BRUTALISM

Brutalism (also called New Brutalism), narrowly defined, was the term used to describe
the theory, ideas, and practice of a small number of young architects in Great Britain
from 1950 to 1960. Broadly conceived, Brutalism came to describe an international
approach to architecture that reflected social ideals, industrial and vernacular means, and
humane goals.
Given the exigencies of building in Europe in the years immediately following World
War II, namely, limited resources and unlimited demand, it was no surprise that the new
generation of postwar architects saw before them not merely opportunity but the
challenge to respond to circumstances that seemed unprecedented in European history.
After World War I, architects seemed to approach the task of rebuilding in Europe with
revolutionary idealism and an optimistic trust in mechanical technology. International
Modernism seemed to represent not only all that was modern but also all that was
valuable in a devalued and degraded world. The generation following World War II had
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less use for idealism, revolutionary or otherwise, and diminished trust in technology. It
was in that context that the Brutalist apothegm “An ethic, not an aesthetic” acquired
significance. The new generation embraced several precepts: first, that architecture
absorbed existential weight; second, that building was the result not of reasoning but of
ethical action; and finally, that International Style modernism was no more than shallow
aestheticism. It was the radicalism of its approach rather than the persuasiveness of its
early monuments that enabled Brutalism to force a transformation of the accepted
conventions of modernism. Despite its short life as an identifiable movement, Brutalism
came to occupy a central position in the redefinition of the history of 20th-century
architecture.
The first built Brutalist work was the Secondary School at Hunstanton in Norfolk,
England (Peter and Alison Smithson, 1954), which employed what seemed at first glance
to be a Miesian aesthetic of pure structural clarity. For a building at that time in Britain to
follow the example of Mies van der Rohe would have been provocative enough, but the
Hunstanton School added another dimension to Miesian clarity: that of the mundane, the
diurnal, the literal. Thereafter, the Smithsons turned their attention to larger questions,
especially the need for a new approach to public housing in post-World War II Europe.
Their new concerns resulted in no built works of their own, but their original ideas
became profoundly influential. The next range of Brutalist buildings were to be the works
of other young British architects; for example, the Terrace Housing (Howell, Howell, and
Amis, Hampstead, 1956), Langham House Development (Stirling and Gowan, Ham
Common, 1958), Architecture School Extension (Wilson and Hardy, Cambridge, 1959),
Park Hill Development (Sheffield City Architect, Sheffield, 1961), and Engineering
School Laboratories (Stirling and Gowan, Leicester, 1963), among others. All of those
examples shared an unyielding emphasis on structural clarity, spatial simplicity, and
material presence, and all contributed to the solidifying of the character of Brutalism in
the general imagination.
The origin of the term Brutalism is not reliably attested, but the most plausible
explanation comes from adaptation of the French phrase beton brut (rough concrete) to describe
the material qualities of many buildings in Europe after World War II, qualities
necessitated by a general lack of the time and resources necessary to obtain finer finishes.
In particular, two works by the Swiss-French architect, Le Corbusier—the Unite
d’Habitation (Marseilles, 1946–52) and the Maisons Jaoul (Neuilly, 1954)—played major
parts in establishing the Brutalist model. In the first case, the Unite d’Habitation
displayed unfinished, boldly concrete surfaces laid out in patterns directly descriptive of
the processes of its fabrication. In Maisons Jaoul, Le Corbusier employed rough
brickwork, tile-surfaced concrete vaults, and raw plywood, mimicking traditional
vernacular building with industrial materials. To be sure, at least one Brutalist building
had appeared in Britain by 1954, but that fact cannot obscure the role of Le Corbusier’s
works as precursors of the new wave. To the smooth white planes and elegantly balanced
compositions of International Style (to whose definition Le Corbusier himself had made
major contributions before 1939), Brutalism contrasted unfinished, natural-colored
surfaces and seemingly awkward arrangements of parts, only too often revealing messy
and formerly hidden mechanical functions. Indeed, even when smoothly finished,
Brutalist buildings appeared crude and ordinary, with what some critics saw as willful
perversity.
