Mingxuan Ge Dissertation by PDF Uploads

THE

BRUTAL

SECRETS THE HIDDEN INFLENCE: FROM SECOND WORLD WAR MILITARY STRUCTURES TO POST-WAR ARCHITECTURE

Mingxuan Ge 1

The Brutal Secrets The hidden influence: From Second World War military structures to post-war architecture

Mingxuan Ge Student: 180255856 ARC 3060 School of Architecture, Planning & Landscape, Newcastle University

Dissertation tutor: Jianfei Zhu Dissertation word count: 8103 Covid research adaptation account - p.3.

Acknowledgements: I would like to thank professor Jianfei Zhu for the continuous support and guidance.

Covid research adaptation account: The covid pandemic has initially brought inconvenience to my dissertation’s research, since libraries were closed and have become difficult to access. The initial study of my dissertation relied on available journals and articles that can be retrieved online. I have also managed to buy some of the books at an affordable price on several online bookstores during the lockdown. Also, I have tried browsing through several online libraries for useful books and resources to help my dissertation writings. Professor Jianfei Zhu has also helped me immensely by giving me constant feedback and guidance. Overall, I feel that I have adapted the situation along the way which gave me the confidence to continue my dissertation despite the difficulties.

CONTENTS Acknowledgement

Covid research adaptation account

Introduction

Chapter 1 - History of WWII German Defensive Military Structures

WWII Bunkers: A Brief Introduction

9 10 12 16

Forms and Function Concrete and Construction Aesthetics and Appeal

Chapter 2 - Post-war architecture and its influence from WWII Bunkers The rise of Béton Brut Virilio and Beyond

23 30

Chapter 3 - Contingent or Coincident?

Why concrete?

Mental Picture and Portrayal

34 36 38 39

Conclusion

Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay

Béton Brut Expression Symbolic and Scale

20 21

Fig 1: Building the Atlantic Wall

Introduction

Military defensive fortifications and bunkers have been disregarded in mainstream architectural discourse. One reason for this is because we do not usually see these structures as often, and architects no longer need to build these fortified structures. Nevertheless, these defensive infrastructures played a significant role in WWII. One prominent example would be the German Atlantic Wall fortifications. The strategic defence planning, to protect the possible invasion from the Allies, brought great attention to the construction of the fortifications. The World War II has left a detrimental impact on the human history. The “total war” between 1939 and 1945 was the deadliest global conflict ever witnessed, bringing immense destruction across the world. The Atlantic Wall is named the “most ambitious” work of fortification in the history that has “breathtaking” scale, and needed extensive amounts of manpower and resources. Defensive infrastructures are an interesting and varied field to explore. For example bunkers, as the omnipresent political space that was heavily influenced by War and Geopolitics, have numerous influences. They are not only known for their functional values to the war, but also their aesthetic values being very influential to the post-war architectural development.1 The steady acceleration in construction techniques, and material understanding during the war, doubtless brought about new technology and construction methods 2, as well as fresh ideas and perceptions on the use of reinforced concrete. For the past few decades, many notable scholars have done intense research on the bunkers that survived. The political space, which initially was left unnoticed, has become increasingly popular in

1 Paul Virilio and Sylvère Lotringer, ‘After Architecture: A Conversation’, Grey Room, 3(2001), 32-53 (36) 2 Trout, Edwin A.R. ‘The Deutscher Ausschuß Für Eisenbeton (German Committee for Reinforced Concrete), 1907-1945. Part 2: Between the Wars.’ Construction History, 29 (2014), 83–102 (88).

Fig 2: Atlantic wall border

recent years. One of the most important contributors to the topic of WWII bunkers is Paul Virilio and his influential Bunker Archeology, first released in French in 1975 and translated into English in 1994. Virilio is a cultural theorist, architect and artistic philosopher, who has collated documentations on the abandoned WWII German Bunkers along the French coast. Virilio’s research pieced together the nature of warfare and the geopolitical essence of bunkers, as well as their aesthetic quality in a contemporary perspective.

Fig 3: Observation post in Channel Isalnd

The first part of my thesis will delve deeper into the studies and understanding of the defensive military infrastructures, predominantly on the German fortifications in WWII: their function, construction, form, and aesthetic quality. The second part focuses more on the relationship of such military infrastructures to the later post-war development of Brutalist architecture. Virilio’s work, his notable theories and The Church of St. Bernadette in Nevers (1963-1966) will be critically evaluated amongst others who contributed to the discourse of wartime architecture and postwar reconstruction. The key intention is to draw plausible links that connect both type of architecture from their materiality, construction and aesthetics.

Chapter One: History of WWII German Defensive Military Structures

WWII Bunkers: A Brief Introduction

The fortification structure which was most crucial and prevalent in WWII defence strategy was the bunkers. One significant example of using bunkers as a defensive strategy was the Atlantic Wall, which stretched all the way from the Norway coastline to the Spanish boarder, at about 1700 miles long. Hitler was persuaded that a strong and cohesive line of defence was at paramount importance, due to the potential for an Allied costal invasion. The construction of the Atlantic Wall is was largely led by Organisation Todt (OT), named after the German engineer Fritz Todt (1891-1942) who oversaw the organisation during the war. OT consisted of engineers, soldiers, workers, and prisoners of war. During the Nazi administration, Todt was appointed the Inspector General of the German Motorways, and took over the responsibility for the construction of the West Wall in 1938. Just within two years into building the Atlantic Wall, 140000 bunkers were built, and more than 189,000,000 cubic feet of concrete was used.3 Todt passed away in 1942 in a plane crash, so Albert Speer took over the remaining work on the Atlantic Wall. The enormous amount of human resources, and time that was committed into the construction of bunkers along the coast of continental Europe and Scandinavia, reflected the importance of coastal defence by Hitler against a potential Allied invasion. The bunkers exist in many forms and shapes; they all have different sizes, shapes, openings, and functions.4 For example, the

3 Handbook of the Organisation Todt (O.T), (London: MIRS-LONDON, 1945), p.6

nature and function of battlefield bunkers and air-raid shelters are polar opposites. Battlefield bunkers tend to respond to crossfire; hence the structures are equipped with projectiles and guns. To contrast, air raid shelters are mainly designed to protect civilians and their valuables from falling bombs. Despite the differences in their functions, all these bunkers played an essential role throughout WWII. The bunker as a political space thrived throughout the war, acting both as a “survival machine” for the soldiers and to psychologically prepare the civilians for potential air raids .5 The Atlantic Wall still exists today, as a left-over desolation. Once a survival machine, it is now an unoccupied monolithic “ruins on the Atlantic coast. The bunkers are often revisited by many architectural theorists, searching for the right answer of the philosophical query of total war and the temporality of such bunkers. In this chapter, a series of Nazi bunkers will be critically explored in detail for its form, construction and aesthetics. To critically question the existence these bunkers as unique typology to influence and link the prewar and post-war years, these bunkers serve as a catalyst: continuing to define and redefine the architectural development during and after WWII.

