Freed falling

Now this is just plain creepy.



Bad Buildings hopes Mr. Brush Cut with the suit and tie is an actor, and a well-paid one at that. But to be honest, Bad Buildings has no time to be creeped out. We're too busy being angry. This building, by the careless clowns at Freed Developments, boasts the usual litany of developer money-grubbing: Out-of-proportion, out of context and, frankly, out of their freakin' minds. 16 stories. At King and Bathurst. Nevermind that the official plan cuts the height restriction off at 8 -- less than half.

As Bad Buidings stresses, these are just the usual offences in a hyper-development climate plagued with an OMB that is all too happy to rubber-stamp most any proposed violation of our city's official plan. What makes 650 King -- or, in its own marketing-ese, six50king -- more revolting is what it so callously displaces.

Sadly, this teeny-tiny picture is the best we can do -- especially now that Freed has encased the lovely brick of the original 650 King's modern, elegant facade in horizontal wood hoarding (Good Lord, people, that is so Wallpaper magazine, circa 1996).

Bad Buildings had the good fortune of actually going in 650 King, a few years back, when it was still a semi-active uniform factory, built in the early 20th century. The clean, concrete slab floors, the band windows, the light pouring into against the warm brick walls set Bad Buildings in the mind of pure, urbane beauty -- a palette against which lives could be rendered so perfectly.

Instead, we're going to tear it down. Tear it down, and replace it with 16 stories of glass that will lord over this stretch of King Street West that, as it stands, is among the most perfectly-scaled streetscapes in the city.

The original 650 was part of that streetscape, a seamless blend of form, proportion and material that enhanced the experience of simply being there. In its place, yet another monstrosity that bears no relation to its surroundings.

Sad, but typical. Pete Freed, you've let us down this time. Which is surprising, really, because some of your other developments have been sensitive compliments to the cityscape they inhabit. We like 550 Wellington; it inhabits its space with restraint, and promises to enliven the neighbourhood with sleek, subtle density. We like 66 Portland; OK, we liked the old light industrial stuff you knocked down to build it better, but your development there defers nicely to the proportional streetscape it squats behind.

And now this. So what happened, Pete? It makes us think you were playing possum, paying some dues and building some political capital so you could turn around and stab us in the back. If you let us down like this, Petey, how can we ever love you again?