen because: a) the current Mayor and Council would never agree to spending the money, and b) come to think of it, that's the only reason. 

So here's what will really happen to these two artifacts in the future: a) The Sarnia Road Bridge will be demolished. b) The City will store its parts. c) The parts will disappear into the basement of Museum London and never be seen again. d) Engine 86 will continue to rust. 

Note: Many thanks to local historian and railway buff Stephen Harding for his commentary on the current state of Engine 86. The opinions expressed here, of course, are strictly mine.


Sunday, January 2, 2011

Aid for the Aeolian

The Aeolian Hall needs a new roof. Director Clark Bryan is asking City Council's Finance and Administration Committee for $80,000 to augment the $10,000 in donations he's received directly from the public. 

This building has a long and diverse history. It was built in 1884 on the southwest corner of Dundas and Rectory as London East Town Hall. It didn't remain a town hall for very long though; London East was annexed by the city the following year. 

Strangely for London, the fact that the building could no longer be used for its original purpose didn't result in it being torn down. A crowning example of adaptive reuse, over the years the hall has been used as a fire station and a Public Library branch among other things. For many years now it's been a performance hall, providing an excellent venue for a variety of musical events. An especially memorable concert was Scott St. John's appearance in December 1997, headlining a group of London chamber musicians paying a tribute to Franz Schubert. 

Some might say supplying a new roof for a heritage building shouldn't be part of City Hall's mandate. But when it's not just heritage at stake, but also the performing arts, London really needs to cough up the cash. The "east end" has been looking after its "town hall" for a good long time and the city needs to continue the trend.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Vestibulism on Springbank

Motorists driving along Springbank are treated to an unusual sight these days - a vestibule with no building attached. The former Kensal Park Baptist Church has been levelled, except for its front entranceway. Property owner Tim Owen says he wanted to incorporate the old building into the restaurant he's constructing but discovered the church's foundation was crumbling. Well of course it was. That's how we demolish buildings in London, by neglect. 

At any rate, one wonders what the cost difference is between repairing a foundation and tearing a building down in order to erect a new one in its place. One would think demolition and rebuilding would be more expensive. 

As construction proceeds, it will be interesting to see how the vestibule looks. I suspect about as good as the bricks of the Talbot Streetscape hanging on the outside of the JLC. Or the frontages of the Bowles Building and Capitol Theatre with entirely new buildings behind. I've mentioned this before - the habit of preserving building facades and pretending we've preserved heritage. Only in the case of Kensal Park, it's not even a facade being preserved, just a vestibule. We've proceeded to vestibulism.

Monday, November 1, 2010

A Sign of the Times

At last London City Hall plans to clamp down on "Farhi" signs. It's about time. I've been wondering for months why it was necessary for a big-time downtown landlord to let us know just how much of the city centre he owns by way of giant banners on all his properties. Sure Mr. Farhi has the right to advertise. It's just that a) many Londoners already suspect he owns nearly everything, b) he could use a little more subtlety, and c) his signs don't exactly add to the charisma of heritage buildings like Wright Lithographing. Interestingly, the banners contravene a city bylaw, but politicians have preferred looking the other way to taking on someone as apparently big and daunting as Mr. F. Trouble is, every way you look downtown there's a Farhi sign and they're getting harder to disregard.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

A Dundas Renovation

Sharon Hassan, who's co-ordinating the renovation of 142 Dundas Street, has discovered heritage is pretty neat after all. According to an October 13 Ian Gillespie column, "Hassan admits she used to drive down Dundas and wonder why somebody didn't tear down some of the old, decrepit buildings dotting the street like rotten teeth."

But since her renovation began, such items as an 1884 fashion magazine and an old box of promissory notes have been found. Now, apparently, the London lawyer has decided heritage has merit. "Lives were lived here and stories were told...And you can't just tear that down."

Perhaps if we took some land developers and city councillors on a tour of our older buildings, we could make a few more converts?

Update: Sharon and Hamoody Hassan received a heritage award at the ACO-HLF 8th Annual Heritage Awards on February 19, 2015. The award recognizes their work in preserving this historic building on Dundas Street and providing an example for the future restoration of downtown London.




Thursday, September 23, 2010

Doors Open Highlights 4: The End of the Adventure

Three more places I managed to get to at Doors Open: Brainworks, St. Luke's in the Garden Chapel and Woodland Cemetery.

Brainworks, a former home at 79 Ridout St. S., I wasn't expecting to get all that excited about. I'd never heard it was one of London's more spectacular century-old houses. But I'll go in any old house if the owners will let me so in I went. Well, it turns out Brainworks is an excellent example of how an old house can be converted into office space while saving historical details. Built in 1910, the red brick building still has attractive double verandahs, a Romanesque arch around its door, stained glass and magnificent wood panelling.

Then off to Byron. St. Luke's in the Garden is located in the former Beck Memorial Sanatorium, now CPRI. A picturesque building surrounded by lovely gardens, it also has appropriately divine stained glass windows, featuring individuals like St. Luke himself and Florence Nightingale. Less impressive is the state of a white frame building closer to the road, formerly the residence of the Medical Superintendent. Deteriorating since it stopped being used in 1990, the once-attractive Priority 1 building is yet another example of demolition by neglect.

By the time I made it to Woodland, they were out of their self-guided tour booklets. Which shows just how popular a cemetery can be - people are just dying to get in (groan). I visited the monument erected in memory of railway workers killed in the line of duty (see photo above) just because I remembered it from a previous visit. The choo-choo train at top manages to be both droll and heart-rending at the same time. And the Victorian epitaph below is guaranteed to make most modern people snigger - yet wipe their eyes. On a more macabre note, I then joined the Crematorium tour, which proved there's definitely such a thing as too much information...

No Soap

One of London's lesser-known heritage monuments is this reminder of the London Soap and Cosmetic Company at Clarence and South streets. The factory, here from 1875 to 1984, burned in April 1985, at which time it was the oldest surviving soap factory in Canada. These machines were taken from the ruins and made into a monument by the Ontario Society for Industrial Archaeology. Pretty cool, eh? It's tributes like these that add interest and entertainment value to our streets, especially when people come across them unexpectedly.