Really, it's OK to like Calgary
Boosterism eases in city exploring its potential
Todd Babiak, The Edmonton Journal
Published: Tuesday, June 12, 2007
A young man in a white muscle shirt, giant sunglasses and a baseball cap floats silently down the Elbow River. He has a burning cigarette in one hand and a can of Kokanee in the other.
His baby blue dinghy is of the cheap Canadian Tire blow-up variety, with cartoon dolphins. He passes under the bridge and another dinghy appears upriver, this one carrying two young men. One is talking excitedly on a cellular phone, about dinner.
Elbow Drive is already crowded with convertibles, driven by the lucky ones who sneaked away early.
In lovely old neighbourhoods such as Kensington, above, Calgary feels remarkably similar to Edmonton.
Twenty blocks north, in the shiny office towers, the day's last few theoretical millions are being sucked out of Alberta's crust. On the banks of the river, not far from a cluster of hungry geese, three destitute men lie in the grass with their eyes closed, their two overflowing shopping carts parked in the shade of an elm tree.
This must mean something.
For more than 100 years, Edmontonians and Calgarians have become experts in making superficial observations and ridiculous judgments about each other. The rivalry between the cities, as fun as it can be in its sporting incarnation, has become tired and pathetic.
Calgarians see what they want to see in Edmonton, and vice-versa. Usually it's something doleful, which makes everyone feel better about their own hometowns and ultimately prevents them from engaging in a healthy dialogue about the possibility of urban renewal in Alberta. It also prevents them from travelling to each other's cities, just for fun.
For an Edmontonian to admit that Calgary's downtown is more attractive, its restaurants more elegant, that its zoo is amazing and its view of the Rockies enviable, would be an admission of failure.
Why?
The truth is, Edmonton and Calgary are both extraordinary and frustrating boomtowns of one million people, both ugly and pretty, both rich and poor, both redneck and sophisticated, separated by 275 kilometres.
An Edmontonian in Calgary can't help noticing that once you're in the core, in the lovely historic neighbourhoods north and south of downtown, the cities even feel remarkably similar.
Of course, there are fundamental cultural differences. Irony, neurosis and even self-loathing are stitched into the great bosom of Edmonton. Calgary, by contrast, has a marketable cowboy theme and a spanky slogan in Heart of the New West.
Without passing any city ordinances or doping the water supply, it has become perfectly acceptable to claim that Calgary has the best theatre scene, the best wine merchants, the best opera, the best restaurants, the best blue jeans, the best buskers, the best cupcakes and the best-looking people on Earth.
Calgarians point out the new German imports on their streets with a tone of astonished pride, as though every new millionaire were a shared success. It's not possible to get through a day without hearing that building cranes are "the official bird of Calgary."
Bad traffic, horrible service and wacky real estate prices have become folk tales, proof that Calgary is a big city now, even when it all doesn't seem nearly so extreme when you're actually on Memorial Drive or looking at a house in Kensington.
But something new and exciting and distinct is happening in Calgary today.
Aggressive boosterism is on the wane, along with the city's automatic tendency to vote against its interests in a block with rural Alberta. Real Calgarians, the ones who aim to stay after the boom, sense an opportunity that reaches beyond personal wealth. They're testing what they mean by "world class."
Since November, a retired oil executive named David Matthews has been holding informal lunch-hour think-tanks at La Chaumiere, a classic French restaurant on 17th Avenue.
Matthews goes through the newspaper and the phone book, and invites smart and influential people -- politicians and writers and business leaders, academics and architects and planners.
"I do sometimes think: what am I doing in this city?" he says, with a hint of a British accent, during one of his pleasant mini-salons. "Especially after having been to Europe on vacation, say.
"But the place grows on me. The city has so much potential, enormous potential, but we keep screwing it up. We need to get beyond roads and interchanges and potholes and garbage."
Matthews hopes the think-tank will transform into action at the end of June, to help elect a "few visionaries" to city council in October. He says people sometimes accuse him of being insane, as he always pays the bill at the end of the meal. "Calgary's been very good to me, and I'd like to give something back," he says. "I think we can make a very special town of this."
One of Matthew's regular guests is Bob van Wegen, a soft-spoken community activist and board member of the Calgary Heritage Initiative. He laments Calgary's No. 1 challenge, that too many people come to the city hoping to make a pile of dough and leave.
"They aren't necessarily coming here for an urban experience," he says. "They'll arrive from rural places in Saskatchewan or the Maritimes, or from similar cities like Dallas or Houston, and they're happy to buy a ranch house in the 'burbs. And a lot of people, even lifelong Calgarians, are attracted to the natural but not the physical environment.