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Again, although it was at first essentially a British phenomenon, Brutalism’s reach
soon included such European examples as the Architect’s House (A.Wogenscky, Remyles-
Chevreuses, France, 1957), the Istituto Marchiondi (V.Vigano, Milan, Italy, 1959),
and the Alder House (Rothrist, Switzerland, 1958) and a factory (Thun, Switzerland,
1960), both by Atelier 5. Furthermore, the catalytic role of Le Corbusier endured with his
buildings for the Capitol Complex (Chandigarh, India, 1951–65), together with the
monastery of La Tourette (Eveux-surl’Arbresle, France, 1955), all of which employed beton b ru t
at heroic scale and with great expressiveness. In every case, the effect was of a kind of
peasant or industrial vernacular, using the simplest materials in the simplest ways,
applying them to modern programs at modern scale.
Nonetheless, despite its radical appearance, Brutalism could claim, if not legitimacy,
at least ancestry in pre-World War II modernism. The early work of Hugo Haering (Farm
Building, Garkau, Germany, 1925), and Antonio Sant’Elia (unbuilt Futurist projects,
Italy, c. 1911–14) were acknowledged sources. Before them, the German architects Peter
Behrens, Bruno Taut, and Hans Poelzig could be included as forerunners. Equally, it
would be wrong to ignore the role in the development of Brutalism and the spread of its
ideas played by the contemporary architectural press. On the one hand, Architectural Review, the oldest
continuing architectural periodical in Britain, gave much attention during the 1950s to
vernacular tradition, early industrial monuments, and historic urban environments; on the
other, Architectural Des ign, the newest, gave prominent place to the latest, the most provocative works.
Between them, seen as they were across the world, they contrived both to inspire young
British architects and to spread the message of the new British architecture.
Brutalism, or at least its influence, also traveled to the United States. In the Yale Art
Gallery Extension (Louis Kahn, New Haven, 1949–53), which predated most British
examples, sur faces were selectively coarse or smooth whereas composition was
rigorously classical. A decade later, in the Yale Art and Architecture Building (Paul
Rudolph, New Haven, 1961–63), which depended entirely on European models, surfaces
were uniformly roughened, material choices were entirely aesthetic, and composition was
wholly picturesque. In the Mummers’ Theater (J. Johansen, Oklahoma City, 1970),
surfaces were randomly rough, smooth, or colored; material choices were inconsistent;
and composition was accidental.
Brutalism’s historical origins shed light on the movement’s profound worldwide
influence, despite the fact that it was initiated by a small group of people in a relatively
small place (or of limited geography). Before World War II, monuments of international
modernism, based as it was on the industrialization of building, had been confined largely
to the countries of its origin; namely, Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia, France, and the
Netherlands. Although spread had begun before 1939, the years of the war had
interrupted that flow. After 1945 the triumph of international modernism seemed certain,and so it came to pass in the most highly industrialized country in the world, the
United States, and in the work of architects trained in the 1930s. By contrast, the first
post-World War II generation in Britain knew this history but rejected it. In that view, the
war had shown that all those who had bought into the promise of an industrial utopia had
been fatally compromised. What was needed was an architecture that was industrially
based, but not ideological, and especially not political. Soviet Communism, Italian
Fascism, and German National Socialism had each claimed leadership of the modern
world and had employed architecture as demonstration of its claims. In the aftermath of
the most destructive warfare in European, if not world, history, it seemed clear that
architecture should assume a new role in society, a role dissociated from politics as such
and focused on human needs in the simplest sense. It was in response to that perception
that the first practitioners of Brutalism chose to employ exposed materials, rough
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textures, and seemingly awkward compositions, and it was those physical characteristics
that came to typify the movement in the general understanding.
Despite the brevity of the list of genuinely Brutalist buildings, in Britain and
elsewhere, the influence of Brutalism lay far less in the aesthetic concerns demonstrated
in its built works than in the ethical concerns manifested in its challenge to accepted
views. In that respect, Brutalism took its place beside other contemporary phenomena;
namely, literature and film. The writings of Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre and the
films of Roberto Rossellini and Vittorio de Sica were only some of those manifestations
of postwar despair, rejection, and existential rage. In Britain the works of writers such as
John Osborne and John Braine, of painters such as Francis Bacon and John Bratby, and
of sculptors such as Eduardo Paolozzi and Reg Butler displayed a rejection not just of the
war and its seemingly pointless waste of lives and resources but also of the seemingly
meaningless continuation of the attitudes and practices of the past.
