Zig-Zag Storefronts and The Norway Apartments

211-213 Bank, at Nepean — with the crazy brickwork on the storefronts. Goad indicates construction between 1878 and 1888, with a grocer and a druggist doing business here by the latter date. At some point, the building was extended back along Nepean, creating a decent-sized apartment block at #178.

That annex, "The Norway" can be seen to the left in this side view, clad in darker brick.

The Norway (entrance just to the left of the blue car) comprised thirteen units — numbered 1-12, 14 — and probably still does. It was built some time between 1916 and 1923.

487 Lewis

Still. Being. Rebuilt.

Action Jackson

Those those of us who first rode the Montreal Metro as kids visiting Expo '67 may find this mosaic oddly resonant. It adorns the entrance of the Jackson Building at the corner of Bank and Slater and was created by Quebec artist Jean-Paul Mousseau. During the 1960s, Mousseau was commissioned to decorate the Peel Metro station, which he did, extensively, in the same op-art style we see here — his cheerfully-coloured rotated disc motif evoking the motion of the subway trains themselves. Or maybe he was just into dots.

This mosaic carries well enough into the Jackson's early '70s style — which, as it turns out, has nothing to do with the building's original (1920) appearance.

According to Urbsite, (check out his informative and much-illustrated article here)

"...The Jackson Building (1919-20) was designed by J. Albert Ewart in a restrained Tudor-Jacobean style. Ewart had just completed the Transportation Building (1916) for Booth, and later designed Gordon Edward's Victoria Building on Wellington Street (1928) in a similar vein.

As it grew grimy with age, and the rooftop features became unstable and had to be removed, the Jackson Building entered a long slow decline. In 1969-71 the Jackson was modernized with a total makeover designed by James Strutt...."

Also, take a look at "A History of the Jackson Building" at Images of Centretown.

Splendid, Modern, Fireproof... Ottawa Journal, May 13 1922

Peel Metro Station, David Sidaway / Montreal Gazette, March 12 2017

In 1958, the "old" Jackson Building suffered blast damage from a gas explosion at the Addressograph-Multigraph Building directly across the street on Slater. "Today in Ottawa's History" has an account of the disaster here. According to TiOH,

"...The Jackson Building, where thousands [?!] of civil servants worked, situated at the corner of Slater and Bank Streets across from the Addressograph building, was also severely damaged. Virtually all its windows were blown out; debris, sent high in the sky by the force of the blast, littered its roof. Major-General H.A. Young, the deputy minister of public works, said that the building had been reduced to “a shell.” So twisted were its elevator shafts that all twelve elevators were out of commission; filing cabinets and furniture were later retrieved using external hoists. Remarkably, however, the sturdy, nine-story office building, the tallest in Ottawa, remained structural sound, and was later repaired..."

blast damage at Bank and Slater, via "Today in Ottawa's History"

This view of the blast site, across Slater from the Jackson Building, shows the Addressograph Building shattered to matchsticks. The crumpled shell behind it is the Odeon Theatre on Bank Street — flimsy and hollow. These sites remain vacant to this day.

Window Kitteah, qu'est-ce que c'est?

470-472 O'Connor, the Glebe

Might puts the build-date of this lovingly maintained north-Glebe gem somewhere between 1901 and 1909. Goad reminds us that as late as 1898, O'Connor stopped at Pretoria (then Jane) — this property was then still part of a sports field (see below). Top maps indicate that O'Connor was extended south to Fifth Avenue no later than 1906.

The Expectant Parking Lot

The Albert/Lyon/Slater/Bay block, once thick with Victorian era working-class homes, later home to the Alterna Savings building, now sits mostly empty, waiting for Manor Park Management and Broccolini to do something tall with it.

People used to live here

Part of a cluster of boarded-up houses on a lot collectively designated 494 Lisgar (per geoOttawa). Read about the wassup here, here, and here.

Holiday Turquoise and Canary Yellow

Resolved: that architecture is, in some instances, for the birds.

Some Day My Prints Will Come

Daly Building, 1905-1992

Green Valley Restaurant, 1947-2002

Drawings of "lost" buildings in Ottawa (and other Canadian cities) by Montreal artist Raymond Biesinger —check out his work here. Heck, you can even buy prints from him!

152 Nepean

This once-charming brick-on-wood two-and-a-half-storey house dates to 1888ish, no later than 1891. It's a shame to see that decoratiove woodwork falling into neglect. There's some nice brick coursing above the windows, half-hidden by a small tree.

