By John Leroux (Manager of Collections and Exhibitions, Beaverbrook Art Gallery)
Originally published in: Bibliography of New Brunswick Architecture. Kentville, NS: Gaspereau Press, 2021.
When we look back at history, ancient or modern, it is often the architectural legacy that creates our first impression of the times. Architecture is a cultural yardstick of human existence, and when realized with integrity and devotion, it can represent the highest form of enlightenment and spiritual triumph. Consequently, to truly understand a place as unique as New Brunswick, it is necessary to look closely at its built environment, which documents, in three dimensions, the region’s dreams and aspirations, and a few of its discernable failings. The built environment tells us who we were, and who we might become.
Millennia before European contact, the Wabanaki lived on this land, relying on their understanding of the natural world and the changing seasons for their survival in a harsh climate. Three groups of this Indigenous confederacy lived in harmony with the forests, coastlines, and rivers of present-day New Brunswick: the Mi’kmaq, the Wolastoqiyik, and the Passamaquoddy. Their modest dwellings were in accord with their needs and their environment. The structures were efficient and fully sustainable. Their cone-shaped wigwams of lapped birchbark on a frame of thin wooden poles were portable, and when moved left little detritus beyond post holes and fire pits at the abandoned site. This “living lightly on the earth” would last until the mid-19th century when the Wabanaki would be forced onto government reserves and into western-style frame housing. until very recently, their traditional building practices and the values they espoused have been discounted by the settler majority.
New Brunswick architecture has evolved over hundreds of years, through successive waves of settlement, immigration, and social upheaval, from the early manifestations of Indigenous peoples to the complex buildings of the present day. The French explorers and Acadian settlers in the 17th to early 18th century were followed by a wave of Loyalist immigration in the 1780s, the prosperous British colonial era of the early to mid-19th century, the post-Confederation thrust of the late-19th century, the economic downturn of the 1920s and 1930s, the infrastructure growth of the Second World War, the 1950s and 1960s building boom, and the ebbs and flows of the last half-century.
The beginning of European-based architecture in Canada is tied to the province of New Brunswick. In 1604, a seventy-nine man expedition searching for riches of fur and fish led to the first attempt by the French to establish a year-round colony in north America. Led by Pierre Du Gua de Monts and Samuel de Champlain, the small band settled on St. Croix Island, several kilometres above the mouth of the St. Croix river near present-day St. Andrews. Although the expedition was filled with promise, its disastrous outcome is now etched in history. The island effectively became a prison during the harsh six-month winter. Prefabricated building components made of wood had been brought from France, but the traditional French building designs and site plans were ill-suited to the severe climate. As soon as warm weather arrived in 1605, the buildings were dismantled and moved across the Bay of Fundy to Port Royal, where they were reconstructed in a more efficient and interconnected configuration. However tragic, the 1604–5 expedition showed without a doubt that effective settlement of places such as this demanded new architectural and environmental approaches.
The late 1600s and first half of the 1700s saw the flourishing of Acadian communities on the Tantramar Marsh (or “Beaubassin”) and along the lower St. John River. Around Beaubassin, the Acadians built a simple but sophisticated system of dykes (called aboiteaux) that drained the salt marshes so that the rich tidal flats could be used as farmland. Early Acadian houses were rudimentary and unadorned, typically one-storey heavy-timber or log buildings with a single or double-room plan, topped by a gable roof. Windows were sparse and the dark interiors often had tamped earth floors. While few 18th century structures and no 17th century buildings survive, we know they adopted a language that was straightforward and functional. Because of Acadia’s strategic position, a number of French forts were established in the region. Most were small, with simple log palisade walls, while Fort Beauséjour at Aulac had an advanced technical design and a carefully planned geometric layout.
Following the settlement of a small group of American “Planter” colonists along the St. John river and near Tantramar in the 1760s, the Loyalists who arrived in the 1780s brought new architectural principles to the region. The province of New Brunswick was created in 1784 in response to the influx of approximately 14,000 of these Revolutionary War refugees who chose to remain loyal to the British Crown. Sea traffic, trade, and commerce would be key to the prosperity of the new colony. The newborn city of Saint John on the Bay of Fundy became New Brunswick’s most important port, with St. Andrews holding second place for several decades.
