Miro Cernetig
Sun
Riverview mental hospital’s buildings are massive examples of faux-Victorian institutionalism that dominate the grounds. Photograph by : Steve Bosch, Vancouver Sun
A walk through the lush, rolling grounds of the Riverview psychiatric hospital is still an unsettling trip down memory lane, evoking a darker age in the care of the mentally ill.
It’s a welcome brush stroke of pastoral green in Metro Vancouver’s suburban sprawl, with large lawns and a world-renowned collection of temperate-climate trees known as the arboretum. On that level, it’s idyllic.
But the eye is inevitably drawn to the crumbling buildings, massive examples of faux-Victorian institutionalism that dominate the grounds.
They are dark and dank, full of asbestos and disturbing memories that bring to mind the hellish asylum in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.
On a cold, grey day, I almost thought I glimpsed Nurse Ratched doing her rounds behind the iron-barred windows, clutching a ring of keys for doors leading into — but rarely out of — the asylum.
That’s the sort of image — one that was accurate not so long ago for how society dealt with the mentally ill — that nobody wants for the new Riverview.
We all want to treat the mentally ill with humanity and give them the hope the Victorian-era asylums smothered.
But in the age Nimbyism, when even small group homes often encounter the Not-In-My-Backyard reflex, it’s easier said than done to remake a massive old asylum. That’s why the provincial government is keeping the lid on what will be an entirely new approach to this social policy conundrum.
The idea the province has been quietly developing in private — plans have been circulating within the government — is modelled after what was done with an old asylum, similar to Riverview, in London, England.
Known today as Springfield Hospital, it initially opened in 1841 as the Surrey County Pauper Lunatic Asylum. The name said it all. Not unlike Riverview in its darkest years, it became notorious for the lock-them-in-and-throw-away-the-key philosophy to treating the mentally ill. Patients were in essence excluded from the rest of us. No wonder these buildings still seem to radiate bad karma.
But a heartening new approach was taken at Springfield. Why not bring the community into the asylum?
So the old Victorian buildings were redeveloped, a residential community of condos and apartments was built on — and around — the old asylum grounds. And the profits were used to build a modern psychiatric facility weaved into a real-world community. Patients’ neighbours will be more than just the dreaded Nurse Ratched.
“Historically, Springfield Hospital‘s purpose was to facilitate the exclusion of the mentally ill [from society], and that was defined very broadly,” Andrew Simpson, an official at the facility, has explained to The Journal of Addiction and Mental Health. “Now . . . we are historically reclaiming the asylum. We are quite deliberately building a new bit of London around the asylum, reversing the process of exclusion.”
It’s a marvelous and humane concept. Rich Coleman, the B.C. minister spearheading this project, deserves kudos for making the bold and progressive move to improve the lives of our most vulnerable. But there may be real questions of scale to deal with. Is the minister thinking too big?
The draft of the plans for Riverview obtained by The Vancouver Sun indicates Coleman is intent on a super-sized version of the Springfield model.
The heritage principles are there. There’s going to be complete preservation of the arboretum, and refits of many of the landmark buildings. But there’s also a multi-billion-dollar, multi-year building plan. There will be phalanxes of 20-plus-storey apartment towers, and dozens of smaller ones. My understanding is Coleman is even seeking higher density than on the draft obtained by The Sun, to maximize the taxpayers’ profit from the real-estate development.
What we’re talking about is something in the neighbourhood of 10,000 residences. That means 20,000 to 30,000 new residents for Coquitlam. Updated numbers floating around the government suggest about 2,000 of the residences would be for the mentally ill. They would live in the revamped institution, either as patients or benefitting from low-rise assisted-living lodges that would be scattered around the condos, a village square with retail store and even a school.
The government appears to be calling this Coquitlam Commons, a nice title that suggests the quaint British village model. But this, let’s face it, will virtually be a new town in the middle of what is now a sprawl of suburban homes. A new town, it should be added, with a sizeable part of British Columbia‘s mentally ill.
That will inevitably raise questions about security.
London‘s Springfield is justifiably hailed as a triumph, but there have been serious problems. Last year, the hospital was criticized for giving “too much liberty” to a patient who walked out of the ward and murdered a 50-year-old banker cycling in a park. In 2006, a fitness instructor was murdered by another of the hospital’s patients.
When it comes to marketing Riverview as a place to live, buyers are going to want assurances that won’t happen here.
There are also major urban planning issues. This massive makeover of Riverview raises the question of increased traffic congestion. Don’t be surprised if we see the creation of a SkyTrain stop in the new Riverview, once the new Evergreen commuter rail line gets built. I’ll bet that will be one of the deal-breaking demands of Coquitlam’s council if they embrace — or are forced by the province to accept — this plan.
In his old life, Coleman, B.C.’s minister in charge of social housing, used to work in the real estate business. As a cabinet minister, however, he’s now carving out deals on a scale he probably never imagined.
In fact, Coleman is probably only getting started. Riverview is probably just our first taste of how much this man might remake the urban landscape. What most people don’t know is that one of Coleman’s jobs is overseeing billions of dollars worth of provincial social-housing assets, many of them handed to the province by the federal government.
Once, when I asked him what he had planned for that property, he said two words: “More density.”
And that — along with the prospect of a cutting-edge psychiatric hospital — is what he’s aiming to deliver.
© The Vancouver Sun 2008