5 Bradley Garrett and Ian Klinke, ‘Opening the bunker: function, materiality, temporality’, Oxford University, 2008, 1-17

4 J.E Kaufmann and H.W Kaufman, Fortress Third Reich, (USA: Da Capo Press, 2003), p.219

Form and Functions

The Atlantic Wall has an estimated 14,000 reinforced concrete bunkers, which varied in forms and functions. These bunkers included: troop shelters, combat bunkers, observation tower, command bunkers, fire-control bunkers, depot bunkers, combat headquarters and U-boat bases. One of the unique features of the bunker is that it is one of the “rare modern monolithic architecture” .6 Although the Atlantic Wall bunkers vary in styles and types, the monolithic nature and character of each of them is identical. This monolithic feature aligns with their functions and the exposed environment, which is vulnerable for invasive attacks and impact from bombings. These bunkers have a generally low centre of gravity, to assist the prevention of excessive movements during impact. The reinforced concrete bunkers have walls up to five metres thick and roofs with softened edges and fluid and form. Most of the bunkers have a similar style of rounded corners and “chelonian form.” The fluid and sculptural form was intended to prevent dropping bombs from causing excessive damage.7 For instance, the bold and solid appearance of the mass concrete has a strong dialogue with the “fluid and plastic” medium, which resulted in the variation in forms. The polarity of being simultaneously hard and soft, provided better integration to the topography and site. The fluidity in expression of the mass concrete made Nazi bunkers were very different from the French and English bunkers. For example, the English bunkers, concrete was used in a “utilitarian and unimaginative” way, because it was not intended to be a fluid and sculptural medium for expression.8 These different variations of German bunkers were designed according to

6 Paul Virilio, Bunker archelogy, trans. by George Collins, (New York: Princeton architectural press, 2019), p.37 7 Virilio and Lotringer, After Architecture: A Conversation, p. 36. 8 Paul Hirst, ‘The Defence of Places: Fortification as Architecture [Part 2].’ AA Files, no. 34 (1997), 6–17(15)

Fig 4: Individual shelter on the North Sea

Fig 5: Firing control tower in the Landes

Fig 6: Flak Tower in Augarten

Fig 7: Obervation post in Channel Islands

Fig 8: U-Boat pens at Brest

their intended functions. The structural integrity, openings and geographical positioning were all planned with a clear intention, hence the Nazi bunkers have specified value to modernity and are regarded as an “icon of modernity”. For example, the observation and command towel has parallels with Le Corbusier’s visions for placement of horizontal windows. As a result, they offered a new perspective of the world. In the bunkers, the horizontal openings are in place to suit the eye movement of the observer through the theatricality of the “total war” while looking over the horizon.9 These similarities and coherence tended to be less technical but more culturally related, which embodied certain qualities of modernity. Consequently, these bunkers were not designed to be temporary concrete masses of war machines; they were built to last for centuries. The ranges of German fortification that were built were not only different in form but also in scale. The scale of the bunker ranged from a tiny pillbox to large air-raid shelters, U-boat bases and flak towers. The increase in scale of the different fortifications was also a reason that made the Atlantic Wall project so one of a kind. The diverse type of bunkers that have different forms and scales gave even more opportunity to ensure the quality and quantity of these fortifications was produced. Many of these massive military infrastructures are still present in many European major cities today. The existence of thesegigantic monolithic structures share disturbing similarities with the post-war brutalist residential developments. Scale has become an integral part of the discussion concerning the relationship between the influence of WWII fortifications to the post-war Brutalist architecture.

9 Gennaro, Postiglione, The Atlantic Wall: bunker and/as modern architecture, Politecnico di Milano (2007), 1-6(2)

Concrete and Construction

In 1942, the construction of the Atlantic Wall began after the official announcement from Fuhrer directive Number 40. Hitler insisted that the defence strategy of the coast included protecting the coastal waters ‘’within the range of medium coastal artillery.” Enemy troops landing on the coast needed to be eliminated and “throw back into the sea by immediate counterattack.” Defensive structures needed to be situated at places “most likely to be chosen by the enemy for landings”. All the defensive points must be defended “to the last man” and there should be no “surrender” in any situation.10 The determination was clear, and the five thousand kilometres strong line of defence that stretches from Norway to the Spanish border was constructed. Between May 1942 and December 1943, the focus on building the Atlantic Wall became Germany’s primary concern. Just less than a year into the construction, the concrete consumption was increased seven times in total .11 OT played an important role in the construction of the Atlantic Wall; they worked closely with the army engineers and fortress engineers during the production. The army engineers had to plan the location for the site, the bunker design, and the installation blueprints. The fortress engineers had to prepare the installation of the artillery and all mechanical parts of the weapon.

10 Kaufmann, p.194. 11 Handbook of OT, p.6.

Fig 9: Hitler and Fritz Todt, 1934

Fig 10: France and Belgium Atlantic Wall under construction

Fig 11: Workers building the Atlantic Wall

The OT responsibilities lay in the actual construction of the bunkers: complying and following the plans provided by the engineers. Civilians and war prisoners completed the main structure and interior, as well as transporting the construction materials to site. Although the planning and design of the bunkers were extensive and promising, the actual construction and building were done rapidly mostly by untrained workers and forced labourers. Furthermore, the local supply of aggregate with proper sizes are were in shortage due to limited supply and damaged transportation system. In many events sand from along the Atlantic coastline was used as substitute which was much weaker and easily crumbled during bombardment. The haste in construction resulted in many unprecedented problems to the construction process of the Atlantic Wall; hence, the quality control was jeopardised. This also reflects the nature of concrete construction, execution, and precision: it did not require workers that are highly skilled and trained to produce such structures.

Fig 12: Supervising the Atlantic Wall construction

Before the concrete was poured, wooden forms are needed to hold the concrete in place. Large amounts of timber boards were pieced together in order to create intended shape of the formwork. Reinforced concrete is a mixture of concrete and metal mesh. The metal mesh form must be constructed before the concrete mixture can be poured onto it. The additional metal structure inside the concrete gives additional strength to concrete, which will then withstand more impact. The pouring process begins with the foundation, followed by the walls, and finally the roof. The process was done consistently, in one attempt, so that it ensured the strength of the structure. The surface of the bunkers often have rough textures, which are associated with speed and efficiency. It often demonstrates the process of creating and transforming the fluid properties of concrete into a solid fortification. The rough textures which reflect the wooden imprints became an interesting architectural talking point after the war. The textures were part of new discussions that drew attention to their unique beauty. They also were widely used and presented during the post-war reconstruction in architecture and infrastructures. The speed and standard of the construction of these military infrastructures came with continuous development and testing. During the Nazi regime, the uninterrupted advancement of concrete construction resulted an escalation of research into concrete technology from 1930s to early 1940s.12 Concrete as an important construction material

12 Trout, Between the Wars, Construction History, 29 (2014), p. 88.

Fig 13: Atlantic Wall bunker construction process

Fig 14: Wireframing the overall form of the Atlantic Wall bunker

Otto Graf´s research

states also that concrete with a large amount of coarse aggregate does nk than another one with a high content of fine material. However, the lity of the concrete should be improved [2]. Fig. 1 shows a concrete ction with 26% by vol. sand in the aggregates [3].

H. W. REINHARDT

ered the bending strength. An important criterion is fineness of the cement. Fig. 2 shows the influence of the fineness of the cement on the compressive strength, the bending strength, and on shrinkage.

Fig. 1. Concrete cross-section with 26% by vol. sand in the aggregates [3]

e use of cement is a very important subject and Otto Graf has formulated estions at the beginning of a publication in 1935 [4]:

h properties define the quality of a cement for concrete roads?

he results of standard tests on cement sufficient for the assessment of uitability?

h tests are necessary additionally to standard testing?

Otto Graf´s research

Fig. 2. Influence of fineness on the properties of cement [5] 1

do we find suitable cements for concrete roads? It is obvious that finer cement increases the compressive strength at 28

can days the asconsumer judgestrength. whether a delivered well as the bending However, a finer cementcement causes alsois an especially suitincrease of shrinkage. Graf requires that the compressive strength of a cement or concrete roads? should be 45 MPa at the age of 28 days and the bending strength should be at

least the 5.5 MPa. In [6], the requirements werebe given more precisely and Graf should acceptance of cements organised?

during WWII was widely used, not only for military infrastructures but also for bridges, roads, and motorway networks. The Deutscher Ausschuß für Eisenbeton (German Committee for Reinforced Concrete) was particularly involved in the research in reinforced concrete through the years of war. Important members such as Otto Graf (1881-1956), contributed to the technical advancement of concrete that supported the highway programme of the 1930s. His research achievement played an important role during the post war reconstruction, which provided insights into the new generations of German engineers.13 All in all, war was not only time for destruction. Concurrently, it was time for production, producing new ways of treating concrete and new technologies to strengthen reinforced concrete as a need for warfare infrastructures. Building the bunkers as a line of defence was a demanding task. Yet the consequent improvement in concrete technologies carried its legacy beyond the war when concrete began to thrive in building industries and rebuilding homes in the aftermath.

points on the cracking, for instance due to capillary stresses during the summer.

