Before there was a city, a living landscape of rivers, creeks and brooks stretched north of Lake Ontario. For Indigenous peoples and early settlers alike, these waterways provided the stuff of life, supporting wildlife ecosystems while facilitating trade and development. As colonial Toronto grew, however, streams became open sewers, which were systematically channelized and buried throughout 19th and 20th centuries. Today, a rush of water beneath a grate, a jog in the street grid, a verdant ditch, a curve in the road or a thatch of cattails is often the only hint of a buried history. At the University of Toronto’s St. George Campus, however, a new Indigenous landscape symbolically unearths the landscape below.

Situated alongside the school’s expansive and much-publicized Landscape of Landmark Quality at King’s College Circle — a 20-acre re-imagination designed by KPMB and Michael van Valkenburgh Associates — the much smaller and comparatively understated Ziibiing quietly accomplishes a complementary yet equally meaningful transformation of the public realm. Situated immediately northeast of King’s Circle, the rolling 4,500-square-metre landscape creates a multi-use space for gathering, learning, reflection and ceremony.

Led by the Indigenous Design Studio at Brook McIlroy in collaboration with Indigenous plant medicine expert Joseph Pitawanakwat, Ziibiing officially opened to the public on September 23, inaugurated with a Traditional Opening by Elder Eileen Antone, and a Welcome Song by Jenny Blackbird. From its earliest origins, the project was guided by input from University of Toronto Elders (including the late author Lee Maracle), faculty, students and host nations.

At the heart and highest point of the landscape, a striking open-air pavilion furnishes a home for ceremonial fires and gatherings. An intuitive and inviting beacon, the pavilion is accented by a richly textured bronze soffit, etched with star constellation patterns that commemorate the sky world above. Back at grade, meanwhile, a generous selection of custom wood-top bench seating — made using reclaimed White Oak and Siberian Elm trees felled during the university’s expansive landscape rebuild — extends from the pavilion to the surrounding landscape, creating a teaching garden intended to inspire education about Indigenous plant medicine in an urban setting.

New trees, plants and shrubs throughout the landscape exclusively comprise Native flora, with the species marked by signage translated into Anishinaabe, Seneca, Latin, and English. Throughout the landscape, Trail Marker Trees — used by many Indigenous peoples to indicate important landmarks, such as water sources — provide another layer of cultural meaning. As for Taddle Creek? From the pavilion, a long stone rill stretches down into the lower-lying landscape, collecting rainwater from the pavilion canopy and harnessing it into lush rain gardens. Honouring the memory of Taddle Creek, the natural water feature subtly recreates the stream that once animated the site and still flows underground.

According to Brook McIlroy Indigenous Design Studio principal Ryan Gorrie, the project marks a step towards the decolonization of the educational landscape. “The burying of the land and waters of Taddle Creek was synonymous with the burying of Indigenous culture,” says Gorrie. “The impetus for the project was: How do we get more Indigenous representation in spaces that are in otherwise colonial institutions? And doing so in consultation with advisory committees and elders to improve not only visibility but also opportunities for outdoor education, teaching and learning events, and to really bring Indigenous knowledge to the forefront of the campus.” Named for the Anishinaabemowin word for “river,” Ziibiing rekindles a latent spirit and a living history.