From condos to a park on Mackenize Avenue
Construction bollards add to the frenetic air on once-tranquil road
I’m looking at an old black and white photograph of Mackenzie Avenue, just before I walk down its short length, heading north toward the National Gallery.
Were I to step into this 1938 snapshot, the first thing I would notice is the relative tranquility. As with just about everywhere else in Ottawa, there is a frenetic air to contemporary Mackenzie, construction bollards stretching off on both sides as far as I can see.
In the photograph, once past the two large buildings on the corner at Rideau — the Château Laurier and the Daly building as was — there is only cleared space on either side. Not so now. In the photo, one can see why Lady Aberdeen had plans for this to be a ceremonial drive, not a commuter bottleneck.
In fact there are only five buildings on Mackenzie, all of them large, representing three countries. On my left is the east side of the Château Laurier, which has been there with its other three sides since 1912, and on my right a glassed-in bit of terrace attached to a restaurant which is in its turn part of a high-income condo/faux prison wing stone-clad miscast building. The grandeur and detail of the copperroofed Chateau shows up the unimaginative block across the road, each building representative of the architectural attitudes of its era.
Walking down the east side, to avoid the sidewalk reconstruction outside the Chateau, I pass a set of stairs and an elevator down to Sussex and then stand in the forecourt of the Connaught building, which is full of government offices. The large wooden doors on this side actually access the third floor of this keep, on which construction began during the First World War and which was completed after Armistice. Looking at it for a while, it reminds you of the Canadian Museum of Nature, as it should because they share the same architect, David Ewart, a man who favoured the Baronial style; the Mint is also one of his.
And so, past the wonderful, American-designed, inaccessible to those with disabilities, York Street Steps, to the American Embassy. A Januslike building, with its modern black glass and vaguely Art Deco entrance toward Parliament Hill, and its more trad stone side toward the ByWard Market.
There was a raft of objections to the building being put where it is, in 1999. There was its view-blocking potential, which is valid. And the inevitable disruption in importing the United States of Paranoia mentality to the heart of Canada’s capital, also valid, because we have lost two lanes of our traffic system. (Apparently not; a fortified bike lane is in the works for part of the lost lane.)
Crossing over to the west side at the re-asserted Peacekeeping Monument, where a bronzed soldier regards me through binoculars. I can now stroll alongside the wide, Parisian-like sidewalk that borders Major’s Hill Park, named for a major named Bolton who took over after Colonel By. The park once hosted the blooming tulip festival celebration, and now only gets musical enhancement on Canada Day, which is a pity.
At the risk of repeating myself, an annual Welcome To Ottawa festival should be held here for that year’s newcomers, despite the NCC actually being the park’s overlords.
All too soon I’m back at the frenetic intersection of Rideau and Mackenzie.
I think I’ll head back to the park.