Happy 99th Birthday to REYNER BANHAM - Tuesday, March 2, 2021

If architects that have passed—from Palladio -to- John Soane -to- Paul Rudolph—can have their own Facebook pages, then why not architectural historians too?! And so it is for one of the late 20th century’s most articulate, wide-ranging, and ebullient historians of design: REYNER BANHAM—whose page you can see here (and from which the above is a screen capture, showing his famously bushy and unmissable beard!)

CELEBRATING A GREAT ARCHITECTURAL HISTORIAN’S BIRTHDAY: tUESDAY, MARCH 2, 2021

REYNER BANHAM (March 2, 1922 – March 19, 1988) had a relatively short life, but he packed a lot into his brief span of 66 years. From the 1950’s to the 1980’s, he was an un-ignorable presence: tall, broad-shouldered, with a full bushy beard, and with the bright-spirited presence of a boisterous English Santa Claus. He was part of the architectural community’s consciousness via his continuous lecturing, teaching, traveling, captivating journal articles—and especially his books (of which he authored or collaborated on at least 20.)

Below is a mosaic of some of his many volumes. Among them is the one which initially brought him renown: Theory and Design in the First Machine Age; the one in which he opened our eyes to the wonders of a hitherto much-decried (at least by many architects) part of the US: Los Angeles: the Architecture of Four Ecologies; a book in which he explored the evolution and integration of mechanical systems into architectural design: The Architecture of the Well Tempered Environment; and a guidebook on which he collaborated, about significant buildings in Buffalo (a book which includes several Paul Rudolph projects): Buffalo Architecture: A Guide

Banham’s lively incarnations—whether in print or in person—always evoked a sense of wonder: he was able to convey his delight at what he had discovered, and yet did so without losing an historian’s rigor. For those who followed him, exploring areas of design history that been frozen into an “accepted” interpretation, he continually produced an intellectual and aesthetic thrill through newly introduced materials and fresh interpretations.

BANHAM: THE “FIRST APROXIMATION” HISTORIAN

His work on the history of Megastructures—research he initiated in the mid-1970’s—is an example of Banham engaging in what he called “first approximation history.” For each movement or historical event or era, somebody—some historian—will be the one to first try to grasp and describe its outlines and write that history (and also make an initial interpretation of its significance.). That historian is making a “first approximation” of the scope of the phenomenon—and its meaning.

Of course, there’s always danger in doing that kind of history, when one is so chronologically (or personally) close to the era and people being studied—for without the perspective and wisdom which comes from viewing things at a distance of years (or decades), no historian can, with a high level of confidence, discern what was truly significant about an event or period.

Yet, Banham asserted, somebody has got to be the first to take-on making an estimate and assessment of what happened—and that is what he did. He cited the megastructure movement (which, when he started doing the research on the topic, was passing out of its high-energy phase) as a subject for which he was acting as a first approximation historian. This courageous approach resulted in his 1976 book, MEGASTRUCTURE: Urban Futures of the Recent Past — which has recently been reissued in a beautiful new edition by Monacelli Press. [And you can read more about the book and megastructures—and their relationship to Paul Rudolph—in our article here.]

BANHAM AND HIS “NEW BRUTALIAM”

The genesis of the term “Brutalism” is ongoingly debated. “Origins”—plural—may be a better way of looking at that question, as the label’s emergence seems to have been the result of multiple sources and energies. [One of its most intriguing origin stories comes from the memoir of architect Guy Oddie (1922-2011): “Learning From Lutyens.” Oddie asserts that the term “Brutalism” derives from the nickname of one of his old friends—one of the most famous (and early) practitioners identified with the style—Peter Smithson. That nickname: “Brutus”]

Banham’s landmark 1955 article “THE NEW BRUTALISM” appeared in The Architectural Review.

Perhaps we’ll never arrive at an ultimate and final answer for the “true” origin of the label “Brutalism”—but it cannot be disputed that Reyner Banham was key to the spread of the term—and here too he was acting as a “first approximation” historian.

The manifestation of this was his article in the December 1955 issue of the distinguished British architectural journal, The Architectural Review, titled THE NEW BRUTALISM. The article combined a wide view of the panorama of architectural history, an examination of the the label, and a consideration of the trend’s possible significance—its-formal (and “anti-formal) aesthetic and philosophical import. It also prominently included a photo of the Hunstanton School, which Banham labeled “The first completed Brutalist building by Alison and Peter Smithson.” [You an read the full article on the Architectural Review’s archive page, here.] This was followed, about a decade later, by Banham’s 1966 full book on the topic (which was also titled THE NEW BRUTALISM.)