While the first Loyalist houses and other structures were understandably simple and austere, the quality and reach of their design grew as the province grew. The Loyalists’ first domestic buildings were often crude log shanties, but a number of elegant and unpretentious houses were soon built along the new town grids that dotted the province, such as at Fredericton, St. Andrews, and Saint John. These structures were inspired by familiar American precedents of past generations and almost always built of wood, although by the next generation some notable stone buildings were erected at Dorchester and along the Miramichi River. By 1800, New Brunswick possessed a broad range of Georgian houses and public buildings sporting hip, gambrel, saltbox, or low gable roofs. A number of defensive military structures soon appeared, such as blockhouses at St. Andrews, a Martello Tower in Saint John, and the various Military Compound buildings in Fredericton. By the 1820s, a prosperous new society was flourishing, largely due to the booming timber trade, which created a need for new buildings, and a desire for the symmetrical and ordered design fashions of the day as reflected in the neoclassical and Palladian styles. Some of the most notable buildings from that period include King’s College and Government House in Fredericton, various courthouses around the province, and churches such as Greenock Presbyterian in St. Andrews.
Of great significance to our history is the introduction of the Gothic Revival style to New Brunswick, coinciding with the arrival of Bishop John Medley from England in the mid-1840s. Medley influenced the designs and oversaw the construction of Christ Church Cathedral and St. Anne’s Parish Church in Fredericton, both of which are considered early milestones of mature Gothic revival in North America.
With an abundance of skilled labour, easy access to the world’s best materials, and the wealth generated by shipping and the lumber trade, the 19th century saw many architectural styles flourish throughout the cities and countryside of New Brunswick, from the Classical revival style of the 1850s to the Beaux Arts monumentality of the early 20th century. Lofty churches, elaborate railway stations, vigorous commercial streetscapes, large government buildings and schools, rows of mansions, and graceful farms became common sights throughout much of the province. The region also witnessed an explosion of progressive engineering and infrastructure projects such as factories, bridges, harbour works, and lighthouses.
In the Victorian era, Saint John rose to prominence as one of the largest cities in Canada and a major seaport and shipbuilding centre. It was tied to the world through trade, and for a brief shining moment New Brunswick was an economic and cultural powerhouse. A catastrophic fire in 1877 destroyed Saint John’s commercial core, which was subsequently rebuilt of brick and stone in the Italianate and Second Empire styles. Much of it has endured and been recognized as architecture of national significance, joining such inspired New Brunswick buildings as the Maxwell summer houses in St. Andrews, Fredericton’s City Hall, and the Connell House in Woodstock. Other significant examples of Victorian architecture still standing are the Provincial Legislature in Fredericton and ship-captains’ houses in Miramichi and St. Martins. The era’s wealth and confidence are evident in these constructions which have contributed to the province’s unique visual poetry.
The onset of the 20th century brought declining economic conditions to New Brunswick. The federal government’s focus on Central Canada and the collapse of wooden shipbuilding foreshadowed a new fiscal reality, and the region’s glory years slowly faded into memory. While some notable structures were built in New Brunswick between the two world wars, their number was small in comparison to other emergent regions of Canada. Patrons were becoming less inclined to commission and build progressive structures, disposed rather to coast on familiar styles.
Between the world wars, architecture in New Brunswick vacillated between tradition and wider international movements. eclectic revival styles were often favoured, with new public buildings proudly boasting their historic European lineage while still trying to appear fashionable, clean, and “of the times.” In the domestic realm, local vernaculars gave way to wider north American trends, as international design precedents became more accessible through print publications and other media. The Arts and Crafts movement and the popularity of the craftsman bungalow became particularly influential in middle-class housing design.
Changing outlooks and the Great Depression of the 1930s signalled the last gasp of pure, classically inspired architecture and monumental Beaux Arts civic buildings. Advances in building technology, simplification of architectural ornament, and engineering and transportation projects hinted at the modern sensibilities that would emerge after the Second World War. While few in number, distinguished instances of Art Deco and Streamlined Moderne styles appeared in New Brunswick as evidenced by the Saint John General Hospital, John Lyle’s Bank of Nova Scotia at Saint John’s King’s Square, and the Radio Canada International Transmitting Building near Sackville.
