What makes a building memorable long after the paint dries?

Mail & Guardian

2 days ago

Imagine 17!: Not all architecture is appealing, such as the Disa Towers in front of Table Mountain. But even these buildings invoke people's memories. Photo: Supplied
Everyone remembers the corridors of their school and the distinct smell of specific classrooms. If you've ever been divorced, I am certain you will never forget those cold courtroom walls as you went in to finalise the legal process. It's hard to forget the home where your baby took her very first steps. And one cannot possibly erase the feeling of time spent within hospital walls, where the happiest of hellos and hardest of goodbyes intertwine.
Buildings shape us and live inside us as the years go by.
Cities with their people and properties evolve through human stories.
South Africa, with its rich layers, contradictions, and painfully beautiful potential, is bursting with spaces that people have emotionally connected with for centuries.
As I stood inside a heritage building last week at a property launch, I was reminded of just how many of Cape Town's buildings are not just structures but characters in the city's ever-evolving plot. I looked at the 120-year-old solid, bulky wooden beams above me and admired the original sun-dried brick walls —almost two centuries of history right at my very feet.
And now, this building will receive a new lease on life as she enters her new chapter. She will become a modern apartment block. The developer will combine the old with the new, transforming this heritage building into something inspiring. They will incorporate modern, contemporary design, all the while maintaining the extraordinary façade with its vintage architectural charm.
Have you ever sat and thought about the buildings in our cities and how they came to be?
Let's take those three tall towers (known affectionately by Capetonians as the Tampon Towers) perched awkwardly at the base of the Mother City's iconic Table Mountain. I have tweeted a lot about these pepper pots, and the general consensus is that people either really love or really hate the towers.
This controversial trio of architecture, officially known as Disa Park, is situated in Vredehoek, Cape Town. Big and brutalist in look and feel, it was designed by the architectural firm Bergamasco, Duncan & James. The towers were cylindrical in shape to withstand the strong Cape Town winds that are experienced in this section of Vredehoek.
Some see them as charming reminders of youthful independence: their first-ever student digs, where they shaped the early days of their lives. Even today, those who live there love the towers' close proximity to nature trails and the cosmopolitan vibe of the Mother City.
Others view them as visual intrusions on one of the world's natural wonders. Some of my Twitter, now X, followers have said the building sways when gale-force winds blow, and sometimes, a window or two has blown out.
Did you know that the original plan was to build 17 of these towers at the base of Table Mountain?
And have you ever wondered why three towers of this size were allowed to be built this high and so close to the base of Table Mountain?
There is, of course, a fascinating story behind all of my above questions.
Back in the 1960s and 1970s, Cape Town was dealing with a 'white housing' shortage under apartheid. More housing needed to be built specifically in areas designated for white residents. In an effort to speed up construction and encourage development, the government suspended many building restrictions and relaxed zoning regulations in white group areas.
Developers took full advantage and started building much taller buildings than was previously allowed. Cape Town then experienced a surge in high-rise developments.
Murray & Roberts, the company behind the construction of Disa Towers, found a loophole. They built the base of the towers just below the legal development line at the foot of Table Mountain, then went upward. They were able to bypass height restrictions legally, and technically.
Thankfully, only three towers were built, namely: Blinkwater, Platteklip and Silverstroom. Construction was completed in 1969.
Each one has 18 storeys and is 54.86m high. The diameter of each tower is 24.384m. Amenities include a tennis court, squash court, swimming pool and braai area.
With a total of 287 apartments and 340 parking bays, the cost to build this development at the time was R3 million.
The third tower took just 63 days to build. If only we could close a pothole in record-breaking times such as this.
And what was the monthly rent for an apartment in Disa Towers back then? R55 to R160 a month. This rate included water and electricity.
The son of the National Party finance minister at the time — Nico Diederichs — was a junior partner in the company that developed Disa Park. The conspiracists say his involvement could have also contributed to these controversial towers being built at this location.
Today, those towers remind us of a complicated era — one where architectural ambition often trumped environmental and social ethics. But they also reflect how policy shapes our skylines, for better or worse.
Other notable buildings built during this cowboy period of development include Blouberg Heights, an extremely tall block that stands out like a sore thumb in the coastal suburb's landscape.
Blouberg Heights, built in the 1970s, is 17 storeys high and is on Sir David Baird Drive in Bloubergstrand, Cape Town. It is the only building of its kind in this area, as other structures are much lower.
Gardens Centre Tower is on Mill Street and Upper Buitenkant Street, Gardens, Cape Town. It was also built in the 1970s during this era of the 'white housing' crisis. It was completed in 1973, measuring 81m with 22 floors.
This erf was once the home of the International Hotel before it was transformed into a residential tower with a shopping centre component.
Last, the well-known Twin Towers in Sea Point were also built during this period of relaxed regulation. These two identical towers are right next to each other on Beach Road. All this was done in the name of alleviating the housing shortage for the white people, who were the only ones permitted to live in these areas.
It's crazy to think that these developments were all built as a solution to a housing crisis at the time, yet their effect on the Cape Town skyline will be experienced by so many generations to come. They've left a significant imprint on the city's urban history.
Perhaps they are a fundamental lesson for us all when it comes to the sustainability and essence of urban planning and design.
Not all buildings are pretty. Not all histories are happy. But they all deserve to be heard.
The concrete and steel don't just support floors. They support stories. They tell us who we were, how we lived, and if we're paying attention, what we should carry forward.
Sometimes in our rush to innovate, we forget to anchor.
We want smarter buildings, ROI, the latest tech and green ratings. Buildings shouldn't only help us move forward; they should also help us look back. Urban development should always listen to a place's heartbeat before changing its face.
In the end, people don't remember square metres.
They remember how a place made them feel. How a room held their joy or sorrow.
How a view reminded them of something they'd forgotten.
Ask Ash examines South Africa's property, architecture and living spaces. Continue the conversation with her on email (