About a decade after Banham’s too-early passing, an anthology of his essays was published: A Critic Writes: Essays by Reyner Banham. It includes over four-dozen superbly-chosen gems which show his sparkling intelligence, breadth of interests, and lively writing style—-and, among these fascinating texts, is his original 1955 article on Brutalism.

To encounter Reyner Banham—in-person or on-the-page—was an unforgettable experience, and we are glad that still we have his many works to delight and enlighten us.

SO TODAY, 99 YEARS AFTER HIS OWN EMERGENCE, WE WISH A HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO REYNER BANHAM—AND CELEBRATE HIS MANY CONTRIBUTIONS!

Happy 160th Birthday to RUDOLF STEINER (Was he "The Original Brutalist" Architect?)

The entry façade of the SECOND GOETHEANUM, a building for the exploration of the arts, in Dornach, Switzerland. It was designed by Rudolf Steiner in the early 1920’s—and construction started in 1924 and was completed in 1928. Replacing an earlier wooden building, also designed by Steiner, this version of the Goetheanum was constructed entirely of exposed, cast-in-place concrete.

CELEBRATING THE 160TH BIRTHDAY OF RUDOLF STEINER — BORN FEBRURARY 25, 1861

RUDOLF STEINER (1861-1925) was the ultimate polymath. Though he did not live to a great age, he squeezed several lifetimes of achievements into his 64 years—and that included his work in architecture.

The breadth of his interests, activities, and accomplishments are impressive—and those various foci had him taking on (and mastering) multiple roles:

RUDOLF STEINER (1861-1925)—a master of multiple arts, including Architecture. His 160th birthday is on February 25th.

• PHILOSOPHER

• EDUCATOR — including developing an educational system and founding schools, which evolved into the Waldorf Movement, (which includes schools around-the-world)

• PSYCHOLOGIST

• SOCIAL REFORMER

• RESEARCHER — including into advances in Agriculture, Medicine, and Pharmacology

• INNOVATOR IN THE PERFORMING ARTS — embracing Drama, Music, and Dance

• THEOLOGIAN-ESOTERICIST — intense research, teaching, and movement founder

• AUTHOR and LECTURER — his Collected Works constitutes about 420 volumes, and that includes 43 volumes of his writings (books, essays, plays, and correspondence), over 6000 lectures, and some 80 volumes documenting his work in architecture, design, and the arts

• PAINTER

• SCULPTOR

STEINER AS ARCHITECT

But it is his work as an ARCHITECT that focuses our attention upon him. Rudolf Steiner designed numerous buildings, but it is crowning achievement—the GOETHEANUM, an architectural work of significant size and complexity, built entirely of exposed, cast-in-place concrete—that makes him a candidate to be called: “THE ORIGINAL BRUTALIAST” ARCHITECT.

THE TWO GOETHEANUMS

Actually, there were two “Goetheanum” buildings, both built in Dornach, Switzerland—and both designed by Rudolf Steiner, in association with a number of collaborators, craftspeople, and artists, most notably the sculptor Edith Maryon.

In considering Rudolf Steiner’s architectural work, it is important to keep in mind that central to his work and world-view was his focus on spiritual matters—not only his deep research, writing, and teaching on that subject, but he also led a growing community devoted to such explorations. He asserted that his designs (and his artworks within them) were guided by his philosophy—and you can find more about his thoughts on architecture and design (and how they grow from his larger concerns) here.

By-the-way: Steiner, as an architect, was unusual in another way: he was entirely self-taught—neither having gone to architecture school, nor having worked for another architect.

The FIRST GOETHEANUM, named after Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, was begun in 1913, and housed events (especially musical and performance) of the Anthroposophical Society—the organization he founded (which has branches all around the world today.) Dornach became the center for people devoted to Steiner’s work, and the Goetheanum was one of seventeen buildings in the area which he designed between 1908 and 1925. The First Goetheanum was preponderantly made of wood, set upon a concrete base—and it had an unusual double-dome wooden structure. Unfortunately, it was lost to a fire at the end of 1922.

The First Goetheanum, under construction. It was built of wood on a concrete base, and was begun in 1913.

