“It must be FUN. It must arouse curiosity. It must be a place of wonder. It must have unmeasurable qualities of comfort and joy, of discovery with others. It must fuse the visitor with ideas through active participation. It must be an emotional experience with intellectual satisfaction.” — Raymond Moriyama, architect, from his notes on designing the Ontario Science Centre, 1964
In a letter written to the Toronto Star in April 2023, around the time that Premier Doug Ford officially announced that the Ontario Science Centre would move to Ontario Place as part of that site’s controversial redevelopment, Moriyama reflected that, when the museum was built in the late 1960s, “we guaranteed that with proper maintenance the life of this project will last far beyond 250 years.”
That lifespan turned out to be 55 years, as unwillingness to address structural neglect over the past decade led to the science centre’s sudden closure on June 21 due to an engineering report that suggested the possibility of a roof collapse as soon as next winter.
My wife and I had discussed visiting the science centre in the near future, figuring, as I suspect many others had, that it would be at least a year or two before any moves were made. When I was growing up in the early 1980s, the science centre was a favourite stop for my sister and me whenever we travelled from Amherstburg to visit our grandparents. We loved all the colourful interactive exhibits: we pressed every available button, played every musical instrument, pedalled every stationary bike. Even riding the long escalators down to the main exhibit halls was a fun experience, as nothing like that existed in Essex County. And when we couldn’t visit Toronto, the science centre came to us, thanks to travelling exhibitions that stopped in Windsor.
Magical Imperfection: The Life and Architecture of Raymond Moriyama | TVO Docs
Though I visited less as an adult, the science centre retained its power to resurrect my childhood sense of wonder. Grownups could be kids again without shame, demonstrating to children that it was possible to sustain a lifelong sense of curiosity and fun. Exhibits presenting scientific material to the public evolved and also showed how knowledge had evolved over time. As a writer who often covers architecture, I also grew to appreciate Moriyama’s design as reflective of its era and of the approach, noted in the book Concrete Toronto, that “architecture is not simply the design of buildings, but a deeply collaborative process of ‘placemaking’ rooted in the connection of man, spirit, and building to land, nature, site, and content.”
When I heard about the imminent closure on Friday afternoon, I jumped in my car and — as much as I could, given construction and the unrelated closure of a nearby road for a police investigation — raced over to the site. When I arrived, workers were installing fencing at the parking-lot entrances in preparation for closing them off for good.
Fencing outside the Ontario Science Centre on June 21. (Jamie Bradburn)
When I asked a worker whether the building would be open for the rest of the afternoon, they shrugged, demonstrating the clarity of the lines of communication that day (radio reports I heard on the way home indicated that some patrons and school groups inside had no idea what was happening). I went into the upper entrance and was assured the building would stay open for a few more hours, then directed to the shuttle-bus stop.
That shuttle bus I had to board to go to a lower level to reach the exhibit halls was itself a sign of neglect. This service was introduced in 2022 after the pedestrian bridge connecting the street-level entrance to the rest of the building was taken out of service, one of 42 deferred maintenance projects since 2017 that, according to a December 2023 auditor general’s report, the province was not taking care of. That report found that the shuttle service was among the factors that had harmed the overall visitor experience in recent years.
(Jamie Bradburn)
When I entered the building just after 2 p.m., the souvenir booth was closing and turning potential customers away. Noticing the ticket area was empty, I asked an employee where I could pay. They were about to send me away when another employee walked by and told me to come on in. Given the short notice, and as it was a Friday afternoon while school was still in session, there were few people there for the building’s final hours. While adults who knew what was happening seemed melancholy, children were enjoying themselves, full of questions as they played with the exhibits. One longstanding exhibit about air pressure inspired a father to explain to his son the mechanics of their air-hockey table at home.
There was no shortage of curiosity on display.
(Jamie Bradburn)
I wanted to see how many exhibits from my childhood were still around. The answer lay in the science arcade, where I found such classics as pedalling to power lights and pressing buttons to demonstrate the effects of magnetism. The interpretative materials were disappointing, not in terms of content but of style. In a space dedicated to entertaining and teaching children, minimalist black text on white background with no dynamic illustrations seemed out of place, especially given the circus- and carnival-inspired graphics I grew up with. It also felt emptier than I remembered: there was space that could have been filled with more things to play with.
In the Living Earth section, a station set up for taste-testing drinking water was closed. A giant red circle indicated that it was not operating “for your safety.” In the nearby rainforest exhibit, the frogs on display already appeared to have moved on.
(Jamie Bradburn)
I wandered through as much as the building as was possible, taking in exhibits on the human body, space, and the impact of beliefs and biases on scientific research. I also explored the cafeteria area, where I suspect my younger self would have stared at the robotic Yogen Früz machine for hours.
On the upper level, I took in the Great Hall, where Moriyama’s concrete design stood out. I also noticed people riding back and forth on the long elevators, taking in the views of the surrounding natural landscape and reflecting on their experiences.
The Great Hall at the Ontario Science Centre. (Jamie Bradburn)
As closing time neared, the halls grew quieter and quieter. An exception was a final cranking up of the iconic Van de Graaff generator, which raised the hair of generations of visitors. One of the presenters choked up as she noted her decades of working at the science centre. At that moment, the sense of loss struck me hard.
There are some who will argue that the building is outdated and that time has passed it by. And while there was room for improvement, attendance was starting to bounce back from COVID, and future transit links via the Eglinton Crosstown and the Ontario Line would have made the site even more accessible.
From left to right: The Ontario Science Centre's rainforest exhibit and its science diner. (Jamie Bradburn)
Reinvestment would have kept the content fresh and the building operational for years to come — as the engineering report suggests, a risk-management strategy could address the structural issues, which were not pressing for all areas of the site.
Instead, a shortsighted attitude toward landmarks and services that enrich the public good seems to have prevailed. Given the swiftness of the closure and the timing of the announcement on a Friday, people can’t help but speculate about why it happened: Did this have something to do with the Ontario Place move? With eager developers?
(Jamie Bradburn)
Whatever the actual motivations, the decision will be debated for years to come. One wonders whether — and how much — this will backfire: many Ontarians are angry about this avoidable loss, and there will certainly be further scrutiny of why the closure was handled in this manner.
In his letter to the Star, Moriyama, who passed away a few months later, observed that “more than 3,000 new and old science centres and museums worldwide have acknowledged they owe a debt to the Ontario Science Centre and its hands-on learning.” One hopes that any future incarnation, wherever it lands, will build upon this pioneering legacy.
Further reading: ‘Please touch everything’: Inside the opening of the Ontario Science Centre
Sources: Concrete Toronto, edited by Michael McClelland and Graeme Stewart (Toronto: Coach House Books and E.R.A. Architects, 2007); and the September 1969 edition of Canadian Architect.