Spontaneous vs. Planned Public Spaces
An imaginary beach shows us what is possible if don't try to plan everything
I’m currently reading the book Messy Cities, appropriately subtitled “Why we can’t plan everything”. It explores the balance and tradeoffs between a meticulously planned city and one where things just happen on their own. What an important thing to consider, especially when major cities in North America are contemplating loosening-up zoning rules and finally attempting to build housing to address more peoples’ needs (aka the missing middle). Ultimately, I completely agree that you can’t plan everything. A certain amount of planning is a good thing, but I’m a big fan of as little regulation and top-down imposition as possible.
One example that struck me as especially poignant is that of the Bloordale Beach. If you haven’t heard of it, get ready for something completely different. Shari Kasman, a local Toronto artist, helped create Bloordale Beach during the pandemic. But it’s not what you think: the “beach” was created on a vacant gravel lot after a high school was demolished and before a new one was built in its place. So why a beach? It’s symbolic. Absurdist. It’s about the vibes. Beach vibes! Plan that.
The idea came to Kasman and her friend after seeing a resident sunbathing alone on the site. They put up signs naming the space Bloordale Beach, and soon after people started showing up to spend time together, make art, music, and just enjoy the impromptu public space. It’s been described as a community centre without the building. Given how many songs, poems, and documentaries have been made about it, it’s clear people loved it.
In contrast, a few weeks ago I attended the 15th anniversary of the Evergreen Brick Works. The Brick Works is a magical public space that was impressively created with a great deal of planning and hard work. An old industrial site that was anything but hospitable was turned into a beautiful space with trees, ponds, lovely hiking trails, and revitalized structures to host events and activities. Hundreds of thousands of people visit the Brick Works every year, it’s the home of a huge farmer’s market, and there are children’s programs and other community events. Every time I visit, I feel refreshed, energized, and peaceful.
Bloordale Beach and Evergreen Brick Works could not be more different. One was conjured into being as a bit of an inside joke, the other took big donations and many years of careful planning and development. One was nothing more than a flat, gravel construction site and the other is a lush, natural wonderland. One only existed for a few months and was constantly being shut down by the city, the other just celebrated its 15th anniversary with new features and improvements always underway.
And yet, both are examples of public spaces of immense value to the community. They were/are a source of joy, connection, and improved quality of life. This is a perfect example of the importance of balancing how much planning you do in a city. Not so much that would prevent Bloordale Beach from existing, and not so little to get in the way of bold, ambitious projects like the Brick Works. A vibrant city needs both.