The First Goetheanum, as finished. Unfortunately, it was lost to a fire less than a decade after completion.

After the first Goetheanum was lost to fire, Steiner soon designed and started construction on the Second Goetheanum—shown above at sunset.

A side view of the Goetheanum. It was constructed entirely -both inside-and-out- of exposed, cast-in-place concrete—and Rudolf Steiner’s design handled the raw material with boldness.

The SECOND GOETHEANUM was designed in the year after the first one was lost, and construction started in 1924 (being completed in 1928—just a few years after Steiner’s passing in 1925). 

It houses a variety of cultural facilities: performance spaces (including a 1,000 seat auditorium), a gallery, lecture spaces, and a library—as well as administrative spaces for the organization which Steiner founded, the Anthroposophical Society. It also includes stained-glass windows of richly luminous colors.

You can get an idea of the of the Second Goetheanum’s form and scale—and as a creation by an architect-artist of great power—in the brief video below: “Das Goetheanum” [included here courtesy of Moving Image, and its filmmaker: Roger Maeder.] In the video, it’s also worth noting the smaller buildings surrounding the Goetheanum: most were also done in Steiner’s Anthroposophical architectural mode—either by Rudolf Steiner himself, or subsequently by his followers.

Every view of the Second Goetheanum—like the side view (above) and a window (below)—reveals the plasticity of Rudolph Steiner’s architectural design.

Architectural historians seem to have had a hard time “placing” Rudolf Steiner within the evolutionary tree of Modern architecture. For example: Charles Jencks did not even mention him in the original edition of “Modern Movements In Architecture.” Henry-Russell Hitchcock, in his magisterial "Architecture: Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries,” only gives Steiner the briefest mention—and that is with reference to Erich Mendelsohn’s work at his Einstein Tower (which was built in the same period as the two Goetheanums).

It was up to the historians Dennis Sharp and Conrads & Sperlich, in their fascinating books, to bring Steiner to the wider architectural community. In more recent years, one of the significant books to come out on Rudolf’s architecture is “Eloquent Concrete” by Raab, Klingbord, and Fant.

Despite his under-appreciation by some architectural historians, architects—including some of the most distinguished practitioners—have admired Steiner’s work. Henry van de Velde, Frank Lloyd Wright, Hans Scharoun, and Frank Gehry have all visited the Goetheanum.

Today, there are numerous books on Steiner’s thought, and even his architecture—and one that’s a good introduction to the Second Goetheanum building is this book by Hans Hasler.

The GOETHEANUM was constructed—inside and out—of exposed, cast-in-place concrete.

At below-left is a partial exterior view of the side, and below-right is a a close-up exterior view of a window. Below that are two views of the Goetheanum’s interior. All these images show how Steiner-as-architect used exposed concrete with “a sculptor’s hands” to create dramatic, effusive forms and interiors—including the details and the stairways.

WAS STEINER “THE FIRST BRUTALIST” ARCHITECT?

Rudolf Steiner sought, in all his works, an ultimate unity of spirt, action, humanity, and art—and he aimed for true harmony in every endeavor, seeking to unite the human and divine. So we doubt, if Steiner could have been asked, that he’d have embraced the seemingly hard term, “Brutalism.” But—words (and their associations) aside—his work at the Second Goetheanum most decidedly participates in the spirit and character of Architectural Brutalism (and that would also be true for the other buildings which he constructed for his community at Dornach.)

Those characteristics include:

• boldness of form

• use of materials (like exposed, cast-in-place concrete) in an unabashed manner—often “raw”—as a potent part of the pallete of a talented designer

• shunning of the pretty or merely decorative, and, instead: aiming for a astonishing form of beauty that partakes of the sublime

• not (or more often: not just) “form following function”—but rather: a sculpting and composition of forms to create works-of-architecture that are expressive of the creative spirit

Rudolf Steiner included all of these in his designs—with sensitivity, honesty, artistry, and a powerful exuberance.

And he did this early on, during the formative years of the emergence of Modern architecture. So—while there may be other contenders for the title—in celebration of Rudolf Steiner’s 160th Birthday, we crown him: The First Brutalist Architect !

