Gooderham Building

Stand at the corner where Front Street and Wellington Street come together. The two roads meet at a sharp angle. Right at the point where they cross sits a building shaped like the bow of a ship. Its red brick glows warm in the afternoon light. Cars and streetcars curve around it on both sides. This is the Gooderham Building, one of the oldest landmarks still standing here.

People often call it the Flatiron Building of Toronto. It earned the name from its narrow wedge shape. The front of the building tapers to a rounded edge. A small round tower rises at that point. Its roof is copper, and the copper has aged to a soft green. From here, the whole building seems to sail toward you, slow and steady.

It was finished in 1892. The work was ordered by George Gooderham, a wealthy businessman. His family ran a large distillery in the city, called Gooderham and Worts. For years this building served as the head office of that company. From these rooms, Gooderham managed one of the biggest businesses in the country. At the time, it was among the tallest buildings around.

The architect was David Roberts Junior. He had worked for the Gooderham family before. He shaped the building to fit the odd triangle of land left between the two streets. Rather than fight the shape, he used it. The result is a building that feels both solid and graceful. Every line seems to point toward that rounded front.

Look up at the walls. The brick is a deep red. Bands of pale stone wrap around the floors. The windows are arched at the top, set in neat rows that climb five storeys. Near the roof, a row of small carved supports holds up the edge. The style borrows from old European forms. It feels a little like a castle, and a little like a French country house.

The Gooderham Building is often compared to the Flatiron Building in New York. But here is a small surprise. Toronto's wedge came first. It was built about ten years before the famous one in Manhattan. So this quiet corner held the idea before the larger city made it known. Locals are quietly proud of that fact.

Now walk around to the back of the building, on the west side. There you will find a large painting on the flat rear wall. It was made in 1980 by the artist Derek Besant. The painting copies the front of the old building across the street. The painted windows seem to lift and curl, as if the whole wall were a loose sheet of paper caught in the wind.

This kind of painting is called trompe l'oeil. The words are French. They mean a trick of the eye. Stand at the right spot, and for a moment the flat wall seems to fold and move. The effect is strongest in soft, even light. Many people walk past without noticing. Those who stop are often caught off guard, then they smile.

Around you, the streets of this part of town are full of old warehouses and banks. Many have been cleaned and put to new use. The Gooderham Building sits among them like an elder. Streetcars pass close by. Their wires hum overhead. Their bells ring at the corner. The sound mixes with footsteps on the wide stone sidewalks.

In the evening, the building is one of the most photographed sights in the city. Cameras gather on the small island of pavement across the street. From there, the old tower lines up against the glass towers behind it. Old and new stand together in one frame. The red brick looks even warmer against the cool grey glass. At sunset, the windows catch the last of the light.

The lower floor has held a restaurant and shops over the years. The upper floors hold offices. The inside is narrow, as you might expect. Some rooms come to a near point at the front. Working there must feel like standing inside the prow of a ship, with the city flowing past on either hand. The ceilings are high, and the old windows let in long bars of light.

Take one more look before you go. A building like this was made for a city that no longer fully exists. The distillery is gone. The streets have changed around it. Yet the wedge still holds its corner, calm and sure. It has watched the city grow taller on every side. And it remains, pointing the way it always has.