The Idea of renewal is one that manifests itself sporatically in the schemes of our towns and cities. In the history of Halifax, renewal landmarks dot the landscape as well as the psyche of haligonians. Several events have, very abruptly, shifted the paths of urbaniztion in the city throughout its surprisingly sinuous history. The instance I point out in the above photos is one that remains today very prevalent: the Cogswell Interchange. Although unianimously condemned by the mostly left-leaning inhabitants of “peninsular” halifax as an almost hubristic urban experiment, little is brought to its defense by either municipal government or general users. If you commute to the downtown area, you likely drive the airborne concrete crescent every day. And there are indeed thousands that do just that.
That said, reports have stated that the piece of infrastructure’s use remains dramatically shy of even nominal capacity. To make matters worse, recent failures in similarly old (circa 1960ish) structures across the country point to an increased liability of its mere existence.
Then theres the “intangibles”. The space occupied by the ramps, inset roadway, grassy humps and sidewalks is shockingly out of scale with the city’s downtown as a whole. The city once posited that a new stadium could be built within the interchange’s footprint and still leave room for acceptable street traffic.
The space does conjure many thoughts of renewal itself, ironically. What would we replace it with, faced with the decision? How does one stich together the urban fabric of a city that has been severed in such a way?
While I see the potential for such a well-placed parcel of land, I am also unconvinced that the area can so quickly bounce back from its former car-catering livelihood. Even as the interchange sits under-used and maligned, its psycological effect on the denizens of the city are perhaps surprisingly consequential. We see the bunker-like walls as a blithe, but to a generation they are an urban reality. We tie this structure to our memories, our perception of the city. Not that removing the interchange would make such difference in practical terms. It is what inhabits this space post-interchange that will bear the weight of its ghost.
Would I sit at a cafe on the corner of Cogswell and Barrington streets, and get a bad taste in my mouth? Would the wind still blow as strong through a neighborhood implanted in its wake? What would it smell like? (sewage plant aside) Every move the city has made since the inauguration of interchange has further entrenched the site in its purpose. The gulf between the residential and commercial areas South and West of the road and the dockyards, parkades and, yes, sewage treatment plants North and East, has steadily widened.
Let us not destroy the bridge without first figuring out how to bridge the gap.

W

This was a side project during my first year at architecture school, of which I only recently found photos. The float almost won us the Chronicle Herald’s Float of the Year [or something to that effect], had it not been for the Shriners and their sweet mini cars.

perks to living near the ocean