The Goetheanum as seen from the air. The building’s main entry is at its lower-left. Numerous other buildings, surrounding the Goetheanum, were also designed by Rudolf Steiner (or later by his followers, in the mode in which Steiner worked). Perhaps the most famous of these other Steiner designs, second only to the Goetheanum in renown, is the Heizhaus: it contains the boiler for the Goetheanum’s heating system—and its flame-like chimney can be seen near the top-center of this photo.

FURTHER INFORMATION

The official website of the Goetheanum is here.

A matrix of other buildings, designed by Rudolf Steiner (and access to other information on his multi-faceted life and career) is available here.

Numerous documents, relating to Steiner’s architecture and philosophy of design, can be accessed here.

IMAGE CREDITS

The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation thanks all the individuals and organizations who have made their images available for this scholarly and educational work.

Note: Each Wikimedia Commons link is to the information page for that particular image. Information about the rights to use each image, as well as technical info, can be found on those pages.

Credits, from top-to-bottom, and left-to-right:

Front entrance view of the Second Goetheanum: photo by Wladyslaw (talk), edits by: Dontpanic (aka Dogcow), via Wikimedia Commons; Photograph of Rudolf Steiner, circa 1905, Abbildung übernommen aus Wolfgang G. Vögele, Der andere Rudolf Steiner - Augenzeugenbrichte, Interviews, Karikaturen, 2005, S. 116, in the Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons; First Goetheanum, under construction: image from Jjdm at Hungarian Wikipedia as original uploader; edited by Jaybear, via Wikimedia Commons; First Goetheanum, completed: photo in public domain, via Wikimedia Commons; Second Goetheanum, at sunset: photo by Taxiarchos228, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons; Side view of Second Goetheanum: photo by Wladyslaw, via Wikimedia Commons; “Das Goetheanum”—the video of the second Goetheanum: courtesy of Moving Image, and its filmmaker: Roger Maeder; Side view of Second Goetheanum (with blue sky): photo by Barbara Steinemann, via Wikimedia Commons; Partial view of exterior side: via Wikimedia Commons; Window of Second Goetheanum: photo by Soare, via Wikimedia Commons; Staircase inside Second Goetheanum: photo by Maioting, via Wikimedia Commons; Interior of Second Goetheanum, with figure: via Wikimedia Commons; Aerial view of the Second Goetheanum: photo by Taxiarchos228, via Wikimedia Commons

John Waters Loves Brutalism !

In John Waters’ latest book, “Mister Know-It-All,” this image accompanies his Brutalism-o-philic chapter, “My Brutalist Dream House.” The collage is titled “Monstrosity Manor” and was created by the multi-talented Marnie Ellen Hertzler. Courtesy of Marnie Ellen Hertzler

WHAT HAVE WE COME TO EXPECT FROM JOHN WATERS?

John Waters: avowed Brutalism-o-phile.

The multiple accomplishments and talents of John Waters—simultaneously controversial and celebrated—are known world-wide. Cultural provocateurs thrive on surprising their audience—but, with John Waters, we are all so familiar with his oeuvre that we already have expectations about what his upcoming productions and pronouncements will—more-or-less—be like:

• Edgy filmmaking— depend on it.

• Writing and repartee that’s witty and subversively insightful— of course.

• Art Direction that’s visually luscious and a bit shocking (though always fitting)— certainly.

• A delightful (if occasionally disturbing) presence— yes, and that’s been well-cultivated over several decades.

Waters, no fool, is well aware of the problem:

“Somehow I became respectable. . . .I used to be despised but now I’m asked to give commencement addresses at prestigious colleges, attend career retrospectives at both the Film Society of Lincoln Center and the British Film Institute, and I even got a medal from the French government for “furthering the arts in France.” This cockeyed maturity is driving me crazy!. . . .Suddenly the worst thing that can happen to a creative person has happened to me. I am accepted. . . .How can I whine about my films being hard to see when Warner Bros. now handles many of my titles and Criterion, the classiest of all DVD distributors, is restoring some of my rudest celluloid atrocities? . . .How could that be? How?”

But John Waters has one more surprise for us: he’s come out as an avowed lover of Brutalism.

We didn’t see that one coming.

“LOVING” BRUTALISM?—YES! (BUT IN WHAT WAYS?)

The term “lovable” is rarely connected to Brutalism—-and when it is (as in the title of John Grindrod’s book, “How To Love Brutalism”) one can sense the writer’s (and maybe the reader’s) frisson at putting the words Love and Brutalism in close proximity.

