Brutalism: Loved and Loathed in Equal Measure

The birth of Brutalism
The first half of the 20th century was a groundbreaking period for architecture. World events, cultural changes and sweeping technological advances spurred the post-war modernism movement and its ‘form follows function’ catchcry. Brutalism is considered a derivation of modernism, albeit one deserving its own place in history.

Stemming from the French beton brut meaning ‘raw concrete’, the name is misleading. Brutalism’s signature material, concrete ‘in the raw’, was gaining traction for bold, simplified structural forms that captured its authentic quality.

Le Corbusier and Brutalism
Le Corbusier, the flamboyant and complicated genius who aroused either passion or distaste, was a Brutalist trailblazer. He combined socially progressive intentions with a lifelong fascination for the architectural potential of concrete, particularly board-marked ‘beton brut’.

The need for low-cost mass urban housing and public buildings followed World War II destruction. Le Corbusier envisaged “streets in the sky” providing large-scale integrated habitats that encouraged a sense of community. He championed the modernist trend for straightforward buildings free of ornaments or reference to earlier styles.

“Architects internationally were stimulated by these gloriously liberating new options … and were enthralled by the inspiring habitable concrete art of Le Corbusier,” wrote British architectural historian Barnabas Calder in an article extolling Brutalism. Influential architects of the period include Ludvig Mies van der Rohe, Frank Lloyd Wright, Marcel Breuer, Paul Rudolph and Louis Kahn (above with students).

Louis Kahn was an American architect who fused Brutalism with elements of the contemporary international style. His philosophy closely mirrored Le Corbusier’s – he considered architecture to have a leading role in urban planning that facilitated community and family life. He was involved in the post-war regeneration of Philadelphia and several of his public and private projects still stand.

Kahn designed the Salk Institute for Biological Sciences in San Diego, California, in 1962 (pictured). It is considered a national landmark building noted for its grace and expansive vistas.

What makes a building Brutalist?
Concrete wasn’t exclusively Brutalist – other modernist styles adopted it too. Brutalist concrete was left raw, not ‘tidied up’, with the ribbed or timber imprint of the formwork untouched.

Powerful shapes, repetitive, often cubic, geometry, robust textures, concrete fins, narrow windows and strong vertical and horizontal lines cut by diagonals characterise the style. Unadorned expanses of exterior concrete walls often lent a fortress-like appearance. New construction techniques meant decks and platforms could float on reinforced columns or be cantilevered, giving some buildings a top-heavy appearance.

Here’s a look at the different ways one can use concrete at home

Above all, Brutalism unapologetically lauded the materials and functions of its creations, often leaving utilities such as plumbing, wiring and water tanks unconcealed. It revealed the muscular structural quality and imperfect elemental nature of ‘as found’ materials, especially the raw concrete that so fascinated Le Corbusier.

Interestingly, surrealist artist Salvador Dali was an early critic of Le Corbusier’s creations. He called them “the ugliest and most unacceptable buildings in the world”.

Brutalist Britain
Economic depression was a driving factor in post-war Britain’s adoption of Brutalism. Low-cost construction and design led to the mushrooming of housing projects and public buildings. Aesthetically, architects were inspired by the honest sculptural qualities of concrete and its stark industrial impact.

Neglect and disregard for the Brutalist social vision has hastened the deterioration of many examples. The failure to match materials to Britain’s damp, bleak climate resulted in grimy, water- and rust-streaked fortress-like facades, several of which have been demolished, to the delight of many.

Brutalism was divisive from the start and was savagely attacked in Britain. Singled out for special attention was London’s Royal National Theatre (pictured) designed by Denys Lasdun and completed in 1976.

Prince Charles called it “a clever way of building a nuclear power station in the middle of London without anyone objecting”. Conversely, composer Sir John Betjeman was lavish in his praise to Lasdun. He “gasped with delight at the cube of your theatre in the pale blue sky and a glimpse of St Paul’s to the south”.

It is now a highly desirable address, with apartments selling for millions. Architect Piers Gough describes it as “a totally complete, powerful, three-dimensional city wrapped around a sumptuous landscape of green squares and lakes”. Photographs by Anton Rodriguez show the clarity and simplicity of the light-filled interiors.

Early Brutalism in Australia
Initially, many Australian Brutalist buildings were civic structures – government office blocks, halls, university campuses, libraries and cultural venues.

Brutalism also infiltrated residential design. Renowned architect Harry Seidler was considered a Brutalist designer, despite his strong objections to the label. Rose Seidler House (pictured), designed for his mother, was his first Australian project. It caused a sensation – and a few construction hiccups – as Australian suburbia struggled to understand the modernist style.

A later project, the Killara home that Seidler and his architect wife Penelope designed and lived in for more than 40 years, is regarded as a pre-eminent example of Brutalism and worthy of a pilgrimage for Brutalist fans. It features exposed timber-textured, off-form concrete pillars and walls, stone floors and timber ceilings.

Note: The term ‘off-form’ refers to the markings left on a concrete surface from the mould it was poured into to harden.

A bright but brief star in the Brutalist sky was a Bulgarian refugee named Iwan Iwanoff. Known as Perth’s most famous architect, he introduced the city to Brutalist principles through a clutch of extraordinary houses.

Outstanding among these was Marsala House – also known as Dianella’s Disco House – built in 1976 (photographed here by Red Images Fine Photography). The unconventional concrete block construction, futuristic metal panels and light-up disco floor were, as with many Brutalist homes, initially misunderstood. It is now on WA’s heritage places list and has won numerous residential heritage conservation awards after its restoration in 2005 by owners Mark Etherton and Chris Beer, and architects Donaldson and Warn.

Brutalist influence today
This Margaret River home in WA has the scale and austerity, strong horizontal lines and celebration of ‘beton brut’ of earlier examples. With no unnecessary adornment to detract from expanses of concrete wall – bar a narrow ribbon window framing a view to the Indian Ocean – it’s a stunning example of how Brutalism has been translated into this century’s architectural spirit.

This Melbourne home is a tribute to concrete and displays distinctly Brutalist features. Expanses of largely bare off-form concrete walls at the street front echo the ‘fortress’ element of many Brutalist structures, and raw concrete is then used extensively throughout the interiors. It’s an introspective house, in line with the Brutalist concept of designing ‘from the inside out’, placing the focus on how a building serves its purpose behind its facade rather than on the facade itself.

Take a look at these 21 concrete homes from Australia

Here, architects Clinton Murray and Polly Harbison took the construction potential and impact of off-form undressed concrete to its limits, as Le Corbusier did many decades before. Stacked concrete blocks, angled, overhanging and cantilevered, are the defining form, and horizontal windows emphasise the bold lines. This Balmoral home won awards for Residential Architecture – Houses (New) for both the National and NSW Architecture Awards in 2015.

The award-winning House at Hanging Rock by Kerstin Thompson Architects is a home among the gumtrees in a nature reserve north of Melbourne. The Brutalist material selection of predominantly pre-cast concrete was a serendipitous response to two requirements: The owner’s love of Brutalist style and strict bushfire prevention regulations. The thermal, acoustic, durability and fire-proof benefits of concrete serve these demands well.

This home received the National Architecture Robin Boyd award in 2014. Boyd himself designed Canberra’s first Brutalist building, Churchill House.