At first, Brutalism seemed, even to its most ardent adherents, to be an idea isolated in
time (the 1950s) and place (Britain). Its chronicler, Reyner Banham (The New Brutalism), had little
confidence in Brutalism’s future recognition as more than a minor episode in the history
of 20th-century architecture. In both the senses, ethical and aesthetic, in which Brutalism
came to be viewed, that estimate was too pessimistic. The ethical part of Brutalism
survived because of its continuation of the principle established by A.W.N.Pugin and the
Cambridge Camden Society as far back as 1840: The ultimate test of design is its social
worth. The aesthetic aspect of Brutalism, assuming that the test of social worth has been
met, follows directly from material character—itself, if truthful, socially worthy by
definition. All over the built world today can be seen works that accept or challenge the
issues that Brutalism brought to attention; namely, if building is for the people, should it
not be of the people (vernacular forms)? If building is to invoke virtue, should it not itself
be virtuous (truth in materials)? If building is to be meaningful, should it not embody
meaning in itself (social worth)? The questions put by Brutalism have yet to be answered
with finality, and that is its continuing legacy.

BRUSSELS, BELGIUM

Brussels, the capital of Belgium, played a vital role in the history of modern architecture
at the turn of the century. Since 1890 a group of young architects such as Victor Horta
(1861–1947), Paul Hankar (1861–1901), O. van Rijselberghe (1855–1929), and Henri
van de Velde (1863–1957), to name just a few, were essential in creating a new art: the
Art Nouveau. Versatile in many disciplines, their buildings would be designed into the
finest detail encompassing building facades, interior spaces, decorative structures,
furniture, wallpaper designs, doorknobs, and sometimes even the dress for the hostess.
This aesthetic quest in search for perfect harmony would dominate the avant-garde
architecture until the eve of World War I.
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During the Interbellum, movements with more vigor and amplitude promoted a rationalization of
the building process. In order to solve the problems of Brussels’s overcrowded inner-city
area, garden cities were developed in its suburbs. Notorious examples are the Cité
Moderne (1923, St.-Agatha-Berchem) by Victor Bourgeois (1897–1962), the Kapelleveld
(1926, St.Lambrechts-Woluwe) by Huibrecht Hoste (1881–1957), and Le Logis (1927,
Boisfort/Bosvoorde) by Jean-Jules Eggericx (1884–1963) and Louis van der Swaelmen
(1883–1929).
Besides these collective habitations, these avant-garde architects also experimented
with individual residences. Henri van de Velde’s house in Tervuren (1928), Hoste’s
bourgeois house in Woluwe St. Pierre (1932) and by L.H.De Koninck’s (1896–1984)
Dotremont house in Uccle (1932) illustrate how, once liberated from traditional
construction methods, their technical virtuosity reached a most refined plastic expression.
The designs for public buildings during that period were mainly experimentation
grounds with the new material rein-forced concrete and complex building programs.
Horta’s Palais des Beaux-Arts (1928) has both classical and Art Deco stylistic features
and is built in reinforced concrete. The complicated plan reveals the architect’s primary
concern, namely, to accommodate a complex building program on an irregular sloping
site. The Institut Bordet (1934) by Gaston Brunfaut (1899–) and Stanislas Jansinsky
(1901–), with its white-colored balconies, form an objective expression of its hospital
function. And the Sanatorium of Tombeek (1935) by Maxime Brunfaut (1909–)
illustrates how by the end of the 1930s, architecture had become truly functional.
During the years following World War II, a succession of different architectural
tendencies would leave their undeniable mark on the urban landscape. The North-South
connection, a master plan developed back in the 19th century, took until 1945 to be
completed. This urban intervention longitudinally dissected the city and left a whole area
that needed to be redeveloped. A variety of public buildings in a number of styles were
erected, such as the new colossal National Bank building (1945) by M.Van Goethem, the
Kunstberg/Mont des Arts (1947) by J.Ghobert, the State Administrative Center (1955) by
the group Alpha (H.Kuyck, M.Lambrichts, G.Riguier), and the Central Station (1952)
designed by Horta and completed under M. Brunfaut.