He states already 1937 [7] that the production control in the cement factory is construction? development ofinroad cements only important for the road as important as the standard testing independent laboratories.

In 1935 [8] he published a paper on the most important parameters which determine the concrete strength. Fig. 3 shows the plot of the compressive found thatof concrete test results standard tests to find out strength as functionof of the water-cement ratio. are It can not be seensufficient that the strength is mainly determined by the water-cement ratio. On the other hand, the a cement is especially suited for concrete roads. He designed tests in scatter of results is important. He states also that the sand content of the concrete Fig. 3. Compressive strength of concrete as function of the water-cement ratio is important. Especially as the amount of sand exceeds 50%, the strength of conhe specimens were stored in a cyclic moisture environment. Some ceFig 15: Otto Graf’s reserach in reinforced crete is much concrete, less.

ere superior than others in the bending test. Obviously shrinkage influ-

showing concrete cross-section with 26% sand in strength deOtto carried out unit cyclic He found that theeigenstresses concrete 1 results 2tests. e testGraf large shrinkage caused which lowThroughout thesuch paper thethat kg/cm should be converted to 0.1 MPa. aggregates , influence of fineness on properties es due to cyclic testing, especially as the first million of cycles is con1211 of cement and compressive strength of concrete Otto-Graf-Journal Vol. 14, 2003 d. The strengthasdrops from original valueratio to about 80%. Fig. 4 shows function of the water-cement agram which illustrates the reduction of compressive strength due to 5 n cycles. It is a Goodman-diagram with the upper stress at the top of the . 13 Trout, Between the Wars, Construction History, 29 (2014), p. 99.

Fig. 4. Goodman-diagram of concrete [8]

Shrinkage is of paramount importance for road concrete because it may large eigenstresses in a concrete slab. Graf investigated several cements ound in Fig. 5 that there are large differences as shrinkage of cement is rned. Cement a shows a shrinkage of about 0.8 · 103 whereas cement e s a shrinkage of 1.5 · 103. As Fig. 5 shows that the tests lasted 10 years.

Aesthetics and Appeal

The horrific, frightening, and dystopic nature of the bunkers emit an aura of its aftermath aesthetic qualities. These fortifications are described as one of the most original and influential “art” created during the national socialism imperium. The artistic value in these bunkers is mythical and accidental, almost like “proto-art” waiting to transform .14 Their aesthetic value has the potential to provide new perspectives of the post-war civilian world. While the large majority of the bunkers are constructed with reinforced concrete, not all the bunkers are presented as a solid concrete monolith. Some of the bunkers are cladded with stones and fitted with ornamentation. This is because the head architect Albert Speer designed some of these bunkers according to the ‘Theory of Ruin Value’ (Ruinenwert). The additional stones and ornaments are used to blend in with the existing cities and context. By bringing in additional materials to satisfy the Ruinenwert exposed the downside of concrete, it does not blend in well with the context. It therefore struggles to possess the quality that can age into beautiful ruins that can coexist with the context. As compared to the English bunkers, the English fortifications were both “pragmatic and convinced.” Concrete was used in a utilitarian way, which has implications that the war was “temporary.” However, the German bunkers were portrayed with a sense of long-lasting pride, when considering the ‘Theory of Ruin Value’. 15 Even so, the vision of creating ruins in the future has flaws in its application because it results in contradictory relationships between the cruel

14 Jonathan Meades, Bunkers Brutalism and Bloodymindedness: Concrete Poetry, (London:BBC, 2014) 15 Hirst, p. 16.

“Why continued to be inspired by Le Corbusier form of modern architecture? Why speak of “brutalism”? All, above all, why this ordinary habitat, so very ordinary over so many years?” Bunker Archaeology Paul Virilio, 1994

Fig 16: Raw concrete expression of Atlantic Wall Bunker

Fig 17: Close-up view on raw concrete texture

“survival machine” nature of bunkers and the “imagination of future ruins.” This contradiction became almost ironic, by comparing the term which made the bunkers horrific in beauty which inevitably restricting them to be ‘ruins’.16

Fig 18: Le Corbusier’s early beton brut work on Assembly, Chandingarh, 1950

Fig 19: Detail view on beton brut expression

Often these bunkers have been compared to Le Corbusier brutalism.17 The black and white images by Vrilio which consist of rough wooden imprints on the concrete produced a rough texture that parallels with Le Corbusier passion for Beton Brut expression. Not only did Virilio picture the Third Reich’s Atlantic Wall as aesthetic ruins, but the fortifications were also deemed as a “crucial precursor” to the “functionality” of post-war brutalist architecture.18 These monoliths appeared long before the rise of new brutalism during the post-war period and its aesthetic quality should be valued, and not diminished. The intention for these crude imprints on the concrete surface for the Nazi bunkers is for functional purposes, as it can provide a certain level of camouflage into the landscape.19 However, the conscious application of these rough imprint textures on Le Corbusier’s new brutalism expression is not justified for any functional reasons. It is simply for the aesthetic appreciation. From these textures, we can understand the honesty of the architecture from a construction point of view: such as the mixture of concrete and the form work from a liquid state to a solid state.

16 Zygmunt Bauman, ‘Survival as a Social Construct’, Theory, Culture and Society, 9 (1992), 1-36 17 Hirst, p. 15. 18 Bradley Garrrett and Ian Klinke, p. 5. 19 Kaufmann, p. 201.

One other beauty about the bunkers is their interaction with the site. These bunkers are unable to return to their intended functions of war infrastructures, because the functionless archetype re-existed solely for aesthetic purposes and reconnecting its relationship with the landscape and topographical order. 20 Most of these bunkers can be found along the coastal region along continental Europe and Scandinavia, often position staggered apart rather than agglomerated. Each of these 15,000 concrete monoliths exudes a sense of loneliness, which recedes into the pure form of wide-open landscape. The beauty amplified after the war as many of these bunkers were fallen and sink into the sand. The geographical and topographical positions make these structures emit the beauty of being alone, and poetically portraying their immobile resistance and tenacious character.

Fig 20: Fallen Atlantic Wall Bunker

Barbara M. Stafford. “Toward tion: Illustrated Travels and t Aesthetic Category.” Art Quar

The concept that true history is the objects of nature from the idea of singularity it is signifi phenomena--taken in their wid from the mineral kingdom--co which natural history finds aes final stage in the historicizing of history naturalized. In 1789 Witte-basing his conclusions o Duluc and Faujas de Saint-Fon Egypt for nature, declaring tha he also identified the ruins of P as well as the Temple of Jupite the Incas in Peru, as lithic out Atlantic Coast Photo courtesy the author.