At the end of the Second World War, New Brunswick society was still largely traditional and rural, and architectural styles popular since the 1920s and 1930s continued to be used in major buildings up to the late 1940s. Change came slowly but began to be felt, augured by massive social changes. The return from war of thousands of veterans, the baby boom, suburban expansion, and the allure of the automobile would have a lasting impact on the built landscape.
Loyalty to architectural tradition declined in the early 1950s. The Modern movement was fast taking hold throughout north America, while significant economic and industrial progress became a catalyst for rapid growth throughout New Brunswick. The province desperately wanted to become “modern” and to be part of a forward-looking Canada, and its architects were primed for the experiment. A conscious break from the past, Modernism coincided with new post-war political and social values. Following the dictum that “form follows function,” architects rejected ornamentation almost completely, at the same time embracing innovative technology and dramatic materials such as steel, aluminum, plate glass, and plastics. Widely embraced by the public were International Style office blocks in Saint John, Moncton, and Fredericton; structurally daring churches including Saint-Louis-de-Gonzague in Richibucto and Église Christ-Roi in Moncton; monumental public buildings exemplified by Fredericton’s Centennial Building; and new housing styles that responded to the needs of the modern family. Concurrent with these aspirational projects was an unfortunate upheaval, the “urban renewal” demolition of historic neighbourhoods that made way for automobile-friendly open space and highway construction. Central Saint John was hardest hit, with thousands displaced and swaths of the city razed.
By the 1960s and 1970s, a broad eclecticism was being adopted in the construction of new university buildings, airports, dams, and bridges, all stylishly celebrating the virtues of contemporary structural engineering and the efficient use of materials. New approaches gained favour, such as the rough exposed concrete style known as Brutalism—deftly employed at Edmundston’s Église Notre-Dame du Sacré-Coeur—and the revisiting of regional materials and identities through the New Shingle style, as exemplified by the Sugarloaf Provincial Park Pavilions at Atholville.
The 1973 energy crisis brought its own weight to bear, encouraging a reconsideration of building form, with a new emphasis on energy conservation, renewable power sources, and alternate heating systems. Then, a deep economic recession at the start of the 1980s severely affected architectural production in the province. The previous generation’s appetite for Modernist architecture shifted to a more cautious approach that took fewer risks, ceding to financial considerations and cultural restraint. Housing, commercial structures, and public buildings reflected only a faint attention to ornament, cultural context, and idiosyncrasy. Their saving grace was frequently their material quality and substantial mass, which together conferred a sense of permanence.
The era’s profound questioning and criticism of Modernism eventually gave rise to the Postmodernist movement, which advocated a return to architectural elements and symbols of the past that emphasized a building’s context and culture. New Brunswick’s cities also benefitted from a new spirit of historic preservation, respect for the urban streetscape, and mixed-use commercial developments such as Market Square in Saint John and the Blue Cross Centre in Moncton.
As the merits of Postmodernism were fiercely debated, a search for a more enlightened contemporary architecture was taking hold by the mid-1990s. Embracing Modernism’s technical and material language, this new approach pursued a more inclusive sense of public space, human scale, environmental responsibility, and social engagement. The new millenium saw a number of high-profile projects come to fruition. opened in 1997, the Confederation Bridge connecting New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island is considered one of the greatest engineering feats in Canadian history. Meanwhile, the Koehler House along the rocky Bay of Fundy coastline became one of the most widely-published houses in the world at the turn of the 21st century. With a strong environmental agenda gaining traction in the province as I write, energy conservation and sustainable material considerations will remain central to architectural practice going forward.