"Why do you live in Calgary? To be close to the mountains."
This is vexing to a growing number of Calgarians focused on planning and sustainability and architecture and the arts. The constantly expanding fringes of the city suck money and energy from the city, as a reality and as a concept, and prevent Calgarians from engaging in a meaningful way with Calgary.
"Summer weekends in Kensington are the worst time of the year for the locals," says Marcello di Cintio, an award-winning travel writer who grew up in Calgary and remains here. "The tourists from the suburbs are in to see what a real neighbourhood looks like."
Di Cintio is part of a bright new generation of writers and thinkers desperate to rethink and remake Calgary, to discover what they love best about the city -- neighbourhood funk, puppet theatre, a spirit of experimentation, sandstone -- and explode it.
Not that there isn't momentum to go along with the constructive criticism. One of the greatest urban developments in recent Canadian history, Garrison Woods, transformed an abandoned army barracks into a central village of condominiums, brownstone-style townhomes, duplexes and houses.
On June 1, the city unfurled its plans for a brave and transformative 14-block downtown cultural district.
Kensington, Inglewood, Bridgeland and other inner-city neighbourhoods provide dense, colourful, authentic and tree-lined alternatives to freeways, manicured lawns and vinyl siding.
The Bow, a spectacular office tower to be built by EnCana, has sparked a renewed interest in downtown and the ways in which an architectural project can represent the hopes and dreams and shifting identity of a city and its people.
On their dinghys, the young men float through Calgary-Elbow, Ralph Klein's former riding, adjacent to the Mercedes convertibles and the men who live out of shopping carts. Today's byelection in the riding could be a political catalyst in the city's social, cultural and physical transformation. Or not.
Either way, for the first time in a generation, Calgary is fully awake to its potential. Edmontonians must stop skipping the city on their way to Kananaskis and Banff.
Really, it's OK to love Calgary.
tbabiak@thejournal.canwest.com
- - -
Get More
Go to
www.edmontonjournal.com for Todd's audio slideshow of Calgary, Calgary Herald columnist Val Fortney's column on Edmonton, and a reader poll.
© The Edmonton Journal 2007
If Calgary's a victim of anything, it's a victim of its own success
Bronconnier's whine about Stelmach convincing as Paris Hilton's rehab
Gary Lamphier, The Edmonton Journal
Published: Tuesday, June 12, 2007
I've never resented Calgary's oil and gas riches. In fact, I've long admired the city's swagger and entrepreneurial smarts.
When it comes to civic boosterism and urban myth-making, there's much that Edmonton -- and its myopic municipal neighbours -- could learn from their supremely confident cousin to the south.
But Calgary Mayor Dave Bronconnier's self-serving campaign to portray Alberta's wealthiest city as a poor, downtrodden victim of the unfeeling, uncaring Stelmach government is something straight out of a Monty Python flick.
I mean, c'mon. Calgary as victim? You're kidding, right? Are we talking about the same Calgary that effectively ran the premier's office in this province for 28 of the past 36 years, and 13 of the past 14?
Now that's rich. Only a flak for (boo hoo) Paris Hilton could come up with spin like that. Or a southern Alberta Liberal mayor in a province run by a northern Alberta Tory premier on the eve of two provincial by-elections.
Last time I checked, Alberta's biggest city had more newly minted millionaires than any city in Canada. More than a quarter of Canada's 100 best-paid CEOs live in Calgary, home to just three per cent of the nation's population.
Suncor CEO Rick George alone pocketed $15.5 million in 2006, topping the combined incomes of Edmonton's eight best-paid corporate bosses.
As the breathless national press has told us time and again, Calgary is a city where Ferraris, Lamborghinis and Maseratis adorn the driveways of million-dollar homes, and where every self-respecting, thirtysomething oilpatch VP owns a half-million-dollar ski pad in Canmore.
A Calgary analyst I know told me last year there were 10,000-plus brokerage house accounts in his city with assets of $1 million or more. That's roughly one for every 100 Calgarians.
Sales of Calgary homes worth $1 million or more soared nearly 40 per cent over the past year, according to a city realtor. Average prices for single-detached homes are now approaching half a million bucks.
Median household incomes and economic growth rates in Calgary have ranked at or among the highest in Canada for years. Unemployment levels are usually the lowest for any major city.
Sales of high-end condos are so hot that one new project located near Calgary Tower -- with units priced from $840,000 to $3.5 million -- recently sold out in a single day.
Calgary's LRT system puts Edmonton's to shame. The city's roadways are a pleasure to drive compared to Edmonton's, which look as if they've been riddled with artillery fire by the U.S. Air Force.