Fig 21: Iron cupola on an observatory

20 Postiglione, p.3.

Fig 22: Atlantic wall bunker at Huequeville, France

Fig 23: Tilted bunker at Capbreton, France

Fig 24: Hlaf submeerged bunkers at Vigo, Denmark

Chapter Two: Post-war architecture and its influence from WWII Bunkers

The rise of Béton Brut

The years of combat did not demoralise certain architects and theorists from continuing to explore the field of architecture. Le Corbusier was one of the active members that perceived war as a new opportunity for architecture and urbanism .21 Studying the wartime development programmes can also be served as a tool to understanding the needs for peacetime and post-war regenerations. Although not many civil productions were completed during WWII, the long-awaited time certainly brought new ideas to many of the architects and theorists during the period of post-war reconstruction. The controversial topic on the use of concrete became relevant to the post-war reconstruction. During WWII, the demand for cement and concrete construction was in constant increase. Since many of the military infrastructures and transport infrastructures use reinforced concrete in WWII, the research and advancement in concrete construction has reached new heights by the German engineers and researchers. Concrete had proven itself to be cost-efficient, durable, and easily managed even with low-skilled labour. The culture of using concrete as the main construction material carried forward to the postwar years. The supply for steel was low, due to its high price point. Therefore, concrete was still the predominant choice of building material for many architects following the war, for economic reasons.

21 Jean-Louis Cohen, Architecture in Uniform: Designing and building for Second World War, (New Haven and London: Yale University Press,2011), p.22.

Concurrently, during the post-war reconstruction the term ‘brutalist’ began to circulate. The word ‘brutalism’ originated from the Swedish architect Hans Asplund who was inspired by the ‘bloodymindedness’ design of the 1949 housing project Villa Goth in Uppsala. He named it the ‘neobrutalist’ .22 This term spread quickly when it was brought back to England and influenced many younger generations of English architects. The term was still muffled and unclear, until the manifesto “The New Brutalism” written by Reyner Banham was published in The Architecture Review in 1955. The growing discussion of the term ‘brutalism’ made reinforced concrete the spotlight in the field of construction and architecture in the 1950s. It was constantly exploited and experimented by many architects for its economic value, and ability to retain structural strength, even with complex geometries and sculptural form. The Beton Brut expression first came to light by Le Corbusier’s projects in Chandigarh (1950), where raw concrete was used to construct all the government buildings, due to low-skilled labour and low level of construction technology.23 From the assembly in Chandigarh, Le Corbusier then discovered the beauty of raw concrete expression in architecture. This idea was brought back to Europe and similar expression was done for the Unite d’Habitation in 1952, which is the first genuinely post-war building in Europe. The innovations for Unite d’Habitation separated it from pre-war architecture.

22 Reyner Banham, The New Brutalism, (London: London Architectural Press, 1966), p.10. 23 Yung Ho, Chang ‘Five projects. Post- Euphoria in China’, Politecnico di Milano, 2013

The crude wooden shattering imprints on the concrete contradicts with Le Corbusier’s prewar beliefs that reinforced concrete is precise “machine-age” material.24 This change in Le Corbusier’s attitude towards the textured expression of concrete was a bold step during the period of post-war reconstruction, since because concrete is not considered a beautiful and presentable material in architecture. His discovery of the beauty in concrete expression may be influenced from the wartime construction and infrastructures. This paradigm shifts in his Beton Brut expression kickstarted the “brutalist” style, with many other architects such as Denys Lasdun, and Alison and Peter Smithson adopting similar expression in their works.

Fig 25: Construction workers, Chandigarh, 1950

The brutalist Béton brut expression was not born from pure imagination. Virilio believes that the post-war brutalist architecture and its origin was tightly linked to WWII infrastructures and fortifications that have similar expression. Virilio as a theorist and architect, together with his partner Claude Parent, designed The Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay in exploration with his theoretical research of WWII bunkers and Oblique functions. His architecture shed new light on the relationship and boundary between WWII bunkers and the post-war brutalist architecture.

Fig 26: Assembly under construction in Chandigarh, 1950-1965

24 Banham, p. 16

Church of St.Bernadette in Banlay and Paul Virilio

The Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay (19631966) is arguably one of the prominent postwar concrete architectural buildings that was influenced directly by the bunkers. The church is located at the bank of Loire river, in a town names Nevers. The city is well-known for its historical Romanesque and Gothic architectures. Nevers is also known for its cultural and religious heritage, which draws thousands of tourists and pilgrims to visit Bernadette. The town also went through hardships and destruction during WWII, which destroyed some of the historical buildings. The church was built to accommodate the flocking parishioners that migrated to Nevers from the major cities that were destructed by the War. The church is located at the centre of suburban farmland, with surrounding local wine distilleries and delocalized residential houses. The large-scale residential blocks make the Church of St. Bernadette appear small. The apparent difference in scale makes the church unique and more relatable to the original scale of bunkers. The surrounding context went through a series of changes and now the open farmland has been replaced by more residential development and industry warehouses. The planning for Church of Saint Bernadette began as an architecture competition in early 1963 by bishop Monseigneur Vial and its programmes were planned by the elected priest, Abbot Bourgoin. The purpose of the church is to commemorate the century birth of the Saint Bernadette Soubirous, who dedicated her life to Lourdes when living in extreme poverty. She was one of the visionaries of apparition who claimed to witness Virgin Mary and Jesus.25 Paul Virilio and Claude Parent successfully claim the project for the Church of St. Bernadette.

Fig 27: Site map for Church of St.Bernadette in Nevers

Fig 28: Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay

25 Juan Carlos Sánchez Tappan and Tilemachos Andrianopoulos, ‘Paul Virilio in Conversation’, AA Files 57(2008) 33-47(34)

The church was a manifestation and combination of the two steams of research: the “bunker archelogy” by Paul Virilio and the “oblique function” by Claude Parent. The immediate expression of the church reminds us of a bunker, a monolithic concrete block, with few openings and curved edges with no right angles. The crude expression for the church resulted in many negative opinions in the neighbourhood. The appearance of the church raised criticism as it focused too much on the resemblance of a bunker, which has dissipated the nature of a sacred space. How did Virilio came up with the idea of integrating the dehumanising Nazi bunker with a church design? The question could be easily surfaced by understanding Virilio personal encounters and his research streams in military space and bunkers. Born in 1932, Virilio grew up amid an environment devasted by WWII. Virilio experienced the evacuation process when he was 15 when Nantes, where his family had sought refuge, was bombed by the Allied forces. The documentation of his early childhood memories was the main driving force that led him to his later thinking and research. Having an artistic background, he trained as a master glazier. With no formal architecture education and training, Virilio started a collaboration with Claude Parent from the 1960s to the 1990s, as well as participation in higher education as a professor and workshop director at the École Spéciale d’Architecture (ESA) in Paris from 1969.26 This led him to be involved in the Architecture Principle group as an editor, which marked the beginning of his contributions to early post-war French architecture, and the relationship between military and urbanization.

26 John Armitage, Virilio for Architects, ed. By Adam Sharr, (London and New York: Routledge, 2015), p. 7.

“I don’t have any training in architecture whatsoever. I came to the question of the city through the question of war . . . I lived through the trauma of full-scale war, the destruction of cities, like Nantes, where I lived and where eight thousand buildings were destroyed. It was this relationship with war which led me to become interested in the city and in architecture.” ‘Paul Virilio and the oblique’, Paul Virilio and Enrique Limon, 2001

Fig 29: The function of the oblique

Fig 30: Lookout post on the Atlantic

Fig 31: Front view of Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay

It was WWII which fascinated Virilio to understand the nature of this “total war”, and the role of military space in which creating such magnitude of the Atlantic Wall bunkers. The personal documentation and research into the Atlantic Wall bunkers from 1945 - his 30year long documentation and research into the Atlantic bunkers resulted in the notable bunker archaeology in 1975. Virilio’s passion for WWII bunkers did not stop at theoretical research and publications, but also proving the connection between these unique monolithic structures and the post-war architectures when designing the Church of St. Bernadette. The appearance of a bunker is not only a mere expression of Virilio’s interest, but more of a celebration and proof of how the form and materiality of the bunkers can be integrated into everyday building. The “crushed and chelonian form”- its rounded edged and monolithic appearance of the rough textured timber imprint into the concrete shell was transformed into a new synergy in the post-war environment. The language of military infrastructure is clear and bold on the Church of St. Bernadette. The connection between the Nazi inspired architecture and a sacred monastic nature of a church is an obscure paradox. Virilio commented that the intention to mimic the bunker is the make the Church of St. Bernadette Nevers a “witness building,” which witnessed the hardships and the most devastating war in the history.27 The church was completed after WWII and during the period of the Cold War, it was regarded as a “repulsive” architecture. The peculiarity became something monumental, embracing and forward-looking.28

27 Virilio and Lotringer, After Architecture: A Conversation, p.35. 28 Claude Parent,‘Projects: Church of Saint-Bernadette du Banlay, Nevers’, The Function of the Oblique, London: Architectural Association (1996), 17–19 (17)

fig. 2: Bunkers abandoned in the landscape along the Danish west coast (map of a Dan Danish National Archive/DK; photo by G. Postiglione).