The Bibliography
The chronicle of buildings is one of the most revealing avenues for understanding a region’s cultural substance. The architectural lineage embodies what mattered economically, socially, and politically at various junctures throughout history. New Brunswick’s architecture has regularly reached pinnacles that are worthy of the international models and principles that inspired them, although recognition of the province’s achievements has been wanting, not least within our own borders. Similarly, while interest in New Brunswick history has always been vibrant, attention to the province’s architectural scholarship, or a deeper read of its built history, has been scant. The published sources from earlier periods often languish, gathering dust on library shelves. Rectifying this situation will lay a foundation for future study and professional practice, and this has inspired me over the past twenty years to collect the materials for this bibliography. The documents contained within it are intended to frame our perceptions of New Brunswick’s architectural heritage and help ground the structures and places/spaces in our visually complex built environment. They also give our most significant buildings their well-deserved place in the canon of global architecture.
Who knew that a Catholic church in a small town on the Northumberland Strait is linked to one of the most famous modern buildings in Mexico? Or that the cover of a Minnesota architect’s monograph features one of the world’s most celebrated houses of the new millennium, built on the rocky shore of the Bay of Fundy? There’s also the contribution of New Brunswick architects outside our borders: the Albert County-born Reid brothers who, after moving to California well over a century ago, became known for designing San Diego’s famous Hotel del Coronado and San Francisco’s “Call Building” skyscraper; and John Medley, the Anglican Bishop of Fredericton, whose efforts contributed significantly to the spread of Gothic revival church architecture throughout north America. All of these stories can be found in the published sources listed in this volume.
I am grateful that the opportunity arose to work with Jocelyne Thompson on a volume for the New Brunswick Bibliography Series. I have endeavoured to include every useful published work on New Brunswick architecture, English and French, in my bibliography. From encyclopedic monographs to introductory magazine articles, and from serious photographic tomes to lighter surveys and tourist/ business guides, the amount of materials of visual and historical value on the subject is vast—but not so vast as to prevent gaining a solid handle on it. The Bibliography of New Brunswick Architecture you hold in your hands includes over 700 entries listed under twenty-one subject headings. These have been amassed through committed research, some serendipitous good luck, and a compulsion for collecting materials on the subject. A majority of the items appearing in the bibliography are part of my personal library. I truly believe that the existence of such a bibliography early in my career would have saved me thousands of hours of research, as I laboured to study the architectural past of our province.
Readers may wonder about the inclusion of certain materials in the bibliography, on topics that may seem on the periphery of what we typically consider “buildings.” My answer is that architecture is an expansive, multidisciplinary field. In my opinion, a full understanding of the sweep of architecture also involves landscape design and urban planning, monuments, ephemeral structures, engineering and infrastructure in such forms as bridges and dams, and even visual art and photography where they intersect with the built landscape.
Present and future generations deserve to recognize and understand the meaningful spaces and structures that New Brunswick’s builders and architects have contributed to the cultural heritage of Canada. In the Maritimes, our buildings have historically combined fine craftsmanship, quality materials, and respect for their environment. While this tradition is laudable, the response has often been disregard, if not outright hostility, shown particularly to New Brunswick’s postwar legacy. A key motivation for my own publications over the past twenty years has been the sharing of stories about buildings erected since the end of the Second World War. Citing modern buildings of significance—and there are many—makes complete our architectural narrative, revealing an overlooked aspect of our society and its sophisticated material culture. It is heartening to see that a shift has occurred over the past decade, as dozens of articles and books have appeared on contemporary New Brunswick architects and architecture. Our best designers have created award-winning projects of great beauty, sensitivity, and innovation.
Nevertheless, despite the aforementioned interest in the province’s history, there is an alarming rate of erosion and demolition of our historic building stock. Too often, governments and developers do not fully appreciate the sociocultural importance and economic value of New Brunswick’s architectural heritage. If written records can open minds to the merits of architectural preservation and quality design for our future buildings, then one of my objectives in preparing this bibliography will have been realized.
While actual visits to built locations are irreplaceable, publications are a crucial companion to understanding a structure’s consequence. For such an experiential art form as architecture, it is often the book and printed page that communicate the most precious aspects of an architectural creation in our collective history. Very few north Americans have actually seen Louis Kahn’s magnificent Bangladesh Parliament building in Dhaka, or remember London’s Crystal Palace, but so many continue to write of them reverentially. It is through the power of the printed and illustrated page that architecture often has its widest and most lasting reach. I sincerely hope this bibliography will provide a firm entry for all who have an interest in this subject as it relates to this unique province called New Brunswick.
January 2021