Pink concrete & Parliament
The replacement of granite with painted concrete epitomizes a cheap and narrow vision, writes ANDREW COHEN.
Andrew Cohen walks Ottawa’s boulevard of shame,
It should come as no surprise to learn that the National Capital Commission is digging up pink granite paving stones on Ottawa’s “Confederation Boulevard” and replacing them with pinkpainted concrete.
The pink granite, which was installed on the capital’s ceremonial mile in the 1990s, is now called expensive and impractical. The Citizen reports that the authentic stuff “cost a lot of money” and is no longer “value for money.” So, the NCC has decided to “standardize” the materials, substituting concrete for granite everywhere.
Put differently, the story here is that we had planned a distinctive and elegant grand thoroughfare in the nation’s capital, as other countries do in their capitals. We embroidered it with distinctive Canadian granite.
Then we got cheap. But we don’t like to admit that, so we say that granite isn’t good value because it isn’t as durable as concrete, which makes it eminently sensible to replace. Then, to level the playing field (or “standardize”), we use the painted concrete everywhere, ensuring that whole thoroughfare looks tacky.
Behold, the ersatz avenue in the ersatz capital.
Isn’t that what Ottawa is? A toy capital pretending to be a real one? A Potemkin Village of buildings that are ugly, empty or broken? A sleepy, self-satisfied place?
Let us forget, for a moment, a municipal government that can only do things the cheapest way. From libraries (it refuses to build a new main branch,) to light rail (it declines to put a station in Confederation Square) to Lansdowne Park (it cancels an international design competition,) it is unfailingly timid. It makes Ottawa a city with no idea of itself.
Instead, consider how the federal government, in its own right, has made Ottawa an illusion. On Ersatz Avenue, you will find Library and Archives Canada, which is in disrepair; the former U.S. Embassy, which was to become the National Portrait Gallery; the Government Conference Centre, which was to house a history museum; the National Arts Centre, which looks like a Stalinist detention centre. All need attention.
On Sussex Drive, the former home of the Canadian War Museum sits empty, awaiting the Aga Khan’s Global Centre for Pluralism, which was announced eight years ago. The Canada and the World Pavilion is also empty, and 24 Sussex Drive is crumbling. It needs $10 million in repairs.
Like his predecessors, Stephen Harper will not renovate the prime minister’s official residence because that costs too much. It is suitable “to his needs,” says his spokesman. The trouble is that this isn’t about his needs because it isn’t his house. It is the nation’s house.
Harper’s indifference to the condition of 24 Sussex reflects his view of Ottawa as a national capital. He is fine if it is ugly, crumbling or antiquated. In Paris, London, Washington and other capitals, governments are proud to create national showcases. John F. Kennedy, for example, saved Lafayette Square and restored Pennsylvania Avenue. Georges Pompidou and François Mitterrand reshaped Paris.
In the past, prime ministers have taken a real interest in Ottawa. This one has not.
In the world’s second largest country, defined by its wilderness, the Canadian Museum of Nature underwhelms. In a country that embraces science, the Canada Science and Technology Museum occupies a former bakery. Both fall short.
Repair the Parliament Buildings and replace the leaking glass in the National Gallery of Canada. Recast the Canadian Museum of Civilization. Build a Holocaust Monument. All good, but not good enough.
Why not think small? After all, who cares about Ottawa in Edmonton, Victoria or Montreal?
It may be that we have stopped thinking of Ottawa as a capital in anything but name. The seat of government is here, of course, as are lobbyists, diplomats and journalists. Beyond that, though, the national government has stopped creating the national institutions — museums, monuments, memorials, galleries, parks — that make a capital a repository of national achievement and a reflection of national ambition.
In designating the Canadian Museum for Human Rights in Winnipeg and Pier 21 in Halifax as national museums, in refusing to build anything new of importance in Ottawa, the government has embraced a new spirit of devolution. It isn’t about powers but patriotism. It is about celebrating the regions while diminishing the capital.
Other countries have more than one capital; they designate administrative, judicial and legislative capitals. South Africa has Pretoria, Bloemfontein and Cape Town. Bolivia has Sucre and La Paz. Or, they make their capitals wholly about government, such as Brasilia or Canberra, knowing the action is in Sao Paulo and Rio, or in Melbourne and Sydney.
By accident or by design, we are doing that here. Ottawa is a political capital, period. And while it has always been that, up to a point, it is even truer today that anything interesting in Canada — cultural, historical, intellectual, artistic — happens elsewhere.
In 2013, Ottawa is a capital of illusion.