Calgary sprouts shiny new office towers the way Edmonton sprouts ugly graffiti. EnCana vows that its new monument to itself will rank as the tallest, most grandiose office tower in Western Canada.
Edmonton hasn't had a new downtown office tower in, what, 17 years. That's three years before (former Calgary mayor) Ralph Klein became premier.
(Of course, Calgary's favourite son can't be blamed for any of the city's current problems, even if his laissez-faire approach to oilsands development and his hands-off approach to royalties are the two biggest reasons why Calgary is suffering the strains of growth.
Why, Bronconnier even named a city park after King Ralph.)
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah. Calgary, if this is what pain looks like, feel free to spread it around, especially among your neighbours to the north. We could use some of that.
As my colleague Sheila Pratt has noted, despite all evidence to the contrary, Calgarians now seem convinced that dad really does like Edmonton best. As the spin goes, E-town now gets more of everything from Stelmach's Tories, including more dough for city projects.
Forget that the proposed $200-million remake of Edmonton's Royal Alberta Museum has been delayed, or that NAIT's expansion plans got the snub, or that plans for a redesign of Edmonton's legislature precinct were ditched.
And forget the fact that Calgary actually has more cabinet ministers (three) than Edmonton, which has just one. No matter.
Calgary is now a victim. That's the new mantra. The proof? Seems that uncaring, unfeeling Stelmach and his (largely rural, unsophisticated) cronies attached unwanted strings to the $1.4 billion in annual infrastructure funding for Alberta's towns and cities, including Calgary.
It's so wrong. So insensitive to Calgary's special needs. This has to end.
Well, you get the picture. The Calgary tribe, my friends, has spoken. It's clear how this episode of Survivor will end. Ed, your days on this island are numbered.
Todd Hirsch has a new gig. The erudite former chief economist at Canada West Foundation is now a senior economist with Edmonton-based ATB Financial, the province's largest homegrown bank.
In his new role, Hirsch will speak for ATB on provincial and national economic issues. He'll continue to be based in Calgary.
glamphier@thejournal.canwest.com
© The Edmonton Journal 2007
Edmonton and Calgary: Alberta's two solitudes
Edmonton and Calgary: Alberta's two solitudes
After decades of bitter rivalry, more unites than divides the two urban centres
Todd Babiak, The Edmonton Journal
Published: Tuesday, June 12, 2007
The rivalry between Edmonton and Calgary is dead. We're a corridor now, an economic zone -- the second-richest in the world, after Luxembourg, apparently.
Hockey will always be hockey, but old stereotypes have faded: Edmonton has grown in financial power while Calgary has become more of a cultural centre.
Yet we don't know each other. As urban explorers, Edmontonians and Calgarians are bound by a preference for Vancouver, New York or Paris. It's easier to rely on old-fashioned biases than to arrive at an accurate representation of our sister city. As Vladimir Lenin, never a philosophical icon in these parts, said, "A lie told often enough becomes the truth."
The relationship between Edmonton and Calgary, during the post-Lougheed era, was a mess of true lies. Crawling out of a recession into our current state of overheated madness came with plenty of civic character assassination.
Now that we're in a post-post-Lougheed era, with desperate growth issues leading the two cities and their citizens into a political, economic and cultural bloc, a place called Urban Alberta, it's time to peer between the truths and the lies.
"There's a real desire in this community to demonstrate a new look," says Bob McPhee, general director and CEO of the nationally acclaimed Calgary Opera, and a former Edmontonian. "It's more than just cowboys."
After all, the Stampede lasts for only 10 days. The core of Calgary, like the core of Edmonton, is a beautiful and diverse and increasingly cosmopolitan place -- especially in the summertime. And Calgary is moving out of its time of triumphalism into a much more thoughtful, and realistic, phase of physical and cultural growth.
tbabiak@thejournal.canwest.com
A TALE OF TWO CITIES
Today, we start a six-part series with the Calgary Herald as writers from both newspapers swap cities for a day.
Edmonton and Calgary have grown in size and sophistication, especially in the past couple of years, and in this joint project we'll give our readers a fresh look at the biggest centres in our booming province.
Today: Columnist Todd Babiak
July 10: City columnist Scott McKeen
Aug. 14: Food writer Judy Schultz
Sept. 11: Sports columnist Dan Barnes
Oct. 9: Culture writer Liz Nicholls
Nov. 13: Business columnist Gary Lamphier
© The Edmonton Journal 2007
Our town as seen by their town
Lesson No. 1: humble Edmontonians shrink from 'world class' status
Val Fortney, Calgary Herald
Published: Tuesday, June 12, 2007
It is a city in the midst of an economic boom, with all the good and bad that entails.