#152's first occupant was likely Thomas Green (or Greene, depending on the typesetter's mood), a surveyor for the Department of Indian Affairs. Shortly thereafter, the address became associated with the name Keenan. Might (1901) lists D. Douglas Keenan, a bookkeeper, as well as Miss Belle and Miss Jessie Keenan, both dressmakers.

Jessie Keenan, working mere steps from home, Feb. 9 1903

The vegetation here (to change topic abruptly) is interesting. That ragged-looking tree is an eastern (or northern) white cedar or "arborvitae" (Thuja occidentalis*). While common enough outside the city (there are some very old specimens in Rockcliffe Park), this tree was surely transplanted. Long-lived and slow-growing, this specimen may well have stood here since the house was built. 

If the liana struggling to tear down the porch is a Boston ivy, it's one of the gnarliest I've ever met. 

Apart from the tree and the vine, any garden that may have been, no longer is.

That's the Soho Lisgar in the background (viewer's right), as well as the yellow-clad Onyx Condos, the latter nearing completion.


*The name, assigned by Linnaeus in 1753, means "western Thuja", which would seem to contradict the popular name "eastern white cedar" — that is, native to eastern North America. As Thujas occur in Asia, we must suppose that Linnaeus described this one as "occidental" to distinguish it from its oriental relatives. Also, "cedar" a misnomer. Thuja is a kind of cypress, unrelated to true cedars.

Oh, and "Boston" ivy is native to China, Japan and Korea. And it's not a real ivy. I know, botany can be such a joy in the ass.

Massacre at Taliesin

We don't usually associate Frank Lloyd Wright's iconic Taliesin (1911, Spring Green Wisconsin) with gory mass murder. Apparently it's time we did.  Check out Stephanie Waldek's diverting Daily Beast article here. For that matter, bookmark the Beast and visit it at least once a day. Really, I insist.

504 Albert Street

According to the Ottawa Community Housing Association, "This old heritage home was built in 1865 and was converted into seven apartments retaining the original hardwood floors, crown molding, high ceilings and more..." Given #504's stone walls and enviable perch looking down on Lebreton Flats, 1865 sounds like a credible build-date.

Ten years later, Woodburn's Directory would list "Todd Alpheus, librarian parliament" at this address. The one mile walk to a job in that most splendid room in the whole city must have provided a satisfying beginning (and end) to his work day.

As it happens, Mr. Todd was the librarian*, the Chief Parliamentary Librarian — you can read about him here.

Alpheus Todd, 1821-1844

Three years after Woodburn's entry, Goad (1878, sheet 44) shows #504 as a one-and-a-half storey stone building, ingloriously clipped by the western edge of the plan, with a bay window on its eastern side. The effect would have been that of a low-set stone cottage.

By 1888, the house was occupied by "Jenkins Chas W" (Woodburn, no occupation listed) and had gained an additional storey,  ("R.C" — rough cast, i.e. plaster, per Goad) for a total of the "two-and-a-half" we see today.

*Ook!

"Rural-like Privacy"

Ottawa Journal, summer 1968

I was in either grade 10 or grade 11 at Gloucester High School (1968-'69) when our little clique of hash-smokers (toking off a pin!) welcomed its first Blackburn stoner. His family would have been among the earliest settlers in the Hamlet and he would have been in the vanguard of an army of potheads to emerge from that "exciting but...peaceful and quiet" east-end neighbourhood over the next five decades.

Ottawa-Premixed Concrete...

Ottawa Journal, May 19 1955

...draws attention to itself in the politest possible way.

Three years later...

geoOttawa, 1958 — stitched, view full-size

Westgate is in the upper right ("W"), facing onto Carling Avenue. "H" indicates the location of the not-yet-built Hampton Park Plaza, directly east of Kirkwood. We can see the road-bed for the future Queensway cutting diagonally across the image, following the the old CN rail right-of-way.

That section of train track was first laid in 1893 as part of J.R. Booth's Ottawa, Arnprior and Parry Sound line (OA&PS). Booth would later consolidated this into his Canada Atlantic Railway (CAR) which was in turn subsumed by the Grand Trunk Railway. This would eventually become a Canadian National holding — CN finally abandoned the track in 1952.

Hudson Park, 235-245 Kent (at Nepean)

245 Kent Street, between downpours

Of the Hudson Park condos, ottawascondominiums.com enthuses...