The aesthetic dimension of bunkers can be considered a new interpretative parameter, n modernity. The excavated compact stereometric monomaterial form interprets an emblematic manner the canon and many of the current architectural trends: f minimalism to the installationism of the land art matrix, from the aesthetics of m abstraction that transforms material into pure matter. The relationship between construction and decoration is definitely broken in a man longer expresses the reasons of the former. The expressive aesthetic figurative value of edge off tectonics, becoming pure language and proposing a path to architecture that, in present. What else should a construction show or say to be recognized as architecture Virilio pointed out that the bunkers are “heavy and overcoming it?

grey masses” with “no openings” except for vents for ventilation and surprise entrances.29 Bunker interior had a consistent lack of natural light, only infiltrated with darkness. Natural light became scarce, meaning it was highly regarded. From the thick concrete shells that protect the inhabitants and war equipment within the bunkers, the thin light that penetrates the bunker became something significant. It is the only mechanism that connects the inhabitants to the outside world; a glimpse to the sea and horizon and hope for peace and a better tomorrow. It may be the only resource that can calm the inhabitants on duty. Light escalates to become the central of importance, meaning it can correlate with the importance of light in a sacred space such as the church. Light is regarded as the path to ascension and a symbol for selfcontemplation. In a more optimistic view, a bunker is a useful example to analyse light, specifically Fig 32: Bunker Interior space fig. 3: Bunker interior space: monumentality as result of the connection between typolo the atmospheric condition when light interferes of a bunker type after a drawing by R. Rolf © 1988; photo by G. Postiglione; drawings b with concrete and its architectonic textures. A bunker itself is a convoluted typology to recognised. The thick, heavy, and frightening nature of the concrete shell should be viewed as a place of protection - a shelter from destruction. Yet, the crushing feeling and the solidity of the concrete may not give you a sense of security - rather it translates the “deadly power” of modern warfare.30 Virilio regards the bunkers as a “inverse figure of the destructive power” and a symbol of “death”. It locks you in and contains your fear. Ironically, it protects you from dropping bombs and explosives, however this protection comes with a price. It keeps you alive so that you can continue to participate in the war, portraying a pure “survival machine”.

DOCOMOMOiberico-CADIZ2007_paper postiglione p 3

Fig 33: Bunker opening for artillery

Albert Speer. Inside the Third Reich. 1969 Hitler planned these defensive installations down to the smallest details. He even designed the various types of bunkers and pillboxes, usually in the hours of the night. The designs were only sketches, but they were executed with precision. Never sparing in self-praise, he often remarked that his designs ideally met all the requirements of a frontline soldier. They were adopted almost without revision by the general of the Corps of Engineers.World War II Artillery Bunker, Atlantic Coast Photo courtesy the author.

29 Virilio, Bunker archeology, p. 13. 30 Virilio and Lotringer, After Architecture: A Conversation, p.35.

Fig 34: Worship area, Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay

However, the Church of St. Bernadette Nevers was designed to not feel crushed and suffocating at all. Instead, the interior is warm, protective, and spacious. The softened edges and inclined surfaces are responding to Saint Bernadette Soubirous expressions, “I have come here to hide… the grotto was my heaven on earth.” Upon entering the main worship area which has 600 seat capacity, natural light flushes down from the central skylight that runs across the space from one end to another - separating the worship hall into two parts of overlapping concrete shells. The austere thick concrete interior is wrapped and curved into a cave-like space, softening the edges, and dispersing the infiltrated light into worship hall that is calming and meditating. The feeling is very much opposite of the “crushed” form of bunkers: a sacred space that is free of fear and anxiety. The aforementioned qualities of the bunkers and fortifications that were manifested in Church of St. Bernadette Nevers clearly suggests that the influence from bunkers were not blindly integrated. The application was thoughtful and in line with both their architectural concept and their historic background.

Fig 35: Worship area, Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay

The appearance of the Church of St. Bernadette Nevers may be provocative in mimicking WWII Nazi military bunkers, capturing the essence of its material and form. However, the dehumanising from of a bunker is not presented here as an image of total war, but more of a “witness building” to the events of the war. The resilient concrete outer shell that protects the sensitive interior indicates that the form of the church is not there to instil fear.31 Instead, it becomes place for contemplation and reflection on the shameful and difficult times during the Nazi occupations. The interior was designed with a cave-like ceiling, with the rounded corners reflecting the overall “chelonian” form of a bunker. Virilio deliberately selected these elements of the bunkers; their small openings, materiality, and form transform the antithetical design of the Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay into creating a new synergy and dialogue between the past and present.

31 Tappan and Andrianopoulos, p.34.

“Concrete offers life through its protection. You could even go on to say that all defensive architecture is the architecture of survival. This survival is therefore fundamental to architecture because it is about creating a sound structure and offering material resistance.” ‘Paul Virilio in conversation’, Paul Virilio and Juan Carlos Sánchez Tappan , 2008

Fig 36: Ground floor plan, Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay

Fig 37: First floor plan, Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay

Fig 38: Section, Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay

Fig 39: models for Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay

Virilio and Beyond

Paul Virilio is not the only theorist who firmly believes in the inseparable relationship between bunkers and the post-war brutalist architecture. Bunkers as “proto-art” was a concept seemingly being transformed and represented into more and more post-war architecture. The sculptural qualities from the bunker and its fluid form was echoed in certain Le Corbusier’s architecture after WWII. Although Le Corbusier’s relationship with the bunkers is a contentious topic, many of his designs that were completed after WWII curiously echo these military infrastructures and German expressionism.32 The sculptural forms of his design, profile of complex curvature and the Béton Brut expression of concrete, all have a resemblance to the Nazi bunkers. For example, the La Tourette (1959) has similar features of a bunker which are presented in its structural expression. These include the few openings in the northern façade, and the colossal concrete block which presented itself as an erected monolith from the earth. The profile of the “cannon lights” that brings light into the basement room also has similar profile of a bunker that can generate a “series of whirling forces.”33 Another example would be his Saint-Pierre (1971) in Firminy, France. This was the last major work by Corbusier before he passed away in 1965. SaintPierre functions as a church for the population in Firminy-Vert not far away from Lyons. The overall “parabolic cone” reinforced concrete structure that is thirty-six meters in height has similar profile of the rounded form of the Nazi bunkers.

Fig 40: La Tourette, North façade

Fig 41: Saint-Pierre in Firminy

32 Virilio and Lotringer, After Architecture: A Conversation, p.36. 33 Colin Rowe, ‘Dominican Monastery of La Tourette by Le Corbusier’, Architecture Review, 6 (1961), 400-410

In fact, the lower floor of Saint-Pierre functioned as a civilian shelter for almost 25 years before converting into a culture centre.34 Undoubtedly, minor details from the post-war work by Corbusier has many areas which reflect bunkers and the war infrastructures. The bold expressions of textures and the curvature profiles became a direct visual comparison with the form of bunkers. But were these aesthetic parallels a deliberate choice, or merely a repeated coincidence?

