A Toronto Zoo building that apes the rainforest

Open this photo in gallery:

The smart Sumatran doesn’t venture outside if temperatures dip below 10 C. And, on this day, with the humidity making the -1 C feel much colder, the seven Toronto-based Sumatrans aren’t exploring their new, Zeidler Architecture-designed space with the same curiosity as they did in mid-summer.

And, even then, only the oldest female, Puppe, was brave enough to venture outside on a regular basis: “She walked; she climbed her own line; she was exploring our towers; she was using enrichment,” says Olivia Franzin.

“It was a good day,” agrees Amy Naylor. “And she’s our littlest one.”

“The boys were quite timid,” adds Ms. Franzin.

Then again, Puppe, at 56, is not only the wisest and bravest orangutan at the Toronto Zoo, she’s also the oldest in North America. Experienced and confident, as only a mother of five and grandmother of six can be. So, it’s not surprising that when the immersive, natural and fully outdoor space opened this past July, she not only charged past the others to claim it, but she also shot a look back to her human friends that seemed to say: “This was here the whole time? Why didn’t you let me out before?”

In 1974, when the Toronto Zoo opened to great fanfare – the groundbreaking design by Ron Thom, Clifford & Lawrie, and Crang & Boake was unlike anything the city had seen before – Puppe and her orangutan pals had to content themselves with an indoor, sky-lit space. Good for climbing and cavorting, but not for cloud-gazing, exploring, or sun tanning.

Recently, however, the green light was given to transform an unused patch of land (not far from the indoor habitat) into an immersive space where both the zoo’s human visitors and the seven resident orangutans could thrive. “How do we create a habitat that was as true to what orangutans would experience … and the guest experience,” says architect Edward Chan, a partner at Zeidler who worked with zoological advisers Jones & Jones Architects in Seattle. “We want someone to walk through the habitat and really, not just live it, but take home the message about conservation.”

Zoo visitors won’t have trouble finding the new space. Even while they’re admiring the rhinos, there’s a chance Budi or Kembali might be swinging on a cable 75-feet overhead to plop down on one of the new towers with the leaf-shaped roof. Think of it “as three separate living spaces,” says Ms. Naylor, the zoo’s media relations officer: An aerial-only space before guests arrive at the Indo-Malaya Pavilion; The new 13,000-square-foot outdoor space – complete with hills, streams, edible plants, fire hose to climb along; And, third, the ladder-equipped towers placed within that habitat. And it’s all just a few feet away from the fake rock that separates visitors from the hirsute residents.

“It’s concrete, it’s a special technique,” Mr. Chan says about the rock. “They go in there and they hand-paint it to make it look like real rocks; some of rocks inside the habitat are real rocks [but] the main surrounding form is sprayed concrete.”

And since orangutans are semi-solitary and given freedom of choice as to how to fill their days, each visit (for humans) will be different, says animal welfare research assistant Ms. Franzin: “You open a door for an orangutan, you give them the opportunity to go out. … We’re still working on getting them all used to it, we have different characters, different personalities.”

Some, continues Ms. Franzin, love humans so much they’ll wait for a crowd to gather before doing something showy, while others will keep to themselves and, perhaps, get busy building a nest for napping. But, despite this, the orangutans will never be very far away … and, sometimes, they’ll be right at eye level.

“When you’re up on this platform over here,” says Ms. Naylor, “and Puppe is right there, you’re really very close to her; there’s nothing in between you except air, and you really do connect on a new level.”

And that’s the point. Unlike the static zoo experience of a century ago, it’s about placing people in a simulated Borneo forest habitat to stimulate conversation. A conversation, perhaps, about how there are less than 15,000 Sumatran orangutans in the wild, so, in 2017, their conservation status was changed from “endangered” to “critically endangered”; or how the Toronto Zoo has partnered with PanEco Foundations’ Sumatran Orangutan Conservation Programme.

Or some might simply ask what they might donate beyond money, to which Ms. Franzin will answer “hats and blankets and bedding; chalk is a big one, orangutans love chalk – they love to draw, they love to colour – they love to break it,” she says with a laugh.

And while Toronto’s magnificent seven orangutans likely won’t be out in their new habitat again until March, the project, which started construction in 2020, has enriched the lives of the humans that were involved: “I’ve never done a project with animals being the end user,” Mr. Chan says with a laugh. “So it was definitely a learning experience.”

“I feel like the habitat really did serve its purpose from a guest experience point of view,” finishes Ms. Naylor, “because I found that the people who came through here – and I am in no way an expert like these guys are – they were asking me a lot of questions too.”