[C]onstructed by Charlesfort on Kent St in Ottawa... [b]oth buildings are located side-by-side in the heart of Centretown in Ottawa’s business district. Inspired by New-York Art Deco, the exterior architecture of the Hudson Park buildings is astounding. The Hudson Park buildings bring their classy exterior design to the inside. The lobbies are tastefully detailed and decorated. All units feature 9-foot ceilings giving the feel of being in the “Big Apple”.

So yes, Hudson Park as in "...on the Hudson". The HP towers occupy the SE corner of Kent and Nepean, diagonally across from St. Patrick's Basilica. So arranged, #235 actually faces onto Nepean — the two buildings are set at 90° to each other, their proximal ends silhouetted to striking effect thus...

They're a gorgeous pair whether seen from a distance or up close.

The Hudson Park Towers were built between 2007 and 2010. They displaced a McEvoy-Shields funeral home that sat on the corner.

CharlesFort / Ottawa Citizen

507 Cooper Street

Well, we said we needed rain, didn't we?

Goad (1888, sheet 55) depicts 507 Cooper (at the NE corner of Lyon) as a two-storey wooden house with a one-and-a-half storey summer kitchen and a pair of one-storey sheds, one of which we see here at the left.

The Might Directory for the same year shows recent construction on this block of Cooper but doesn't yet list 507, so a build-date of circa 1888 is a good guess. The first occupant who I can confirm was a Mr. Edouard U. Bourcier (Might 1901). He worked as a salesman for Bryson, Graham and Co., a department store on Sparks Street. If you're curious about Bryson Graham, you can read a history of the store here.

A "circa" date of 1888 would make 2018 this house's 130th "circa-birthday". Not bad for a humble wooden building. Many (most?) examples of clapboard siding in this city have been either covered or replaced with aluminum or vinyl. I didn't get around to poking #507 to see whether such is the case here, though the width of the siding strips would likely be a dead giveaway for someone who actually knows about these things.

Later:
I poked it. IT'S WOOD. I don't know if it's the original exterior but it's actual wood, under multiple layers of paint. 

287-289 Lyon Street

Much deeper than it is wide, Goad indicates that #287 was under construction in 1912. A year later, Might would list 287 and 289, both occupied. Thus the present arrangement, with a side entrance for #289, seems to go back a ways (both temporally and spatially!)

Lyon Street used to be called "Sally Street" which was a heck of a lot more fun, I think.

456 Lisgar

456 Lisgar (and its neighbour #466 to your right) replaced two pre-1888 wooden buildings, a house at 456 and house/grocery-store duplex at 466 on the corner of Lyon.

The present buildings appeared some time between 1958 and 1965. I'm old enough to remember when 456 could have been taken for a stylish walk-up, with its ample windows a and sassy side-stairwell. Older walk-ups have retained their charm — I'm not sure this one ever really had any.

During the 1970s, #456 was the subject of a rash of ads for "furnished" bachelor and 1-bedroom apartments. "Call before coming" — don't ask why.

446 Lisgar

446 Lisgar was built some time during the first decade of the 20th century. It is listed in the 1909 Might Directory as home to "sergt of police"  Benjamin McCarthy. Goad (1912 sheet 55) portrays #446 as a simple two-storey brick-on-wood house.  Mismatched brickwork confirms that the facade we see here encloses what were originally open verandas.

The hip-roofed neighbour at #440 was shoe-horned in some time after 1933.

510 Cooper Street

 When Ottawa was first being built, corner lots seem to have been all the rage with the monied sort — how better to see and being seen? Corner-hugging verandahs were common on houses that faced two streets at once. Charles Goad (insurance maps) confirms that #510 was indeed the first house built on this lot. It dates to some time between 1889 and 1900.

This late-Victorian design is solidly massed, but asymmetric to the bitter end of Empire. The owner-builder was likely William J. Campbell. He would have had a five minute walk to work in the morning — the 1901 Might Directory lists...

CAMPBELL WM J, Manufacturer of

Boilers, Tanks and Bridge Work

478-482 Maria [Laurier W],

res 510 Cooper

A detail from an 1888 Goad map shows W.J. Campbell & Co. Engineering straddling block 263 (sheet 42). The multiple tent-like marks on grey indicate skylights. A year after the above was published, there was a fire.

Ottawa Journal, July 20 1889

"All the patterns... were destroyed and will be hard to replace" — now that, I'm sure, was brutal.