Fig 42: Firing control tower on the Atlantic

Fig 43: SK obervation tower in Fliegerhorst

34 Samuel Flora, Linder-Gaillard Inge, Sacred Concrete: The churches of Le Corbusier, (Basel: Birkhauser, 2013), p.18.

Chapter Three: Contingent or Coincident?

The turbulent relationship between these wartime infrastructures and post-war architecture is an ongoing discussion. Their association can even be traced back to post First world war, where certain architecture took inspiration from German expressionism and military infrastructures. For example, the Einstein Tower in Potsdam (1919-1921) by Erich Mendelsohn has parallel qualities with the Germans observational bunkers. Goetheanum in Donarch (1924-1928) also has similar raw concrete appearance to the bunkers. These multifaceted bunkers are not solely a product during the war, or a waste after WWII - but instead should be understood as a historical highlight and reference to the development of modern architecture. Putting aside the propaganda of the Nazi regime, the forced labour and the ideology of building these monolithic defensive structures from WWII, the form and the modernity of these bunkers are echoed deeply within the post-war brutalist architecture. This is supported by several architecture theorists and historians such as Paul Virilio, Paul Hirst, Jean-Louis Cohen and Jonathan Meades. The crude imprints and rough exposed textures from the raw concrete and the bold and expressive nature of the structural integrity and construction all indicate that bunkers and post-war concrete buildings have an undeniable relationship. These similarities originate in the apparent form, material, and textures of the Nazi bunkers, alongside a potential hidden influence that stereotypically affects our impressions.

Fig 44: Einstein Tower in Potsdam

Fig 45: Obervation tower in Channel Isaland

The first similarity we can establish is that the bunkers and the post-war Béton Brut architecture both have the same monolithic appearance in material: concrete. Reinforced concrete was predominantly used for the bunkers was due to the strong tensile strength and its protective quality against bombs and explosions. These bunkers were built with ultra-thick concrete walls and roofs that were almost indestructible. Comparatively, the main reason behind the popularity of concrete during the post-war reconstruction was mainly due to the economic factor, as reinforced concrete was significantly cheaper than steel. The early New Brutalism started with brick and steel frame construction, by this was quickly replaced by reinforced concrete. This is because the main materials needed for concrete construction will only be factory produced cement, stone aggregates, sand, and water. These are raw materials which are easily sourced in high volumes. The concrete construction was considered as “rudimentary,” because it did not involve energy-demanding processes, unlike steel. Le Corbusier even valued concrete as a “natural material” which had equal importance to timber, stone, and earth. Although on the surface, the appearance of the bunkers is parallel to the post-war brutalist architecture: however, the intention for the choice of material differs greatly. Concrete in Nazi bunkers were all about being protective and reactive. They shielded against possible invasion, portrayed its strong line of defence as a warning to the enemy and was a tool for propaganda.

Fig 46: The “Todt Front” The overhung solid mass complements the vertical gradings of embrasure.

Fig 47: Slabs of concrete layering on top one another, Royal National Theatre, London.

In contrast, concrete in Brutalism is about bold and honest expression of the structures and materials. This makes the architecture more vulnerable rather than protective, truthful rather than deceptive. Furthermore, the Béton Brut architecture was regarded as an “accidental” product, due to the limited availability of resources.35 However, the concrete in German bunkers was used with clear intentions. The most striking argument linking WWII bunkers and the Béton Brut post-war architecture is from the technical point of view: concrete and its construction. WWII contributed massive improvement and technological advancement regarding reinforced concrete. The continuous, rigorous testing and research into reinforced concrete not only provided solutions for stronger fortifications and war infrastructures, but also implemented knowledge for future engineers and architects during the post-war reconstruction. This provided ample opportunities for the concrete construction industry.

35 Simon Henley, Redefining Brutalism, (London: RIBA publishing, 2017), p.1-224.

Furthermore, the hostile appearance of the rough textured concrete imprints exists in both the bunkers and brutalist architecture. These imprints were originally intended for better camouflage and better integration to the site for the bunkers. However, the main reason that the wooden shuttering imprints left on the bunkers are largely due to the speed of construction and its association with mobilization of the significant number of unskilled workers. The rough and untreated concrete texture was later transformed in the era of brutalist architecture that quickly became a topic of discussion for its aesthetic value. Hence, the rough and hostile surface became the first apparent visual connection that link WWII bunkers and brutalist architecture under the same parameter. The similarity in the appearance of the raw and untreated concrete surface between the two types was largely due to the similar construction methods and procedures during the process of creation. The shuttering imprints from the untreated roughly sawn timber boards which shaped the “liquid stone” was the legacy from the process of construction: the honest and bold expression that echoed the “machine aesthetic” of the Modern movement. However, the Béton Brut expressionism by Le Corbusier was mainly due to the political and economic circumstances. Reyner Banham described how Corbusier had gave up his original steel-framed design for the Unite d’Habitation. The soaring price of steel, scared resource and limited funding resulted in Le Corbusier being left with concrete as the only option to achieve his overall design. He also took advantage on the harsh circumstance and used unskilled workers, so he had no intention to produce utterly precise shuttering and formwork. 36

36 Banham, p.358.

Fig 48: Le Corbusier and construction workers at Unite d’Habitation

This mobilization of the unskilled labourers has a similar approach to how the Nazi bunkers were built, by untrained workers from prisoners of war and local volunteers. In other words, elements of the reinforced concrete bunkers and Corbusier’s Unite d’Habitation partly came from unskilled craftsman and carpenters. Although the similarity between their processes of construction may not be immediately obvious, it has certainly raised many perspectives into the aesthetic value of rough and raw concrete appearances. These were unintentional and ended up championing the “ruthless logic,” seemingly intentional.

Fig 49: Construction workers building the Atlantic Wall bunker.

However, the low-skilled labour and its link to the Béton Brut style of expression is only valid for the early period of new brutalism. It is premature to disregard this argument, with brutalist architecture lasting more than 30 years for reasons beyond being “eclectic.” The essence and vision of Brutalism has changed through time according to its historical, cultural, geographical and material aspects.37 The intentional “ruthless logic” was originally complementing the “totality” of brutalist style. The focus was on the visible process and joinery of materials that merged with the politics and aesthetics.38 However, the “rawness” in the expression of concrete in many of the later developments contradict with that intention. The raw and rough textures of concrete later became a detail process which required fine craftmanship. For example, this can be seen in Barbican Centre in London (1971-1982.) Some of the wall finishing needed craftsmen to pick-hammer the curing concrete so that it produced the rough appearance. The process of manipulating the various textures needed took long hours of work and exorbitant labour; the direct opposite to the “highly industrialised” work on brutalism that focus on efficiency of resources.

37 Henley, p.80. 38 Oli Mould, ‘Brutalism Redux: Relational Monumentality and the Urban Politics of Brutalist Architecture’, Antipod, 2016, 702-719 (704)

In addition, the various types of bunker and its forms are also important in comparison with the post-war architecture. There are approximately 14,000 bunkers which were built solely for Atlantic Wall, not including other fortifications which were built by the Third Reich in WWII. Out of the 14,000 bunkers, they are all classified into 20 main types which have different purposes. Although the similar type of bunkers had the same functions in their internal spaces, their overall form differs due to their different geographical locations and tactical needs. From the “breathtaking” Atlantic Wall pictures that were documented by Virilio, these bunkers are unique in their form, being thoughtfully designed for their specified purpose. The modernity that the bunkers presented are one of the key reasons for them to be “precursor” to the post-war brutalist architecture.39 To make feasible connections to the post-war brutalist architecture according to their forms, there are two perspectives which need to be evaluated; the relative scale and profile which constituted the form. For example, the case of The Church of St. Bernadette in was particularly significant because this is the only brutalist architecture with its concept inspired by the expression of a bunker. The small and narrow slit openings, and the “chelonian form” and the rounded corners all give the building a sculptural character. The general features were widely inspired by the profiles from the Nazi bunkers, which then composited together in the final design. Consequently, the inspiration from the profiles of bunkers became an instrumental connection. The other aspect is associating the relative scale between the bunkers and the post-war architecture. Putting WWII bunkers and the massive blocks of post-war Beton Brut architecture as a side-by-side comparis¬¬on would be invalid and inappropriate.