Its population, with a footprint bigger than Toronto or Chicago, has hit the million mark. Jobs are everywhere and people are flocking from all over the country to capitalize on the prosperity. Housing prices are in the stratosphere, homelessness and urban crime are growing problems and a shortage of service workers means you can't get a decent cup of coffee to save your life.
Oh, and everybody's ticked off about all the potholes.
Calgary, you say? Try Edmonton, just 275 kilometres up the QEII.
Ask a random sampling of Calgarians, and they'll variously describe Edmonton as the capital of our province, the city with North America's largest shopping mall and cold winters without the respite of chinooks.
It's a government town, a blue-collar town, a cultural, festival-rich town; and it's a place that some of us in Cowtown love to loathe.
Other than these famed characteristics and a few outmoded stereotypes, how well do we know our urban neighbours to the north? This writer, for one, confesses to a woeful ignorance of the place that once served as a major stopping point on the way to the Klondike Gold Rush.
So I welcomed the opportunity to spend a few days exploring the city's nooks and crannies -- watching a play in the famed Old Strathcona theatre district, enjoying a stroll through the verdant North Saskatchewan River valley, and dining in a handful of its more popular restaurants.
To get to the heart of the Edmontonian character, though, such short-term casual observance must be guided by those who know and love it best, leaders in the community whose work has helped to shape and inform the city's distinct -- albeit hard to uncover -- true character.
So, what's the first lesson you learn when talking to an Edmontonian about what makes the city a great place to live?
Don't dare utter such Calgary-style terms as "world class." Unless, of course, you want to be greeted with a raised eyebrow or a sarcastic chuckle.
"People here aren't really big on boasting," says Holger Peterson as he cuts into a salmon filet at Il Portico, a downtown dining spot that not long ago received a rave review in the New York Times.
"The longtime Edmontonians I know like to keep the city, and its great qualities, a secret."
© The Edmonton Journal 2007
Perfect strangers
Val Fortney, Calgary Herald
Published: Monday, June 11, 2007
Edmonton -
It is a city in the midst of an economic boom, with all the good and bad that entails.
Its population, with a footprint bigger than Toronto or Chicago, has now hit the million mark. Jobs are everywhere and people are flocking from all over the country to capitalize on the prosperity. Housing prices are in the stratosphere, homelessness and urban crime is a growing problem and a shortage of service workers means you can't get a decent cup of coffee to save your life. Oh, and everybody's ticked off about all the potholes.
Ask a random sampling of Calgarians, and they'll variously describe Edmonton as the capital of our province, the city with North America's largest shopping mall and cold winters without the respite of Chinooks. It's a government town, a blue-collar town, a cultural, festival-rich town; and it's a place a few folks in Cowtown love to loathe.
Other than these famed characteristics and a few outmoded stereotypes, how well do we know our urban neighbours to the north? This writer, for one, confesses to a woeful ignorance of the place that once served as a major stopping point on the way to the Klondike Gold Rush.
So I welcomed the opportunity to spend a few days exploring the city's nooks and crannies - watching a play in the famed Old Strathcona theatre district, enjoying a stroll through the verdant North Saskatchewan River valley that bisects the city and dining in a handful of its more popular restaurants.
To get to the heart of the Edmontonian character, though, such short-term casual observance must be aided by those who know and love it best, leaders in the community whose work has helped to shape and inform the city's distinct, albeit hard-to-undercover, true character.
So, what's the first lesson you learn when talking to an Edmontonian about what makes his or her city a great place to live?
Don't dare utter such Calgary-style terms as "world-class." Unless, of course, you want to be greeted with a raised eyebrow or a sarcastic chuckle.
"People here aren't really big on boasting," says Holger Peterson as he cuts into a salmon filet at Il Portico, a downtown dining spot that not long ago received a rave review in the New York Times. Yes, that New York Times.
"The longtime Edmontonians I know like to keep the city, and its great qualities, a secret."
Peterson has lived here since 1958, when he arrived at age eight with his German immigrant parents. He's worked with the radio station CKUA since the 1960s and in 1976 launched his own very successful roots music record label, Stony Plains Records.
The well-travelled Peterson could have based his business anywhere. But he chose Edmonton.
"I just never felt motivated to leave," he says with a shrug of his shoulders.
When prodded, he does eventually begin to articulate what's so special about his city.
"The size works for me, and the river valley is beautiful," says the man who became a Member of the Order of Canada in 2003 for his groundbreaking work on the country's music scene.
