A glasshouse half empty

Christopher Hume –

 Appearances notwithstanding, history has not always been kind to Allan Gardens.

Though the park’s historic complex of glasshouses remains a wonder to behold, the recently completed $11-million, three-year refurbishment of the Palm House, the ensemble’s architec­tural gem, is, to be blunt, under­whelming, even disappointing.

Where once it overflowed with flowers and plants, the elegant domed structure now feels empty and unfinished. The vegetation has been removed to make room for a new “event space,” a rental venue that must accommodate everything from weddings and receptions to lec­tures and meetings.

Fortunately, big changes are in the works; more plants and tables and chairs as well as flow­er-pots-on-wheels are on their way. But as Matt Canaran, exec­utive director of Friends of Al­lan Gardens, rightly points out, “We need some sort of gathering space, a space to build commu­nity and create community con­nections.”

No doubt about that, or the fact that the dome is also an obvious spot for a café or per­haps a shop. Either or both would be a perfect complement to a day at the conservatory. Certainly, they would make the absence of vegetation less jar­ring. For the moment, however, the unavoidable impression is that something’s missing.

To be fair, the Palm House re­furbishments have transformed what was a scruffy 115-year-old building into a 21st-century marvel. Changes include 1,200 specially prepared glass panes – each unique – that comprise the dome, a mercifully quiet HVAC system, refurbished metal and wood detailing, and a meticu­lously rebuilt entrance based on the original design.

Zeidler Architects, who with HRI heritage consultants and Architects Rasch Eckler Asso­ciates handled the restoration, deserve our thanks. Returned to its Edwardian glory, the Palm House is renewed in every way. If ever a building could be called affable, this is it.

Toronto’s first horticultural pavilion, built in the same lo­cation in 1864, was too small to keep up with demand and was demolished after just 14 years. Inspired by the Crystal Palace in London, its replacement was a local attraction until it burnt down in 1901. After that came the current structure, which opened in 1910.

Almost from their beginning in Britain during the 1840s, these conservatories quick­ly became popular around the world. London’s Crystal Palace, constructed for the Great Ex­hibition of 1851, was the most spectacular glasshouse of them all. It led to a “horticultural hys­teria” that changed domestic life for those with the means. As Catherine Horwood wrote in her 2020 book, Potted His­tory: How House Plants Took Over Our Homes, many mid­dle-class families “were seized by a green-fingered fervour in their attempts to out-plant their next-door neighbours.”

In addition to their passion for flora – the more exotic the more desirable – the Victorians saw “gardens under glass” as an es­cape, however fleeting, from the stifling conformity of domestic life. These happily cluttered en­vironments offered an opportu­nity to get close to nature while remaining far enough away not to worry about its darker side.

Where better to exchange meaningful glances, hold inti­mate conversations or flirt out­rageously than these floriferous confines? Contemporary artists from James Tissot to Edouard Manet painted sly canvases de­picting the comings-and-goings, the to-ing and fro-ing unfolding in these leafy haunts.

Almost as exciting was the steady stream of plants previ­ously unknown to Europeans. Plant hunters, professional and amateur, scoured the forests of Asia and beyond in a mad search for vegetal novelties.

In the age of climate change, the glasshouse provides a record of a world that can no longer be taken for granted, one that is fast disappearing. It’s no sur­prise that some of the specimens in London’s 250-year-old Kew Gardens are threatened in their native habitat or, worse still, al­ready extirpated.

In the 21st century, Toronto’s Palm House may serve most usefully as a source of inspira­tion and a reminder of what the plants we keep in pots look like in their “natural” environment. Though the beds were not part of the restoration, they have been cleaned up and look better than ever. Ranging from cacti and succulents to tropical and temperate zone flora, the con­tents cover a lot of ground.

As Canaran also makes clear, plans for the complex include “a whole bunch of new greenhous­es.” The Friends are actively exploring funding sources that could dramatically change the organization’s future. It’s still too early to talk about publicly, but make no mistake, the best is yet to come.