39 Bradley Garrrett and Ian Klinke, p. 5.

Fig 50: Variations of bunker forms in prints.

Most of the bunkers are much smaller in scale which gave limited architecture types for appropriate comparison. One possible type that may relate more to the bunker design would be the brutalist churches. For example, the Church of St Bernadette in Nevers by Paul VirilioLa Tourette (1959) and Saint-Pierre (1971) by Le Corbusier where both are churches ¬that have approximate relative scale and profiles of bunkers. These beton brut churches also have limited openings which amplified the quality of mass concrete and its coarse solidity and gave them the fortified and protective character.

However, not all brutalist architecture which looks like Nazi bunkers got its influence from the bunkers themselves. The ‘eclectic’ nature of brutalist architecture does not provide a conclusive comparison, if cases are compared against any stylistic arguments. For instance, a case-by-case study should be conducted, in order to draw any useful comparisons and relationship. It will be too figurative and literal if the comparisons are solely based on visual references and subjective opinions. Yet some post-war brutalist architecture reminds people of bunkers: something we want to forget rather than remember. Brutalism is portrayed as “terrifying” and “anti-beauty” architecture. The radical ideology revolves around clear exhibition of structure, valuation of material and memorability of image.40 The rise of brutalism was soon viewed as something “antithetical” that conflicted with the current urban developments. The totalising appearance became an important underlying principle for ethical and political consideration. Banham discussed the argument that brutalism is often considered as being “anti-art” or “antibeauty” as contrary to the classical aesthetic.41 The image of totality that brutalist architecture made these buildings often dehumanising and unapproachable. This is also the reason for certain brutalist architecture being pictured as an object or a “thing” which embraced quality of monumentality. The image of totality is often relational and identifiable; hence some brutalist architecture may take the shape of certain objects. Some may appear to be terrifying and give off an “aura of fear and dictatorship” - just like the Nazi bunkers. Part of this reasoning also came from the observers and their personal encounters with the “thing” or the objects which may subconsciously stimulate their memories.

“Much of the reconstruction was in monolithic concrete: vessels elevated on pilotis, or bunker-like with few windows...” Redefining Brutalism, Simon Henley, 2017

All in all, what these “anti-beauty” brutalist architecture are truly representing will depend on the “imagery” that the viewers have in their mind. This explains why some of the brutalist buildings that was not influenced by the Nazi bunkers are portrayed as bunkers regardless, because they have certain features resembling the bunkers.

40 Banham, p.28. 41 Diek van den Heuvel and Max Risselada, ‘Picking up, Turning over and putting with…’, Alison and peter Smithson- form the House of Future to a house of Today (2014), p.8-11

Conclusion

In conclusion, there are indeed numerous connections between WWII bunkers and postwar brutalist architecture - some may be more apparent than others. Whether or not the similarities are clear, the bunkers should be valued as an important historical highlight in modern architecture and the “crucial precursor” to post-war brutalist architecture. From the wide variety of forms, economized construction, raw expression in material and its related aesthetic quality, bunkers became the ideal typology for experimenting with the potentiality of reinforced concrete. These similarities can be rationalised through the use of reinforced concrete, the influence of Béton Brut, their architectural forms and the image from one’s subconscious memory of the “image”. Furthermore, the years of combat also brought the research and advancement into reinforced concrete to a whole new height. This knowledge was passed on to the new generations of engineers and architects and was invaluable to the post-war reconstruction. The studies of the Atlantic Wall bunkers in terms of their form, material and aesthetic have essentially built up the fundamental knowledge for the comparison with post-war brutalist architecture. Using the Church of St. Bernadette in Nevers as a case for evaluation is imperative because it manifested Virlio’s research for bunker archaeology. Its design also demonstrated socio-political and historic thinking. The church presents similar typology and materiality of the Nazi bunkers; this was a deliberate indication to celebrate the aesthetic value of Béton Brut and the modernity in the forms of bunker.

The bunker-like church is not there to instil painful memories and fear. Instead, it discloses information about the past and evokes memories for the “apprehension of the real” which emits the true tenacity of the “witness building”. This controversial design became a voice of Virilio’s, which provided a whole new perspective on how post-war brutalist architecture is tightly linked to war and geopolitics. This voice marks the beginning to search for the missing link between the bunkers and post-war architecture. Overall, the arguments cannot represent the whole spectrum of new brutalism and Béton Brut’s architecture, as every case has its own specificity to examine. In this dissertation, I have tried to shed light on the plausible points on the relationship between the Nazi bunkers and the post-war brutalist architecture, the connection many may have realised but not thought through carefully. The visible similarities are driven by certain hidden influences. As a result, the arguments presented have revealed the “brutal” secrets which bring a new architectural discourse into the relationship between WWII military structures and the post-war architecture.

