Two visitors to the exposition, on separate days, asked the same question. “Is it a religious cross?”
Architect and urban researcher Paige Wen had spent more than a year studying the shape that Yonge and Bloor make across Toronto. She had examined it through maps, streets, property lines and infrastructure, but had never seen a crucifix. It took someone walking into the exhibition to point it out.

Origins of the Invisible Cross
In August 2026, Wen presented The Invisible Cross of Toronto at Toronto TAIWANfest, Harbourfront Centre. The project, originally published as a four-part series on Toronto Spark, traces how the cross that every Torontonian navigates by was never designed. Yonge was a 12,000-year-old trail before it was a street. The Park Lots of 1793 fixed the east-west lines. Bloor spent a century as the city’s edge before horsecars and annexation turned it into a corridor. The subway inherited the cross, one arm in 1954, the other twelve years later.
What the four articles had not fully addressed was the scale beyond the city. Yonge was not simply a Toronto street. It was also a meridian for the colonization of Southern Ontario: the coordinate line from which concession roads were measured across the territory. In Toronto, that territorial line became part of the city’s everyday orientation system.

Interpreted by P. Wen, based on James Cane, Toronto Reference Library, 1842
Finding the Right Words
During the talk, with the room full and a few people standing at the back, one audience member described how he had used Yonge and Bloor while apartment-hunting. He had unconsciously used the cross to orient each choice: which side of Yonge, how far from Bloor. The lecture had given him the word for what he had been doing.
The fourth article in the series concluded that Torontonians navigate the cross but cannot read it. His story suggested otherwise. He had been reading it all along. He just couldn’t put it into words. What was missing was the vocabulary.

The Other Cross
At the exposition, an urban designer pointed out another cross: Dundas and Yonge. Dundas, too, belonged to Simcoe’s colonial road-making project. It was planned as a military and settlement corridor running westward from York (today’s Toronto) toward London, the inland capital Simcoe hoped to establish. One road extended north from Toronto; the other reached west across the province. The city eventually built a major crossing on each.
The difference is scale. The Dundas cross operates at the level of street experience: the scramble crossing, the crowds, the concentration of people and activity. You feel it as a pedestrian. That is why Sankofa Square, formerly Yonge-Dundas Square, sits there. The Bloor cross operates at the scale of infrastructure: subway lines, the grid, the orientation system. Yonge, as a colonial meridian, operates at yet another scale: a territorial line once used to organize surveying, settlement, and land division. Two crosses, different scales, and beneath both, the same vertical arm.

A Mirror
At the exposition, strangers stopped and read. Not skimmed. They bent over figure-ground maps, read story cards about how soil from the Bloor subway tunnel was used to fill Garrison Creek’s ravine, and how Spadina’s name comes from the Ojibwe word for a sudden rise of land. The cross became visible through accumulation: panel by panel, story by story, the same way the cross itself was built.
Wen came to Toronto in 2015 as a newcomer and learned to navigate by Yonge and Bloor before she understood why those two lines organize everything. The research started as an investigation into a hidden structure. At TaiwanFest, the audience suggested that this experience was not only hers. Visitors did not need to know about the Park Lots, Simcoe’s roads, or the history of the subway to use the cross. They already understood where they were in relation to it.
The cross was never hidden. They were already reading.
The Invisible Cross of Toronto was presented at Toronto TAIWANfest 2026, Harbourfront Centre. The four-part series is available on Decoding Toronto.
Further Reading
This essay reflects on the public presentation of The Invisible Cross of Toronto. The original four-part series was first published on Toronto Spark:
- Yonge Street Was Never Just a Street: The 12,000-Year-Old Trail Beneath the Grid
- We Live Inside an Old Property Map: The 1793 Estates That Jogged Toronto’s Streets
- How Yonge and Bloor Stopped Being the Edge: From a Muddy Frontier to the Scramble Crossing
- Toronto’s Invisible Grid: How Yonge and Bloor Shaped the City


