Another Hole in Montreal’s Heart

The lower Main

The lower Main in 1997. Photo by Kate McDonnell

One of the defining features of Montreal’s cityscape is the abundance of vacant lots. Weedy, gravelly blocks of land, they can be seen in every neighbourhood, in some areas on every street, delineated by rows of misshapen concrete blocks, like boulders left behind by the retreat of urban development. (The concrete blocks, required by municipal law, serve to prevent illegal dumping.) Ten years ago, as the real estate market boomed, many of the lots were transformed into new apartment buildings and hotels. Streetcorners defined by the absence of buildings were reworked into the urban fabric.

Despite the progress, however, new vacant lots are still being created. Part of the reason is the alarming tendency for Montreal buildings to burn down. But mostly it comes down to a lack of foresight by City Hill and a far too cosy relationship between politicians and developers. It’s never hard to find an example. Here’s a recent one: the block of St-Laurent between Ste-Catherine and René-Lévesque.

For decades, this stretch of the lower Main was seedy but lively, and it embodied the schizoid character of Montreal’s downtown core. Under the elegant gaze of the Monument National marched a procession of strip clubs, peep shows, restaurants and dive bars, as including some venerable institutions: Canada’s oldest Middle Eastern grocery store, founded in 1903; the Montreal Pool Room, which had served classic Montreal-style hot dogs since 1912; and Café Cléopâtre, a classic strip club with a flair for the burlesque. It was grimy and past its prime, but it worked in that typically ragtag Montreal way. It was a place where you could get a steamed hot dog, attend Pecha Kucha Night, spend your change on a peep show, buy some smoked paprika and stumble out of a Club Soda concert at midnight — whatever.


Monument National, left; condemned block, right

Then came the Quartier des Spectacles. Part urban branding project, part urban renewal, it is an attempt to create a formal home in the urban landscape for the largest of Montreal’s multi-billion dollar summer festivals, notably the Jazz Festival, Just for Laughs and the Francofolies. Parking lots and vacant lots that were used every summer for concerts and other performances have now been converted into permanent plazas and squares. Other initiatives aimed to unify a district containing many of Montreal’s theatres, nightclubs and concert venues through new street furniture, lighting schemes and traffic calming. The 1960s-era Place des Arts cultural complex was revamped, a new symphony hall built, an abandoned building converted into a jazz centre and a new contemporary art complex built on the site of a once-derelict building.

Private investment was meant to round out the neighbourhood. But that’s where the Quartier des Spectacles has failed most spectacularly: it has created almost as many holes as it has filled in. First was the site of the Spectrum, a beloved concert hall, which was torn down in 2008 for a big-box retail complex that still hasn’t materialised. Now the lower Main is going through the same sad process. With the blessing of City Hall, a developer bought out most of the block, evicting the Montreal Pool Room and others, with the intention of building a large office block decorated with the façades of historic buildings. When the owner of Café Cléopâtre refused to sell his property, the project was stalled, and it eventually collapsed along with the economy. Now the block is condemned as structurally unsound; it will be demolished.

Heritage advocate Phyllis Lambert writes angrily against the demolition in Le Devoir, calling this kind of wholesale destruction of a city block a throwback to the days of massive urban renewal in the 1960s. She also strikes at the heart of the matter, which was the reason for the block’s decline: not economic misfortune, but bureaucratic incompetence. “The fact that this demolition was entirely orchestrated by politicians, bureaucrats and the developer by creating a sense of urgency and invoking public safety, and without any public consultation, is a worrisome step back for democracy,” she writes.

There is an alarming historic precedent for the case of the lower Main. In the mid-1980s, two developers purchased a block of Victorian apartment buildings on Overdale Avenue, in the west end of downtown Montreal, with the intent of redeveloping it into a $100 million luxury condominium project. Despite ferocious opposition from the community, the city’s administration gave the project the go-ahead, justifying the loss of historic buildings and the eviction of nearly 100 people with the development’s potential tax revenue. The block was razed in in 1989. The condominiums were never built and Overdale remains barren today. Its one surviving structure — the Louis-Hippolyte Lafontaine mansion, built in the 1830s — sits abandoned and decaying.

You don’t have to be a cynic to think that this is what lies in store for the lower Main. The buildings will come down, the concrete boulders will come up and another vacant lot will make its appearance in a city that is no stranger to them.


Vacant lot, concrete blocks

This entry was written by Christopher DeWolf , posted on Monday April 16 2012at 04:04 am , filed under Architecture, Art and Design, Canada, Heritage and Preservation, History, Politics and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink . Post a comment below or leave a trackback: Trackback URL.

5 Responses to “Another Hole in Montreal’s Heart”

  • Let’s also not forget the Queen’s Hotel fiasco…

  • Dan Brian says:

    Vacant lots are a real disease in a lot of downtowns. My city (Manchester NH) has a lot of these but in the form of under utilized parking lots/garages. Many of the streets have become shapeless and unwelcoming. How do you fix something that is in the very bones of a city’s layout?

  • SMD says:

    It is worth noting that the Quartier des spectacles is the work of not just any promoter, but that of a weird, para-municipal non-profit organization that has long overstepped its initial mandate. The Société de développement Angus was created for the sole purpose of developing the old Angus yards, but continues over fifteen years later to spend millions of tax-payers dollars without an ounce of accountability.

    Ironically enough, their website ( seems to be in the same stalled construction phase as the QdS project on the lower Main…

  • Kate M. says:

    I’ve written a response (really more of an elaboration) to this piece here:

  • Just in case anyone doesn’t get a chance to read what Kate posted on her blog, she elaborates on the history of the abandoned building that was turned into the jazz HQ. Its name is the Blumenthal Building and until ten years ago, it was full of artists’ studios and the SAT, a multimedia art space. Then it was expropriated by the provincial government, along with the adjacent TD bank and the nearby Wilder Building, which planned to knock it all down to build a new symphony hall. (Creativity is only useful when it’s centrally-managed!) That plan was scrapped when the current Liberal government took power in 2003, and the whole block was left to rot, the threat of demolition hanging over its head, until 2008.

    In other words, it came close to sharing the same fate as the block on the lower Main: abandonment through government mismanagement followed by demolition. It’s good that it wasn’t razed, but you really have to wonder whether the artists that were evicted didn’t do more for Montreal than the tourist-friendly but rather more corporate jazz centre.

    The Wilder Building is still empty.