Granville Island plan lacks clout
Granville Island was one bold, big idea. Never before had industrial land been reclaimed as public space with a food market as a centrepiece.
It gave birth to a foodie culture and sparked imitators all over the place.
Anyone hoping for something similar in the 2040 reboot will be disappointed. The plan, called Granville Island 2040: Bridging Past and Future, has two big ideas. As the report’s name suggests, both focus on making it easier to get to Granville Island.
The first is an elevator from the Granville Street Bridge to the island, which the report promises “will become a destination in itself.” The plan would have visitors landing in the middle of the island close to what are now covered parking lots and what is envisioned as a Central Plaza.
The second big idea is a pedestrian/cycling bridge linking the island and the False Creek seawall that would “add an iconic urban design element to the island, which would attract new visitors.”
What the plan lacks is a grand idea for what will soon be the island’s big, black hole — the two buildings occupied by Emily Carr University. It’s surprising since the impetus for the 23-year plan is the departure of Emily Carr University, which will free up the equivalent of a quarter of the island’s available space — nearly 200,000 square feet.
It offers a once-in-a-generation opportunity to do something to once again separate Granville Island from its imitators and competitors and establish something unique that would complement the Public Market.
With increasing competition for the Public Market from upscale supermarkets, farmers’ markets and specialty malls, what happens in that space — for better or worse — is inextricably linked to the island’s future.
Those malls and stores, of course, don’t have a marina, boat yard, concrete plant and a plethora of arts organizations, artisans and makers.
Still, the 2040 plan’s focus remains largely on the market and expanding it by as much as 20 per cent with a second-floor addition and the integration of space vacated by the Revue Stage. Some adjacent buildings would be rebuilt or repurposed (i.e. the Net Loft) to include more food and foodie experiences, while the waterfront area behind the market would become platforms for performances and possibly even swimming (assuming the E. coli levels that have recently risen rapidly can be brought under control).
But what about the university space, you might ask? Nothing will happen in the short term, it says, beyond reusing the space with minimal alterations “until such time as the final uses, design and financing is confirmed.”
The South Building would be reserved for some unspecified “institutional use.” The North Building would be called the Hub and used for a mix of artists, makers, inventors and new ventures (interior and urban design, media arts, animation are some of the suggestions).
Having essentially kicked the issue down the road for some unspecified length of time, the plan rushes on to describe how an existing parking lot will be transformed into a 700-seat, covered performance space with rehearsal rooms and studios for artists and performance companies.
On the wish list, there’s also a First Nations Cultural Centre (it’s not clear whether this might be considered an “institutional use” appropriate to the university’s South Building), which might have art exhibitions, food, programs on First Nations history, culture or food or maybe environmental programs, “entrepreneurial and social enterprise opportunities” and maybe skills training. The plan makes no reference to how this might be financed or by whom.
In fact, money is the second big piece missing in the plan.
Granville Island has none beyond what it generates for itself through rentals. It is administered through the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation by public servants with no mandate to do anything beyond their bosses’ bidding.
It also has no champion. The local advisory board has no power and no powerful minister in the federal government has taken a proprietary interest in the island and its future.
Granville Island only happened because of local ideas, local people with influence in Ottawa and a small initial infusion of money.
Granville Island’s unprecedented success was the reward for the faith shown in local innovators who dared to believe that if they built it people would come.
An elevator might be great and grafting it on to the side of the bridge certainly seems quite daring. But sadly, there’s nothing in this report to suggest anyone has the vision yet to take this extraordinary opportunity and turn the giant, gaping hole left by Emily Carr and its students into something unforgettable.