When “love” is used in association with Brutalism, usually it’s not in the sense of a loving personal warmth (of the type we’d direct at, lets say, our families)—and there isn’t much “hygge”-like quality in Brutalism. So expressing “love” for Brutalism is using the word in another, more colloquial sense, for the times when one finds something compelling and intriguing—like one might say: “I love the intensity in Picasso’s ‘Guernica’ ” -or- “I love the way Beckett’s ‘Waiting for Godot’ depicts the human condition” -or- “I love Winter mountain camping at high altitudes.”

WATERS’ LATEST

So when John Waters expresses his deep love for Brutalism—and in a rather personal way—we think we’re on to his game: by embracing an unlikely combination, he’s once more grabbed the reins of the 5th Horse of the Apocalypse—nose thumbing at convention—and riding forth at full gallop.

This comes up in his book, “Mr. Know-It-All” — his recent and abundant collection of gleaming essays. In it, he covers topics as diverse as his own adventures with filmmaking, love, writing, success (or the lack of it), bad behavior, publicity, food, Andy Warhol, music, taste—and much more. Even if one’s not pre-disposed to be interested in John Water’s doings, each chapter manifests his abilities as a storyteller and thinker—so the quality of writing, and the incisiveness of his observations, makes this a book that deserves a readership which transcends his regular fan base.

An additional feature of the book is that it’s punctuated by photos, images, and ephemera from his own collection. That would be a treat for any Waters-o-phile—but even if you’re not in that blessed category, what he’s chosen has visual punch. His chapter on Brutalism is headed by a collage composed from architectural images, titled “Monstrosity Manor”—and the picture has a haunting, forbidding power. It was created by Marnie Ellen Hertzler [see top of this article.]

WATERS’ BRUTALIST DREAM

One chapter is titled “My Brutalist Dream House”—and, naturally, that’s what got our attention!

Waters considers how one needs to transcend normal, there-by-default homes (the kind most of us end-up living in)—and he goes at the topic with gusto:

In the chapter on his ideal Brutalist home, Waters mentions that the living room would feature the “cement laden” furniture of Doris Salcedo.

“You need to move beyond any kind of taste to a new level of architectural defiance. There’s only one way to start over. Brutalism.”

Waters is aware that Brutalism has had a revival, with new and sympathetic interest in its planet-spanning manifestations—and he’s not happy about that development:

“Yet these days brutalism is making a comeback. I’m distressed that this style of architecture has become cool.”

Waters asserts that Peter Chadwick’s “This Brutal World” is his “favorite coffee table book”—a most essential part of his Brutalist dream house’s book collection—and he mentions it at the climax of his essay.

Always wanting to be contra—on the outside of accepted taste—he’d prefer to contrastingly stand out, and be

“. . . .the only one left with a brutalist home. Can’t somebody stop all these I Love Brutalism websites from celebrating this once-loathed style of architecture?”

Not to be defeated by the recent emergence of Brutalism-philia, Waters proceeds along a satirical path by imagining his own Brutalist dream house—a place he calls “Monstrosity Manor.” Its forbidding, fortress-like exterior leads to threatening interiors, and he describes its uninviting parts as though they’re attractive features (at least to him.) Contrasting it to Wright’s Fallingwater, Waters characterizes his design aspirations:

“. . . .think of Monstrosity Manor as tougher. . . . Nobody’s coming over to borrow a cup of sugar. The grounds would be unforgiving even for students of architecture. . . .A No Trespassing sign would be totally redundant.”

And here’s an example of the house’s Addams-esque (in Modern mode) features—and this is perhaps the mildest of them:

“. . . .you might need to settle yourself on the stairs. . . .There’s no handrail to balance yourself, and if you’re not careful, you could trip over the sculptor Carl Andre’s twelve small copper tiles that were purposely designed to be hidden on the sides or back of the steps for your minimalist artistic danger and enjoyment.”

[Does that passage indicate that Waters was aware of Paul Rudolph’s occasional omission of stair railings in some projects? (something Rudolph did for dramatic effect, mainly in residential projects, in an era of looser building codes.) Clearly, Waters is aware of Rudolph: near the end of the essay he namechecks Rudolph, and mentions his Temple Street Garage at a peak moment in the chapter’s narrative.]

