Line 5: De Castelnau

Welcome to De Castelnau station, which is, in my humble opinion, one the absolute gems of the Montréal metro. After the train on which you arrived has departed, take a moment just to stand on the platform, and to take in this beautifully balanced and composed space.

We’re in Little Italy, so the materials chosen are highly reminiscent of the soft colours found in the vernacular architecture of the Italian peninsular. The bricks are the first material we notice – a light clay that has been fired to produced this exact texture and colour. Marble highlights the balustrading to the escalators, and two shades of brown paving tiles indicate the flow of passengers from the platforms to the steps and escalators, simultaneously breaking up the orthogonal form of the platform surfaces. Altogether, it’s one of the subtlest but most successful combinations of materials in any metro station in Montréal, and it’s the real reason this is such a satisfying space.

The architectural vocabulary of the station comes across as permanent and solid. Look at the wall above the mouth of the tunnel in the direction of Snowdon. There is a thick curved band of concrete that strengthens the distinctive section form of the tunnel, and by continuing the same bricks from the platform and atrium walls right up to the top of the space, we become aware of the proportions of the station’s atrium.

Even the benches are in keeping: beautifully proportioned solid pieces, crafted in wood and varnished. Although petty vandalism, tagging and general wear and tear has been extensive, these benches still look good, and are a remarkable testament to how well wood can age in comparison with plastic. Think of some of the graffiti-ed plastic benches or seats that are around the metro. Plastic is not a material that ages well. Here, however, these wooden benches have softened and worn comfortably with time. If you want to see what they looked like when they were new, then just take a look beyond the semi-permanent barriers that shorten the public length of the platform: there are some unused and untouched benches just beyond, patiently waiting for the day when full length trains run on the blue line.

Both transitional spaces from the platforms to the ticket hall are large, continuing the ceiling level of the ticket hall over the platform level threshold of the escalators and steps. However, it’s the void over the stairs down to the Saint-Michel platform that is the most exciting. If you’re not already there, pass over to that side, and if you’re coming from the other platform, be sure to pause at the top of the escalators before descending. Almost hanging in the space above the platform annex is the incredible concrete form of the stairs from the street level entrance. If you enter from the street at this point you don’t really take much notice of the steps – it is the occasional vertiginous view down to the platforms that catches your eye. However from here we can see what a treat these stairs really are. The actual stepped form of the staircase above is reflected in the underside, and inexpensive strip lights are nicely fitted into the coffers. What I really love about these stairs is the really legible way in which they demonstrate their structure. You might not believe it, but those small steel joints between the concrete of the stairs and the concrete beams that fly out from the walls are really taking the load of the stairs. The forms are all in proportion: concrete might be one of the densest and heaviest materials used here, but the elegance of the execution just makes this a real cherry on the cake. Notice also how the columns to the platform sides of the escalators frame views of the platforms and of people moving up or down on the escalators.

Since de Castelnau remains a fairly quiet station, it’s not unusual for two trains to leave and for you to find yourself alone. When someone does disturb your solitude, you’re treated to glimpses of their descent from above through the ‘frames’ made by the structure.

This station seems to me to be a very successful evocation of Italian architecture. Although it’s a real cliché to refer to modern architecture being reminiscent of cathedrals, I’m going to fall into it here and say that the architectural feel of de Castelnau station is very similar to that in a Renaissance-period chapel or church. The finish and detailing is of course very different, but despite being a station through which trains rumble, it’s a remarkably calm and sensual space.