The Henry Marshall Tory Building
Saskatchewan Drive & 112th Street
Architects: Mike Kuprak of the Provincial Department of Public Works w/ L.A. DeMonte of Berkley, California
Constructed: 1965-66
The Henry Marshall Tory Building has a certain rep among University of Alberta students. If you were to walk onto campus today and ask someone to describe it, you’d likely get some variation of the below, no doubt in a tone as venomous as a snake’s bite:
“The Henry Marshall Tory Building is an abortion.”
“It is narrow corridors surrounding a maze of strangely numbered rooms.”
“It is a small entrance through which thousands of students are expected to pass.”
“It is U-shaped halls which lead to nowhere.”
“It is a building where the only passages to the lecture rooms are through the basement or an outside tunnel.”
“It has no elevator service to the basement or the second floor.”
“It is a fire-alarm system which may be activated by the heat from un-conditioned rooms.”
“It is students and professors missing classes because they are lost.”
“It is a building with no directional signs.”
What makes these quotes special though is that they’re not from today. They’re not even quotes. They’re instead excerpts from a poem. The Ivory Tower it was called. The bi-weekly student-body newspaper, The Gateway, published it on September 28th, 1966 — that was five days after the building first opened to students.
Since its inception, good ol’ Tory has been the community’s punching bag. Mockery of it’s almost a rite of passage, symbolizing the moment where you’re no longer a wet-behind-the-ears university hopeful, but a beleaguered and cynical undergrad. It’s the campus’ black sheep and it’s not without reason. Nearly every quote was true then and is still true now. Tory’s a building that’s plagued; so ill designed for its use and constantly on the verge of keeling over.
Back in the day, The Gateway was relentless in its coverage of the building. Critique sat on a spectrum ranging from the sincere to the bombastic. Whatever position they took you could be sure any mention would be followed with a dose of quick wit or heavy sarcasm. “Let joy be unconfined” they exclaimed a few days prior to Tory’s opening. “The public is invited to attend festivities… when the architect and numerous other dignitaries will hold court. The password is expected to be ‘If you can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.’ A quiet afternoon is forecasted.”
Students were encouraged to send their thoughts in to the paper; the more creative, the better. The results were hilarious. Ralph Melnychuk, a frequent collaborator, submitted a poem about its maze-like halls. Requiescant in Pace he dubbed it;
“Oh, he’ll never return,
No, he’ll never return,
And his fate is still unlearned.
He may roam forever
‘Neath the roof of Tory
He’s the man who never returned.”
That’s not to say all criticism was lighthearted. Serious tirades frequently focused on Tory’s physical appearance. While the Royal Architectural Institute of Canada Journal had lauded its distinctive exterior as “attractive,” most students and staff weren’t swayed. For decades campus had been a collection of classical styled buildings and here came a Modernist skyscraper dropped in the middle of it. “Frank Lloyd Wright wouldn’t be happy,” The Gateway opined. “The new Tory social sciences building rises… as an example of conflicting architectural styles that makes critics out of people in all campus faculties.”
The unique design was the result of its construction. As the R.A.I.C. explained, it “was produced by installing service pipes on the outside walls and insulating them with rigid urethane foam. Insulation with foam was carried out by pouring the mixed chemicals into triangular plywood forms placed around the pipelines and allowing the foam to rise within them… After the foam had cured, the plywood forms were removed and replaced with cut stone facings.”
Charles A. Berst, a Garneau-area resident, agreed with The Gateway. Writing to the Edmonton Journal he lambasted its characterless appearance as “another example of the provincial government’s poor sense of economy. By using its own imaginative architects, the Province is providing us with buildings which are obsolete from the day they are built.” “These structures are a part of the heritage the adults of Alberta are bequeathing to their youth,” he proselytized in another letter. “What a pity that this heritage is symbolized by such architectural mediocrity.”
The University wasn’t impressed with the coverage. Fred Colborne, Minister of Public Works, smugly shrugged off the complaints. “Some like Picasso — some don’t.” J.R.B. Jones, Director of Campus Development, went further. The Journal should have been ashamed of itself for printing Berst’s comments, he argued. “Buildings can't talk back! It’s one of the best buildings on campus. A very experienced group of professors took over three years to plan the building and they’re quite happy about the arrangements.”
Regardless of if professors were happy with Tory, students weren’t. That same issue that had the poem about “The Ivory Tower”? The one printed a week into the building’s opening? It noted that it was already being dubbed “the rat-trap” by students — a sentiment most feel half-a-century on.
Image Gallery:
Sources:
“Frank Lloyd Wright Wouldn’t Be Happy,” The Gateway, November 17, 1965.
Charles Berst, “No Imagination?,” Edmonton Journal, August 9, 1966.
“The Ivory Tower,” The Gateway, September 28, 1966.
Charles Berst, “Poor Economy?,” Edmonton Journal, October 8, 1966.
“U Of A Official Replies To Criticism of Building,” Edmonton Journal, October 13, 1966.
Elaine Verbicky, “Garneau Move Delayed A Year,” The Gateway, November 2, 1966.
“Official Opening,” The Gateway, November 16, 1966.
Ralph Melnychuk, “Requiescant in Pace,” The Gateway, November 18, 1966.
“Review,” Royal Architectural Institute of Canada Journal Vol.43, No.2 (1966), 22, https://dalspace.library.dal.ca//handle/10222/74782.