“My Brutalist Dream House” is lots of fun—especially if one is knowledgeable of the architectural references, motifs, and conventions which Waters gleefully satirizes via hyper-exaggeration. Even if his stance is not a surprise, once again the guru of gross-out has managed to stimulate and delight us.

BOOK INFORMATION AND AVAILABILITY:

• TITLE: Mr. Know-It-All

• AUTHOR: John Waters

• PUBLISHER: Picador

• PRINT FORMAT: paperback, 5-1/2 x 8-1/3 inches , 384 pages, numerous black & white illustrations

• ISBN: 9781250619464

• ALTERNATIVE FORMATS: hardcover and digital versions are available

• PUBISHER’S WEB PAGE FOR THE BOOK: here

• AMAZON PAGE: here

• BARNES & NOBLE PAGE: here
  

IMAGE CREDITS

Photo portrait of John Waters: courtesy of PEN American Center, via Wikimedia Commons; Concrete furniture: Image by Kapelusz, courtesy of Wikimedia commons

A SERIOUS THINKER TAKES ON "BRUTALISM"

The exterior of the main hall of the Kyoto International Conference Center in Japan, designed by Sachio Otani. Kate Wagner uses a photo of this building in the introduction to her new series of articles, in which she considers Brutalism and other key issues in architecture. A detail of a photograph by Daderot; photo courtesy of Wikipedia.

Who Doesn’t Just Love McMansion Hell ?

You know it— McMansion Hell, Kate Wagner’s smart, funny, pointed, and insightful blog-website about what’s wrong (and occasionally right) with architecture, urbanism, and the environment. It’s most well-known for her “comedy-oriented takedowns of individual houses”, in which she shows, in her clear-eyed opinion, some of the most egregious “McMansions” and hilariously points out what’s false, ostentatious-without-taste or sense, or just dumb about them.

An sample, from a recent entry on the McMansion Hell blog, of Kate Wagner’s sharp analysis of a “McMansion”. This one is from June 13, 2019, which you can read in-full here.

Hmmmm. Maybe the only people who don’t like McMansion Hell are those who market such pretentious flab. If you aren’t a regular visitor to McMansion Hell, we recommend you do so—it is a constant eye-opener—and if you want a rich education, also explore the site’s archive.

More Than Satirical

Yes, via her sharpshooter aim at flatulent architecture (and its boosters), she does evoke hilarity (tho’ one that has an authentically public-spirited purpose). But it’s really worth underlining that she’s a penetrating and careful (and caring) thinker—one of the most articulate on the scene today. Her writings take on vital issues, and she readily and clearly (with delightful power) points out what’s full of pretension, hypocrisy, obscuring and inflated language, or just muddy thinking.

An Approach to Brutalism—One That’s Needed, NOW

Here at the Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation, it got our attention when Kate Wagner announced that she was commending a 5-part blog series on Brutalism. That term— “Brutalism”—has been used against Paul Rudolph like a demolition battering ram—and, less frequently, as a term of praise (tho’ sometimes bafflingly, to those outside intricacies of the debate.)

The opening page, image, and paragraph of McMansion Hell’s 5 part series on Brutalism. We’re delighted that she starts off with a image of one of Paul Rudolph’s most fascinating projects: his campus design at UMass Dartmouth.

She explains the need for a thoughtful approach to the phenomenon (and built works) of Brutalism, explaining:

I’ve been a spectator to this debate since I first lurked in the Skyscraper City forums as a high school freshman, ten years ago, when Brutalism itself sparked the interest in architecture that brings me here today. I have, as they say, heard both sides, and when asked to pick one, my response is unsatisfying. Though my personal aesthetic tastes fall on the side of “Brutalism is good,” I think the actual answer is  it’s deeply, deeply complicated. 

And insightfully adds (and questions): 

Brutalism has a special way of inspiring us to ask big and difficult questions about architecture. “Is Brutalism good?” is really a question of “is any kind of architecture good?” - is architecture itself good? And what do we mean by good? Are we talking about mere aesthetic merits? Or is it more whether or not a given work of architecture satisfies the purpose for which it was built? Can architecture be morally good? Is there a right or wrong way to make, or interpret, a building? 

 She declares the need to approach this topic with the subtlety it deserves—and the urgency it demands::

I have bad news for you: the answers to all of these questions are complicated, nuanced, and unsatisfying. In today’s polemical and deeply divided world of woke and cancelled, nuance has gotten a bad rap, having been frequently misused by those acting in bad faith to create blurred lines in situations where answers to questions of morality are, in reality, crystal clear. This is not my intention here. 

