The Pavilion at 84 Sussex Avenue

This beautiful pavilion was built by a carpenter in 1895, for his own house. It is part of a larger scheme of Italianate Victoria windows that wraps all around the house. It was eccentric and old-fashioned at the time. It has a claim to be the last major work of stained glass in the Victorian style in Toronto. I grew up very close by, and have loved this object all my life.

The damage was caused by a falling ladder in a windstorm. It punched through the lower edge of one of the curved panels.

When I examined the windows, I found that the window next to the impact, although not struck, was in very poor condition. Its cement was entirely gone, and it was sagging under its own weight. I removed them both for restoration.

Although very dirty (as is normal), most of the glass was in good shape and cleaned up well. Some of the mauve border was badly shattered and could not be re-used. This was not from the impact, but from long-term compression. These windows were jammed in very tightly when they were first installed.

Putting old windows back together is usually not that bad. This one, the flat panel, was easy once I got used to the design. The construction is quite sneaky. I think these windows were first made by a friend of the carpenter’s as a favour. They were made by someone with immense experience, but quickly and cheaply.

Rebuilding the curved one was trickier, and more fun. I tried to use the most ancient methods, even in how I measured it. Curving a window is always a bad plan. I was surprised, once it was done, that it was pretty solid. Once the curve is in place, it helps make the panel more rigid.

Now they back where they belong,
and the Pavilion is again complete.

The Pavilion on Sussex was built in 1895. Its design is derived from Venetian architectural patterns. For 1895, it is very conservative. In 1895, Toronto was overbuilt, and the market was showing signs of collapse. There wasn’t much work anymore in the glass trades. And, the fashion was changing with electrification. Colour was out, texture was in. The multiple borders and saturated colours of 1888 were no longer the height of fashion.

This project is an unusually clear expression of Aestheticism. The Aesthetic Movement was a reaction against industrialization, and against Victorian-era bad housing. It insisted on the dignoty, not only of hand work, but of creative autonomy for individual workers. A dignified life was supposed to filled with handmade things, both because they were better, and because having people make them improved society as a whole. The idea that good design would lead to good people and to good jobs was the core of Aesteticism. The champions of Aestheticism, its theorists, included William Morris and John Ruskin. Ruskin is interesting in this context, because his book The Stones of Venice illustrates, and celebrates, the arch-style used in these windows.

The house here was a normal working/clerk class house of about 1888. It is one of six. Its elaborator, the carpenter, was not the original builder. He was apparently an Aestheticist, with deep knowledge of the movement. The house is clearly a showpiece, but of an ideology and a style that was on the way out at the time. The Annexe district of Toronto has a long history of crazy houses—folk art houses that are meant to stand out and defy the neighbors. This one was built by a professional, which is unusual, but otherwise it is almost a crazy house. There is no comparable object anywhere in Toronto.

When I was little, I loved the Pavilion on Sussex. It is an honour and a treat to be the one who repaired it.