Photo credit: Matthew Mohtadi (1L)
Every year, thousands of tourists descend upon U of T to admire and capture its architectural beauty. There is, however, nothing to admire about the Jackman Law Building and nothing worth capturing about it either. On a campus filled with some of the most stunning architecture in the city, the Jackman Law Building, in the most civil way I can put it, sucks.
Let’s begin with the outside: the merciless and monotonous march of rectangular columns—which look anemic in comparison to the stunning columns that adorn Flavelle—is boring and unimaginative.
If Robarts is a giant concrete peacock, then Jackman is a concrete rectangle lined with tank tread. And what’s with all the thin grey lines on the windows all over the building? Did the architects have a vendetta against unobstructed glass? Are they trying to prevent people from seeing inside the building? If it’s because of the latter, the building’s aesthetics are more than enough to deter onlookers from gazing at Jackman for more than a couple of seconds.
To misquote a U of T professor with impeccable taste and an unparalleled knowledge of property, “the Jackman Law Building is an unsightly sight that dwarfs an elegant and historic mansion”. The Fontainebleau Hotel Corporation would be proud.
Jackman isn’t just ugly on the outside: if it’s what’s on the inside that counts, then Jackman doesn’t count for much.
At a time when promoting diversity in the legal profession is more important than ever, it’s remarkable that the interior of the Jackman Law Building manages to be so white. It’s aesthetically and substantively akin to Wonder Bread. Even Professor Phillips’s wardrobe is more colourful. Perhaps the architects, knowing the stress of law school, went in this direction to create an environment that evoked feelings of serenity and calmness similar to a stereotypical vision of heaven.
Unfortunately, Jackman is overrun with grey chairs, grey floors (which are riddled with stains and cracks), grey lockers, grey walls, grey carpets, and a giant grey rock climbing wall. Surprisingly absent in the library is the worst best selling novel that evidently inspired this aesthetic. The cumulative effect of the architect’s bizarre fascination with the colour grey compounds, rather than alleviates, the stress law students experience.
Another reason for Jackman’s drab and dreary nature is the lack of art. Art in Jackman is rarer than finding an inch of space in Jackman that hasn’t been sponsored by a law firm (by the way: law firms, if you’re reading this, there are a bunch of water fountains, bathrooms, staircases, and garbage cans that no one has claimed yet).
The law school has recently taken steps to resolve the “oh art, where art thou” issue by acquiring two big and bold pieces of Indigenous art. More importantly, the artwork celebrates and establishes the importance of Indigenous culture. The few steps that the school has taken to further these objectives suggests that the money for doing so has been allocated to more pressing needs, such as supplying students with a never-ending stream of “cardboardesque” tasting pizza. Perhaps law firms could pick up the slack and donate art that they haven’t hung up.
Jackman’s most egregious failure is the atrium. Walking into the atrium from the University Avenue entrance and seeing its soaring heights should be a sight to behold. Instead, the first thing you are several random pillars obscuring the view. Where is Sampson when you need him?
The Philosopher’s Walk entrance is even more embarrassing; you’re literally walking into a wall. I’ve already dealt with the rock climbing wall (why don’t we have a rock climbing club?), but not the fireplace in it. It’s so pathetic that I hesitate to call it a fireplace.
Seriously, what’s the point? It’s smaller than Stuart Little and runs as often as I did over the summer when I had pneumonia. It’s not even aligned correctly! Word on the street is that students with OCD plan to file a class action lawsuit on the basis that the misalignment violates their s. 12 Charter rights against cruel and unusual punishment—just don’t tell them about McKinney v University of Guelph.
The only saving grace is the Bora Laskin Law Library, particularly Torys (praise be) Hall. The views of Philosopher’s Walk and Trinity College, two of U of T’s most stunning features, provide a desperately needed respite from the rest of the building. It even has some nice art!
Even so, the view is severely hindered by giant columns every two feet; I suppose the architects really do have a vendetta against unobstructed glass. The only advantage is that they shield our eyes from the unbearable aura of WASPiness emanating from Trinity College.
In awarding the Jackman Law Building a 2013 Canadian Architect Award of Excellence—an award surely given out with the same frequency as participation medals—one juror, clearly under duress, suggested that the Jackman Law Building will be “…a landmark building on campus.”
The building will undoubtedly serve as a landmark: a landmark example of poor architecture. Having failed to “create a law school among the finest in the world,” it is only appropriate that the executive architect, B+H Architects rename themselves to B+LP Architects. Because the Honourable Hal Jackman doesn’t deserve to be associated with such an utter disappointment, I propose that the building be renamed to the Diamond & Diamond Law Building. If that’s not possible, Diamond & Diamond should sponsor a toilet.
