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The Cult of Ugliness or why brutalist architecture is back in the spotlight

Are we becoming bored with sleek, glazed architecture based on parameters and algorithms? Is the growing reappreciation of brutalist architecture just a guilty pleasure to indulge in while actually admiring and designing the contemporary sustainable?

By Julia Korpacka

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Only after joining what I believe was the third or fourth social media group admiring brutalist architecture I realised that their members (me included) have a really, well, peculiar taste. What else could possibly explain flooding your wall with images of cheap and often severely derelict social housing, soviet monuments and heavyweight concrete megastructures from all over the world? Having been raised in Eastern Europe and now studying in the United Kingdom I will try to analyse the story behind the hype and discuss what it is like to live in béton brut.

How it all began

In the United Kingdom, the golden years of brutalist architecture fall between 1950s and 1970s when architects were challenged to rebuild the post-war world aiming for a socialist utopia – think high-rise, affordable (both in terms of construction and inhabiting) housing and public buildings. This somewhat Corbusier-esque approach to the society was, however, meant to be stripped of the modernist symbolism and philosophy of the 1930s, perceived by the system as bourgeois and unnecessarily expensive. Embracing raw concrete after which they are named1, the brutalists designed, inspired and encouraged by the newly built

Unité d’Habitation, London’s high-rise icons such as the Barbican Estate by Chamberlin, Powell and Bon, or Ernö Goldfinger’s Trellick Tower.

The rise of the high-rise

The famous Barbican, conceived in the 50s, built between the1960s and late 70s, was primarily intended to accommodate a mixed society of residents. However, due to the political changes, it has soon been sold almost entirely to private landlords and owners, and quickly established its reputation as a hip inner-city oasis for creatives and professionals. Rumour has it the Barbican has the highest density of architects’ flats per square metre in London. Central location, floor-to-ceiling windows, private and public gardens, world-class arts centre, carefully planned and detailed architecture – that’s what attracts the profession. I had a chance to talk with Živile and Ian who have lived in the Barbican for the past two years. She is a Part 1 Architect and he is an interior designer, hence their choice to rent a flat there was in no way accidental. ‘It is an architectural masterpiece and we have always wanted to live here, but we didn’t think we would’, Živile explains. ‘Before we moved here we lived in the Golden Lane Estate which is just around the corner2. It was a really nice housing estate, but since there is no communal space or garden, we really wanted to try the Barbican. Everything is so close, we can appreciate the city of London by actually living in it rather than travelling to it every day and we really enjoy it’. For both, the greatest advantage of living in the estate is the thought of the design. ‘It is the fact that it has been built as flats, not converted like the majority of London where there is always a bit of a compromise. The longer we have lived here, taking the time to observe things, we have come to realise that the flats have been carefully considered, there have been some proper decisions made, and they work. Like the kitchen – of course the appliances are new, but the furniture has lasted 40 years and it is still absolutely fine’, says Ian. There is only one thing they admit the Barbican lacks. ‘Those small high streets with little coffee shops, the bits that give you that local feel.’ ‘I think it was primarily considered’, Živile admits. ‘You see quite lot of those weird, empty spaces that were definitely intended to be a shop or a restaurant. Or the public area by the church, it clearly was intended to be like a town square of the estate, but there is just nothing going on there’, adds Ian. ‘It seems like the Barbican is becoming inhabited more and more by young people. With that vigorous, youthful approach, maybe they will start setting up markets and cafés, get more involved in the community life.’

The inspiring antihero

The Trellick Tower, however, also known as the Tower of Terror, owes its charming nickname to the troublesome residents who had caused this block of council flats to descend into crime, neglect and decay in the 1970s. It is said to have inspired J. G. Ballard to write ‘High-Rise’ – a novel, probably lesser known than the 2015 film under the same title starring Tom Hiddleston and Jeremy Irons. Moreover, this thrilling tale of Le Corbusier’s Ville Contemporaire meets human nature and goes terribly wrong is not the only British dystopia with brutalism in the background (Kubrick’s Clockwork Orange, anyone?). Fortunately for the Trellick Tower and to the horror of many, 1998 brought a twist in its story, listing this ‘monstrous disfigurement’ a Grade II* building. From then on, the infamous Tower of Terror has been slowly becoming a second, less prestigious and less charming but still classically brutal, version of the Barbican. They are now extremely desired estates not only because of central location and interesting architecture, but they actually turn out to be extremely convenient to live in. In the United Kingdom, that is. Brutalism of the postsoviet countries is a completely different story.

Behind the curtain

Let’s come back to 1950s. The general idea behind the postwar architecture of the Eastern Block was roughly the same, however known under the name of socialist modernism. Those buildings were far more politically expressive (in the case of public architecture) and of much poorer quality (in case of housing). The designs were incredibly versatile though, mostly due to the vast, culturally diverse area the USSR occupied. Ranging from ‘Manhattan’ housing complex in Wroclaw, Poland, through Eastern and Western Gates of Belgrade in Serbia, through the ‘Telephone Palace’ in Cluj-Napoca, Romania, to the Russian State Institute of Robotics and Technical Cybernetics in St. Petersburg. Today, there is a certain nostalgia to it. Not for the soviet times though. The generation of the 20-30 year olds is not restrained with the politically-charged baggage our parents and grandparents carry. Moreover, and that concerns both continental Europe and the UK, we don’t remember Ronan Point3 or the hardship and the paperthin party walls. Instead, we remember a brilliant childhood spent playing outside alongside a bunch of other kids from residential blocks from all around the neighbourhood. Hence, to the horror of the family, we now appreciate the creations of this infamous era.

Just a fashion?

Since the brutalist revival takes place mostly in the social media and operates rather by the means of visual art and merchandise than actual contemporary design, does it mean that we are yet to experience its ‘real-life’ comeback in architecture or is it just one of the ever-changing trends, like the 90s fashion being back in style? Can we use the clothing analogy – from the streets to the haute-couture runways? If so, it is now the street-style phase that will soon inspire the designers to incorporate some of the features of this trend in a better or worse fashion. Do we actually want it or should brutalism remain a cool part of the architectural history? You decide.

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