Existential questions aside, there are other reasons to write about Brutalism. First, while we’ve been hemming and hawing about it online, we’ve lost priceless examples of the style to either demolition or cannibalistic renovation, including Paul Rudolph’s elegant Orange County Government Center, Bertrand Goldberg’s dynamic Prentice Women’s Hospital in Chicago, and the iconic Trinity Square, Gateshead complex, famous for the role it played in the movie Get Carter. My hope is that by bringing up the nuances of Brutalism before a broad and diverse audience, other buildings on the chopping block might be spared. 

 And promises:

This is a series on Brutalism, but Brutalism itself demands a level of inquiry that goes beyond defining a style. Really, this is a series about architecture, and its relationship to the world in which it exists. Architects, as workers, artists, and ideologues, may dream up a building on paper and, with the help of laborers, erect it in the material world, but this is only the first part of the story. The rest is written by us, the people who interact with architecture as shelter; as monetary, cultural, and political capital; as labor; as an art; and, most broadly, as that which makes up the backdrop of our beautiful, complicated human lives. 

Yes, this series is going to be an absorbing adventure. Kate Wagner is not only examining Brutalism, but also taking-on some of the most vital questions around architecture—and we look forward to future installments!

BRUTMOBILE!

Wolf Vostell, Concrete Traffic, 1970. Campus Art Collection, The University of Chicago. Photo by Michael Tropea. Art © The Wolf Vostell Estate.

Wolf Vostell (1932-1998) might not be a readily-recognized name today, but - primarily from the 60’s -to- the 80’s - he was known as one of the world’s most creatively provocative artists. He often made stimulating & challenging visual statements by incorporating the products of industrial civilization - cars, motorcycles, planes, and [especially] televisions - into his work, and he’s reputedly the first artist in history to integrate a television set into a work of art.

Even if less known today, Vostell might be familiar to the generation of architects educated in the 1970’s, as he was co-author of the 1971 book Fantastic Architecture - a wonder-filled little compendium of artist-generated projects with architectonic flavor.

The simple-minded think that Brutalism is just about concrete - but we know that’s not even close to accurate. Even so, it is often-enough identified with concrete - and that’s where the intersection with Vostell comes in. The man had an intense relationship with both cars and concrete—and in a number of his works, he encased whole automobiles in the material.

One such example is his 1970 artwork, “Concrete Traffic”, now located in a garage in Chicago:  it is a 1957 Cadillac, to be precise, which is entombed in 15 cubic yards of gray loveliness!

It’s an extraordinary sight - Brutalism that looks like it’s about to speed off! - and additional views (and more) can be seen here.

A rear view of Vostell’s concrete car. Photo by Michael Tropea.

Brutalism in Virtual Reality

View fullsize

Image: Moshe Linke

Moshe Linke creates beautiful art games in which you can freely explore Brutalist environments. Most of them can be downloaded here: https://moshelinke.itch.io 

Here are a couple of our favorite images from his work:

Fugue in Void

According to the developer’s description:

Explore all kind of mysterious places and dive into a world full of atmosphere. Let this experience unfold in your head.  Let it inspire you.

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

Brutalism - Prelude on Stone

According to the developer’s description:

Brutalism: Prelude on Stone was a rather small project for me under the theme "Forces".  It is a small installation art exhibition set in brutal environment. You can freely explore a huge brutalist building. Here and there you are going to find art installations. All the art installations deal with the elements and nature. With it comes a rich soundscape that plays perfectly together with the visuals. I wanted to depict a harsh contrast between the elements and brutalist architecture. In the future there is still erosion from water, wind and other forces.

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

Wonders Between Dunes

According to the developer’s description:

Travel through a wonderful mysterious world and explore huge brutal architecture. Stroll through deserts. Stroll through lush jungles. Walk deep inside the belly of concrete monsters and feel the enormous weight of the city above you. Discover wonders between dunes.

A almost dream like experience waiting for you. Relax and take a break from all those action packed games out there.

Image: Moshe Linke

Brutalism, with its simple forms and dramatic environments, is a powerful experience in virtual space.

With virtual gaming getting more popular, we look forward to the day we can virtually walkthrough a Paul Rudolph designed space. Until then, we will sit back and try not to look too far over the edge of that staircase.