Housing programs, both individual and collective ones, remained the most important
architectural tasks during this post-war period. Villas, with facades in noble materials,
such as natural French stone, adorned Brussels’s most prominent boulevards leading to
suburbs such as Tervueren and Uccle/Ukkel. Few of these buildings have a modern
character. Exceptions are the residences in Uccle/Ukkel (1954) by L.J.Boucher (1929–),
J.P.Blondel (1924–), and O.Filippone (1927–). Row houses, the most common type of
townhouses in Brussels, formed continuous street elevations in new neighborhoods such
as Evere, Koekelberg, and Woluwe. Awarded the Van de Ven Prize for architecture in
1954, E.Delatte’s (1910–) design for his own house sets the standard: a garage and entry
hall on the ground level, daytime spaces on the first floor, nighttime spaces on the second
floor, and a brick facade. Apartment buildings were an attempt to change the monotony
of this typology. Noteworthy examples are the apartment buildings (1949) by Josse
Franssen in Schaarbeek, the duplex apartments in the high-rise tower (1954) by W.Van
der Meeren in Evere, and the Model City on the Heysel/ Heizel (1958) by R.Braem,
Coolens, Panis, and Van Doosselaere and the firms L’Equerre and Structures. The latter
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created an entirely new, autonomous, harmonious, and lively neighborhood in close
travel distance to downtown.
Whereas before World War II, modernism would be generated in Europe and
emulated in the United States; after World War II, Europe borrowed ideas from America
to further develop its cities. Public buildings such as the offices of the Prévoyance
Sociale (PS), designed in 1957 by H.Van Kuyck (1902–), introduced the American
technique of the curtain wall. The Corporate Headquarters Offices of the Bank Lambert
(1965) were designed by Gordon Bunshaft (1909–90), a partner of Skidmore, Owings
and Merrill. Although for the latter this project was merely an intermediate step in an
evolving typology, for Brussels it represented a primer with its freestanding pillars that
support the cross-shaped prefabricated concrete elements of the elevation. This
procedure, which alleviated multiple shortcomings of the curtain wall, has been emulated
in many projects. An example is the Glaverbel office building (1967, Watermael-
Boisforts/ Watermaal-Bosvoorde) by R.Braem, P.Gullisen, A.Jacqmain (1921–), and
V.Mulpas, with its perfect circular plan and its elevation of discrete blue-stone slabs
attached to consoles in reinforced concrete. By the end of the 1960s, Brussels, with its
office towers, curtain walls, flat roofs, and freestanding columns, had developed after the
American model.
During the 1970s and 1980s, Belgian architecture freed itself from the doctrines of the
International Style and redirected its attention to its historical architectural and urban
heritage. At first various retro styles, such as neoecclecticism, neo-Art Nouveau and neo-
Art Deco, were rekindled; yet they did not, besides some ersatz products, make any
valuable contributions. The Belgian capital in search for its own identity did not find a
new architectural style. Noteworthy for the period are some remarkable architectural and
urban rehabilitation projects. The beautiful Salon du Concert Noble designed by
H.Beyaert in the 19thh century became an integral part of a new office building. And in
1983, it was decided that the new Museum of Modern Art (R.Bastin, L.Beeck) at the
Place Royale/Koningsplein had to be built completely below ground around a central
courtyard to minimally impact this historically significant urban context.
The last decade of the century is marked by a rekindled interest in qualitative
architecture. Typical for the 1990s is the work of H.Daem and P.Robberecht (1950–)
whose minimalist architecture are virtually invisible interventions in existing situations in
order to celebrate a work of art or a significant restored building element. In the Hufkens
gallery (1992), for example, the classical facade was carefully restored while the body of
the house was remodeled into exhibit spaces. The back elevation, with its free-form
composition contrasting open versus closed parts, is incontestably modern. It is
furthermore continued in the roof where it provides idiosyncratic light wells that, in
reference to V.Horta’s nearby townhouses, help to illuminate the otherwise dark interior
spaces.
Exemplary public buildings of the early 1990s are the projects by Ph. Samyn (1948–)
and Partners. Their architecture may be characterized as contemporary high-tech
executions of classical spatial compositions. His Brussimmo Office Building (1993),
erected in the Leopold district where most of the European institutes have their
headquarters, introduced the theme of the double skin. Consisting of two layers, it leaves
a void for easy maintenance, to locate stairs, and to integrate the mechanical systems. By
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concentrating all secondary circulation and mechanical systems along the building’s
perimeter, a flexible plan is created.
Probably the most impressive building in the same area is the European Parliament
(1998) by M.Bouquillon, J.van Pottelsberghe de La Potterie, and G.Maes. Whereas its
spatial composition, with elliptic plan and central hall with vaulted ceiling, derives from
classical sources, its materials and details are undeniably modern and executed with stateof-
the-art technologies. Most important, it forms a new landmark for Brussels and
symbolizes the city’s new role as capital of the European community.