I have not found an obituary that would neatly summarize Mr. Campbell's life, but I'll keep an eye open.

the Desmond Apartments

That's them down in front.

#214 Gloucester Street acquired its "Desmond Apartments" moniker around 1912. Indeed, the Desmond's street-face matches that of a prim, early 20th century walkup, neo-Georgian by my guessing. However, the even number of bays force the ground floor symmetry askew, shoving the entrance off-center and hinting that behind the red brick veneer, things were once rather different.

This building, or a scaled-down version thereof, actually dates back at least to the mid 1870s, when a conjoined trio of humble two-storey wooden houses stood here — at the time a mere two blocks north of what was then the edge of town. The units numbered, from east to west, 212, 214 and (for whatever reason) 218 and were veneered in brick on their north (front) and west side. Each enjoyed the use of a summer kitchen out back.

By 1888 (per Goad), the trio had grown by a half-storey in height and had spawned an assortment of sheds out back. By 1912 however, something more radical was afoot. Here is Goad's sheet #38 for that year — direct your attention to the upper left section of the map.

This is the part where the ugly duckling dashes into a phone booth and re-emerges a shimmering butterfly. #218 has been renumbered 216 to stop people from asking silly questions. Our row now stands at a full three-storeys, and someone has cleared out all weeds, sheds and rusted junk in the back yards and tacked on an L-shaped two-storey extension, made entirely of concrete blocks (shown here in blue). This new feature extended to the very rear of the property. Well that doesn't just happen by accident.

Yes, we can all see a plumber's shop at 212, but look how the 214 has taken to calling itself (herself?) "The Desmond Apartments".  Lets hop into the city directories and try to fine-tune this scene before Miss Desmond "smiles" for the camera.

Stepping back three years, Might's 1909 listings at 214 and 218 are business as usual, though "Miller John" sharing 212 with "McGarr Mrs Mary C, mus tchr" might have raised eyebrows — unless a widowed music teacher had simply taken in a boarder to make ends meet.

Our next stop is 1912, which happens to be same date as the Goad map above. Might and Goad seem to agree on the details here (and trust me they don't always). Might lists...

212 O'Connell M M, Ltd, plumbers
214 Desmond Apts
216 Edge Vincent J

Well, our plumber has a name (this will become important soon enough), the "Desmond Apartments" don't yet have tenants to speak of, and the endlessly dashing Vincent J. Edge (with that name, how could he be otherwise?) lives at the recently renumbered 216. Actually, Mr. Edge — I had to look — was a "clk corres br" at the "Dept M & F", a job at which I'm sure he excelled, dashingly.

Might 1913 brings us news... The Desmond claims three tenants (names not important, as long as they pay the rent)... Plumber O'Connell and clerk Edge are holding steady at 212 and 216 respectively, but for how much longer?
1914... O'Connell still there... Desmond steady at three tenants, but wait... 216 now vacant! — where has Mr. Edge dashed off to?
Checking in on 1915 we see OH MY GOD 212 and 216 are gone! And the Desmond is listing 22 units including one for a janitor. How much do you want to bet that O'Connell fellow turned the whole shebang (including the concrete-block extension behind his shop) into one huge apartment building? I think Miss Desmond is just about ready for her close-up.

This just in from 1917, Miss Desmond makes the news...

The Ottawa Journal, February 28 1917

Well hunky-dory, that ain't hay — looks like M.M. O'Connell wasn't just a plumber!

A decade-and-pocket-change later, aerial photos (geoOttawa 1928) show the Desmond in its present configuration, extending backwards past the original property with three full storeys of (concrete block?) construction and the intriguing balcony/light-wells we see today — shoot a music video there already!

I don't want to say that the Desmond is a weird building but sure is funky. At some point, someone (O'Connell? Foley & Gleeson?) tried to make a silk purse from three sows' ears by slapping on some kind of Georgian revival facade where a row of Victorian house-fronts had already weathered several decades.

The effect is charming at a glance, a bit clumsy on close inspection (think of a face-lift with hesitation marks). The veneer that should be signaling a chic little walk-up instead plays deceptively small exterior to the Desmond's sprawling TARDIS. Expanses of side-wall are covered in a regrettable textured resin cladding, while the rear is studded in molded faux masonry. And for whatever reason parts of the light-well exteriors feature expanses of individually hand-troweled fake stone. It's wonderful and... funky. Do check it out some time.

The Desmond from behind, Nepean Street view