List of Figures Coverpage: created by Author Fig 1: Building the Atlantic Wall, Website, 1 Dec 2020, https://www.atlantikwalleurope.eu/en/page/the-atlantikwall Fig 2: Atlantic Wall border, Website, 15 Dec 2020, http://bunkerlove.com/we-believe/ Fig 3: Virilio, Paul. Obervation post on Channel Isalnd, 1958-1975. Photograph. Channel Isalnd. Fig 4: Virilio, Paul. Inidividual Shelter on North Sea, 1958-1975. Photograph. North Sea. Fig 5: Virilio, Paul. Firing control tower in Landes, 1958-1971. Photograph. Landes. Fig 6: Flak Tower in Augarten, 25 Dec 2020, https://war-documentary.info/vienna-flak-towers-flakturm/ Fig 7: Obervation post in Channel Isalnd, Website, 25 Dec 2020, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/German_occupation_of_ the_Channel_Islands Fig 8: U-boat pens at Brest, 1941, 25 Dec 2020, https://www.warhistoryonline.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/ Bundesarchiv_Bild_101II-MW-2746-45_Brest_U-Boot-Bunker.jpg Fig 9: Hitler and Fritz Todt, 1934, 26 Dec 2020, https://www.hitler-archive.com/photo.php?p=C9NL5mW0 Fig 10: Muller, France and Belgium Atlantic Wall under construction, 1942, Photograph. German Federal Archives. Germany Fig 11: Kuhn, Workers building the Atlantic Wall, 1942, Photograph. German Federal Archives. Germany Fig 12: O.Ang, Supervising the Atlantic Wall, 1941-1943, Photograph. German Federal Archives. Germany Fig 13: Atlantic Wall construction process, 2 Jan 2021, https://www.pinterest.com/pin/362047257525973680/ Fig 14: Wireframing the overall form of the Atlantic wall bunker, 05 Jan 2021, https://www.flickr.com/photos/ photosnormandie/481113861/in/photostream/ FIg 15: Graf, Otto. Otto Graf’s reserach in reinforced concrete, showing concrete cross-section with 26% sand in aggregates , influence of fineness on properties of cement and compressive strength of concrete as function of the water-cement ratio, 1939, Germany Fig 16: Virilio, Paul, Raw concrete expression of Atlantic Wall Bunker, 1958-1975. Photograph. France. Fig 17: Virilio, Paul, Close-up view on raw concrete texture, 1958-1975, Photograph. Strait of Dover. Fig 18: Le Corbusier’s early beton brut work on Assembly, Chandingarh, 1950-1965, 10 Jan 2021, https://www.cca.qc.ca/ en/articles/72896/a-collection-of-chandigarh Fig 19: Detail view on beton brut expression, 10 Jan 2021, http://www.janetytsai.com/blog/2014/9/28/the-brutalistengineering-center Fig 20: Stafford, Barbara M, Fallen Atlantic Wall Bunker. 1977. Photograph. Art Quarterly. Fig 21: Virilio, Paul. Iron cupola on an observatory, 1958-1975. Photograph. France Fig 22: Vanfleteren, Stephan, Atlantic wall bunker at Huequeville, France, 10 Jan 2021, https://www.wired.com/2014/05/ stephan-vanfleteren-atlantic-wall/ Fig 23: Vanfleteren, Stephan, Tilted bunker at Capbreton, France, 10 Jan 2021, https://www.wired.com/2014/05/stephanvanfleteren-atlantic-wall/ Fig 24: Vanfleteren, Stephan, Hlaf submeerged bunkers at Vigo, Denmark, 10 Jan 2021, https://www.wired.com/2014/05/ stephan-vanfleteren-atlantic-wall/ Fig 25: Construction workers, Chandigarh, 1950, 10 Jan 2021, https://www.cca.qc.ca/en/articles/72896/a-collection-ofchandigarh Fig 26: Assembly under construction in Chandigarh, 1950-1965. RIBA Collection, London. https://www.architecture.com/ image-library/RIBApix/image-information/poster/construction-workers-chandigarh/posterid/RIBA41850.html Fig 27: Site map for Church of St.Bernadette in Nevers, 12 Jan 2021, Google Earth Fig 28: Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay, 12 Jan 2021, https://hiddenarchitecture.net/sainte-bernadette-du-banlaychruch/ Fig 29: The function of the oblique, 12 Jan 2021, http://dip9.aaschool.ac.uk/archive/trying-to-reign-in-the-mexicoexcitement/ Fig 30: Virilio Paul, Lookout post on the Atlantic, 1958-1975. Photograph. Atlantic Fig 31: Front view of Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay, 12 Jan 2021, https://hiddenarchitecture.net/sainte-bernadettedu-banlay-chruch/ Fig 32: Rudi, Rolf. Bunker Interior space, 1988. Photograph. Atlantic. Fig 33: Stankiwvech Charles, Bunker opening for artillery, 2015. Photohraph. Atantic.

Fig 34: Worship area, Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay, 12 Jan 2021, https://hiddenarchitecture.net/sainte-bernadettedu-banlay-chruch/ Fig 35: Worship area, Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay, 12 Jan 2021, https://hiddenarchitecture.net/sainte-bernadettedu-banlay-chruch/ Fig 36: Ground floor plan, Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay, 12 Jan 2021, https://hiddenarchitecture.net/saintebernadette-du-banlay-chruch/ Fig 37: First floor plan, Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay, 12 Jan 2021, https://www.pinterest.com/ pin/480055641513973956/ Fig 38: Section, Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay, https://www.pinterest.ie/pin/473229873329495904/ Fig 39: Models for Church of St. Bernadette in Banlay, 15 Jan 2021, https://www.frac-centre.fr/_en/authors/rub/ rubinventory-319.html?authID=10&ensembleID=26 Fig 40: Cevallos, Gladys. La Tourette, North façade. Photograph. 15 Jan 2021, https://www.behance.net/ gallery/96645189/Couvent-Sainte-Marie-de-la-Tourette Fig 41: Saint-Pierre in Firminy, 15 Jan 2021, https://www.pinterest.com/pin/358176976585229122/ Fig 42: Virilio, Paul. Firing control tower on the Atlantic, 1958-1975. Photograph. Atlantic Fig 43: Andrew, Jonathan. SK obervation tower in Fliegerhorst, 15 Jan 2021, https://www.wired.com/2013/02/world-war-iibunkers-jonathan-andrew/ Fig 44: Einstein Tower in Potsdam, 15 Jan 2021, https://www.archdaily.com/402033/ad-classics-the-einstein-tower-erichmendelsohn/51db31f2e8e44e82b700000e-ad-classics-the-einstein-tower-erich-mendelsohn-image Fig 45: Vrilio, Paul. Obervation tower in Channel Isaland. 1958-1975. Photograph. Atlantic Fig 46: Virilio, Paul. The “Todt Front” The overhung solid mass complements the vertical gradings of embrasure. 19581975. Photograph. Atlantic. Fig 47: Matthews, Andy. Slabs of concrete layering on top one another, Royal National Theatre, London. 1976. Photograph. RIBA collection, London. Fig 48: Le Corbusier and construction workers at Unite d’Habitation, 1945-52. 12 Jan 2021, https://twitter.com/ areasvellas/status/1309534565397078016/photo/1 Fig 49: Muther, Construction workers building the Atlantic Wall bunker. 1942. German Federal Archives. Germany. Fig 50: Hendaye, Narvik. Variations of bunker forms in prints. 2005-2006. 10x15x2cm, gouache on paper glued on wood. Bruxelles.

Bibliography Claude Parent,‘Projects: Church of Saint-Bernadette du Banlay, Nevers’, The Function of the Oblique, London: Architectural Association (1996) Colin Rowe, ‘Dominican Monastery of La Tourette by Le Corbusier’, Architecture Review, 6 (1961) Diek van den Heuvel and Max Risselada, ‘Picking up, Turning over and putting with…’, Alison and peter Smithson- form the House of Future to a house of Today 2014 Garrett, Bradley and Klinke, Ian, ‘Opening the bunker: function, materiality, temporality’, Oxford University, (2008) Gennaro, Postiglione, The Atlantic Wall: bunker and/as modern architecture, Politecnico di Milano (2007) Handbook of the Organisation Todt (O.T), (London: MIRS-LONDON, 1945) Jean-Louis Cohen, Architecture in Uniform: Designing and building for Second World War, (New Haven and London: Yale University Press,2011) Jonathan Meades, Bunkers Brutalism and Bloodymindedness: Concrete Poetry, (London:BBC, 2014) John Armitage, Virilio for Architects, ed. By Adam Sharr, (London and New York: Routledge, 2015). Juan Carlos Sánchez Tappan and Tilemachos Andrianopoulos, ‘Paul Virilio in Conversation’, AA Files 57(2008) 33-47(34) Kaufmann J.E and Kaufman H.W, Fortress Third Reich, (USA: Da Capo Press, 2003) Oli Mould, ‘Brutalism Redux: Relational Monumentality and the Urban Politics of Brutalist Architecture’, Antipod, 2016 Reyner Banham, The New Brutalism, (London: London Architectural Press, 1966) Samuel Flora, Linder-Gaillard Inge, Sacred Concrete: The churches of Le Corbusier, (Basel: Birkhauser, 2013) Simon Henley, Redefining Brutalism, (London: RIBA publishing, 2017) Trout, Edwin A.R. ‘The Deutscher Ausschuß Für Eisenbeton (German Committee for Reinforced Concrete), 1907-1945. Part 2: Between the Wars.’ Construction History, 29 (2014) Virilio, Paul, Bunker archelogy, trans. by George Collins, (New York: Princeton architectural press, 2019) Virilio, Paul, and Sylvère Lotringer ‘After Architecture: A Conversation’, Grey Room, 3(2001) Hirst, Paul, ‘The Defence of Places: Fortification as Architecture [Part 2].’ AA Files, no. 34 (1997) Yung Ho, Chang ‘Five projects. Post- Euphoria in China’, Politecnico di Milano, 2013

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