"We have cuisine, culture, touring artists - we're not lacking in anything."
Peterson's reticence about waxing euphoric over his city's virtues, I soon discover, is a trait common amongst even the proudest citizens.
Knowing this made interviewing Stewart Lemoine about why he loves this town a much less painful experience than it could have been.
The prolific playwright/director/producer and mainstay of the city's theatre scene sits in a coffee shop looking out on to Whyte Avenue, the funky inner-city strip filled with boutique hotels, chic restaurants and eclectic shops.
"We've been labelled a cultural capital, by someone," says the longtime Edmontonian with a quiet sigh as he refers to his home's designation as Festival City.
"It's nice to have that acknowledged, but no one really knows what that means."
Lemoine, though, is the first to say there's no better place for an artist to live and ply his craft. "It's all about the freedom; I live here because I want to produce plays for myself," he says.
"This city has a great talent pool, and our audience here is incredible."
Lemoine readily admits that Edmonton lacks a clear identity that you can wrap up in a tidy promotional package, but dismisses that as a non-issue.
"People come here and say we're unpretentious because the place is unremarkable," says Lemoine, who in a rare moment of hyperbole likens the river valley to New York's Central Park.
"But we don't worry about our status - we're too busy thinking about other things."
When an Edmontonian does lapse into a brief moment of boastfulness, it's usually about the river valley and the winding North Saskatchewan that weaves its way through the city and its environs.
For Vivian Manasc, it's more than an asset: it's the key symbol of the city's very essence.
"The river valley makes this city so livable," says one of the principals of Manasc-Isaac Architects, a company renowned for its work in sustainable design.
"You can live in the most affluent or the most modest neighbourhood, and still be close to the river valley."
Manasc, a native of Montreal, came to Edmonton in the 1970s and was quickly hooked. "It was boom time, then and now, and so much of what we do is driven by growth," she says.
This isn't to say she doesn't see room for improvement in her city. Like Calgary, she says, Edmonton has an unfortunate history of not respecting its historical buildings; its downtown, she adds, has too many vacant lots and not enough "walkability"; attention to good public architecture hasn't been a priority; and urban sprawl is just as big an issue here as it is in Calgary.
But things are improving. "Urban design in Edmonton has finally got some political backing," she says, noting Mayor Stephen Mandel has put a much-needed focus on this and other urban issues.
Mandel is indeed thinking about a lot of things besides Edmonton's lack of a clear brand. "Throw on a cowboy hat, and that's Calgary," says the city's mayor of three years.
"Edmonton has struggled for years, but we're getting more confident with our identity."
Mandel sees Calgary and Edmonton as being two very different, but complementary, cities. "One of the real dilemmas of this province is that both Calgary and Edmonton have inferiority complexes," he says as he relaxes in his palatial city hall office.
"We're competitive with one another, and that's unhealthy. What we need to do is work together now, to build a great province."
He acknowledges that the two cities share many of the same boom time challenges - public transportation is one of his big concerns - but there are some that are unique to Edmonton. For instance, the population of one million is derived from what's known as the Alberta Capital Region, which consists of Edmonton proper along with 23 surrounding, sometimes warring, municipalities.
"You'll be having the same challenges we're having in this now, in about 10 years, with places like Airdrie and Okotoks," he says of the often-frustrating experience of trying to build consensus.
He's quick to point to Edmonton assets like its wealth of educational institutions in the city's core, its cultural offerings and its leadership in the life sciences field.
"We're a city of the future, with a great cultural scene," says Mandel, in this columnist's first encounter with anything remotely resembling Edmonton-style boosterism.
Rachel Notley is another typical understated Edmontonian, but admits she's been an ambassador for her hometown while living in other major Canadian cities.
"There are low expectations from people outside of Edmonton about our city," says the politician set to replace Raj Pannu as the New Democrat standard-bearer for Edmonton-Strathcona.
"Edmonton is the pleasant surprise."
Along with her city's more diverse political landscape - "if Edmonton were a city state, we would have had three different governments in the last 20 years" - the native Edmontonian loves its down-to-earth collective character.
"I think it's because so many here still have strong rural roots," says the lawyer daughter of the late ND politician Grant Notley over lunch at Caf Select, an Edmonton dining institution. "That brings with it a lack of pretense."
Lack of pretense, indeed. We Calgarians have a lot in common with this other urban Alberta centre. We share many of the same challenges, and, for the most part, we fiercely love our cities.
Just don't expect our northerly neighbours to shout their love from the rooftops.
It's just not the Edmonton way.
vfortney@theherald.canwest.com