Montreal Heritage: A History of Wins & Losses

I recently spoke to you about the urban planning fiascos avoided by Montreal, like this 300-meter tower fantasized by Jean Drapeau on Mount Royal.

My column made you react a lot. The protection of heritage touches a sensitive chord, there is no doubt about it¹.

The metropolis has had a narrow escape more than once. But she also suffered immeasurable losses, which still scandalize many. The uncertain fate of other historic jewels also worries you.

One of the most burning issues, in every sense of the word, is that of the monastery of the Good Shepherd. The imposing religious complex on rue Sherbrooke Est was largely ravaged by flames in May 2023.

The 1846 structure still stands. Plastered and charred. But the repair work, which amounts to tens of millions, has been at a standstill for two and a half years.

The issue here goes beyond bricks and mortar.

The building housed housing cooperatives, bringing together approximately 90 tenants, community organizations and a concert hall. Between the lawsuits and other disputes with the City, the reconstruction project is blocked.

“The building must be restored to its original condition as quickly as possible to prevent it from further deterioration,” one reader pointed out to me.

Rightly so.

Another reader shared his thoughts with me on a more contemporary element of our heritage: the metro. The great “disaster” for Montreal, according to him, was to interrupt its expansion for many years.

The network experienced growth spurts in the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s. But from 1988 to 2007: nothing. And again, the latest extension only has three stations in Laval.

“I can’t imagine what our city would have become if we had continually opened one metro station per year,” he wrote.

He is 100% right. Imagine if the green line had been extended eastwards, little by little, between Place Versailles and the tip of the island? The psychodramas of the “REM de l’Est”, then of the hypothetical 19 billion tramway, would have been avoided.

Many large cities are continually expanding their metros: this is nothing new. This strategy allows costs to be spread over time. To better manage development around new stations.

Another benefit of this practice: the bill is less shocking when governments finally stretch themselves, as we see with the current extension of the blue line. The site has vegetated so much that its bill jumped to 7.6 billion for five stations…

The disappearance of certain urban icons, denounced by some, on the contrary delights other citizens. For example: the access ramp to the former Carrières incinerator, in Rosemont.

The Héritage Montréal organization deplores its imminent dismantling, revealed by The Press². But a reader would rather like the entire industrial work to pass under the demolitionists’ peak.

In the same area, a reader deplores the explosion in the number of graffiti on the former Van Horne warehouse, vacant for years and mired in a magma of citizen consultations.

A scourge that we observe everywhere else in the city, and which often has nothing artistic…

“Why is there no graffiti in downtown Ottawa or Brussels? The penalties are severe, and the measures are immediate, he explains. In Brussels, a squad erases the graffiti in the hours following the crime. Enough to discourage graffiti artists who waste their paint for nothing. »

The new Martinez Ferrada administration should take notes.

On a more positive note, Montreal has several lesser-known, but no less spectacular, heritage successes.

A reader reminded me of this feat performed in Old Montreal: the restoration of the Ernest-Cormier building. A Beaux-Arts-influenced splendor completed in 1926, which served as a set for a number of American films.

The building experienced a period of uncertainty in the early 2000s. Many heritage lovers were worried about the fate of the old courthouse.

The affair turned out well. The building was carefully renovated to house the Quebec Court of Appeal – a return to basics, if you will.

It was judge Michel Robert, passionate about architecture, who oversaw the rebirth of this building “in a pitiful state”, she specifies.

The project cost Quebec $59 million, or 25% more than expected. But the result, “the fruit of the hard work of several people”, is to match.

We can still see it today: many of the urban planning errors of the 1960s and 1970s are being repaired, or deserve to be.

The “Faubourg à m’lasse”, demolished to make way for the immense parking lots of the Radio-Canada tower, is in the process of reinventing itself to make way for thousands of housing units and offices.

The Ville-Marie highway, in trenches, was covered in pieces. First by the head office of La Caisse, then by the Place des Montréalaises. Only two sections remain to be covered, east of the Palais des Congrès, to erase this scar.

The Pins interchange, at the foot of Mount Royal, was dismantled around twenty years ago. This spaghetti of concrete ramps has been transformed into an urban boulevard, completely navigable for motorists, and safer for pedestrians.

Better yet: this transformation was able to highlight the surroundings of the mountain, near the Percival-Molson stadium. Who would want to go back?

1. Read the column “Disasters avoided by Montreal”

2. Read the article “Part of the Carrières incinerator will be demolished”