Line 5: D'Iberville

Also opened in June 1986, D’Iberville station was designed by the architect Eddy Tardiff, who also produced the station’s single artwork, a striking sculpture that hangs above the tracks at one end of the station.

The principal material you’ll notice on the station platforms are the standard sized bricks which are layed vertically alongside the platforms themselves, and then laid horizontally elsewhere. Interspersed along the length of the platform walls are stainless steel strips running from the floor to the black station name panel – I’m not quite sure what these achieve or contribute to the design, because they only seem to lessen the attractive forms of the vertically laid bricks. Compare these with the metal strips interspersed in the brick platform walls of Mont-Royal station on the orange line to see how they might have been included more subtly. The only real splash of colour can be found in the bright red benches. The gently curved tunnel roof is of the usual poured concrete with drainage channels attached. Along with the tiled floor and stone steps, it’s a sombre but quite attractive combination for this quiet station.

The station is arranged with the platforms directly below Jean-Talon street above, with two exits at D’Iberville street and Louis-Hébert street at the Snowdon and Saint-Michel ends respectively. Of the two however, only the rue Louis-Hébert exit is staffed.

From the platform, follow the signs towards rue D’Iberville and the secondary exit from the station. The arrangement of the bridge over the tracks at this end means you don’t notice the station’s gorgeous aluminium sculpture by Eddy Tardiff until you’re either right underneath the bridge or passing over it. The poured concrete roof of the station tunnel appears to stop and turn vertically upwards at this point, framed with the same brick that lines the platform walls. The sculpture is actually hanging on a wall mounted with brown steel strips, but which provide a contrast with the colour and texture of the brick walls on either side.

The steps from the Snowdown platform are recessed into a small apse, which is topped with a curved poured concrete roof, much like that over the tracks. From here you can climb onto the bridge and take a closer look not only at the sculpture but also the subterranean space of the D’Iberville exit. The tragedy of this station is that when faced with the financial decision to close one of the two ticket booths, and make one end of the station unmanned, the STM seemed to choose the wrong end, at least in terms of architectural quality. Comparing the two entrances to this station, it soon becomes apparent that this is far and away the better atrium space, and it’s insensitive conversion to automated barriers has scarred the beautifully simple space with a white fence that completely destroys the coherence and visual appeal of the volume.

However, we can only assume that statistics and proximity to bus lines influenced the decision, which leaves this gorgeous space and sparkling sculpture largely unnoticed by the greater number of passengers who use the station. The space is more or less cubic in form, with only the skewed edge of the bridge and the security barriers breaking the orthogonal arrangement of the space. Pass through the intimidating barriers and you’ll come into the more spacious side of the ticket hall. Notice how the brick finish to the walls continues almost to the top of the space, and then the unfinished concrete continues as far as the concrete roof of the space. Deep poured concrete beams support the pavement above, and the spaces between open up above the escalator to reveal the modest station entrance at street level. You can choose to exit here and walk back to the other station entrance at rue Louis-Hébert but once you’ve seen the street level entrance, I recommend you go back down again and experience the space again, this time as you descend the escalator from above.

The Louis-Hébert entrance is nothing particularly special in comparison, and with the ticket barriers at street level in a much smaller space, could have been much more easily and sympathetically converted to unmanned operation than the D’Iberville exit. However, note as your descend the escalators at this end how the curved roof above the mezzanine above the tracks kinks upwards and follows the direction of the escalator before twisting up into a vertical face. It’s a subtle but neat way of transitioning from the more open space of the street level pavilion to the lower and shallower space of the mezzanine above the tracks. Note how that because the railways tracks descend away from the station towards Fabre, you can stand here and see Saint-Michel direction trains approaching.

D’Iberville is a quiet backwater on the network, and the architecture seems to match this rather appropriately. It’s just a real shame that the finer of the two station entrances has been altered for unmanned operation without much sympathy to an incredibly strong architectural form. In doing so, a fine piece of art is losing it’s audience – many have to go to the manned entrance to exit or enter the station, and those that do enter at D’Iberville don’t notice it because it’s obscured until you pass through the full height ticket barrier, by which time most passengers are more focussed on getting to their platform. If this is the first time you’ve seen it, however, I hope you’ve enjoyed discovering this under appreciated gem of a station.