Brutalist architecture is present all around the country. The Boston Government Service Center, Phoenix Symphony Hall and the Hilton San Francisco Financial District are all examples. But there is an even greater pattern of brutalism amongst college campuses, including the Geisel Library at UCSD, Northeastern University Library and our very own Homer Babbidge Library, located in the middle of Fairfield Way. This has led me to reflect more on the style; the primary function with which the Brutalist movement was established is no longer contributing and/or inciting something amongst schools. Rather than promoting functionality and productivity as it once did after periods of war, it is just becoming obsolete, repetitive and even depressing.
This style of architecture originated in the United Kingdom in the 1950s after World War II. It emphasized raw materials and a very brutal modern approach. In the Brutalist style, structures are as simple as they can get and convey direct messages. Architects were working with materials within their reach and had to settle with these transcendental styles of a new era.
The message Brutalism tries to convey is functionality; not twirling things around and digging for answers, just explicitly putting out a clear understanding of a structure, its forms, materials and textures. Such was the success of the movement that in the early 1960s it made its way to the United States, specifically towards college campuses. The John D. Rockefeller, Jr. Library at Brown University is known to be the first Brutalist college campus library in the country, dating back to 1964. At a time of despair and sadness, the new structures were innovative; they were minimalistic and modern yet amusing. It was something new people looked forward to, not just at Brown but at many other campuses that shortly followed up with this style.
Architects such as Paul Rudolph pioneered and continued to spread this new form of art through schools such as the Yale Married Student Housing (1960) and the Yale Arts and Architecture Building (1969). The style continued to be a triumph throughout the 1960s and 1970s, but what happened by the 1980s? People started to see that in the long run, concrete didn’t hold itself up pretty well due to water damage and the decay diminished the overall aesthetic. British author Anthony Daniels called it “monstrous” over time, also mentioning the architect Le Corbusier: “a single one of his buildings… could ruin the harmony of an entire townscape.” The love for Brutalism was spreading rapidly and massively early on, but the style ended up creating a monotone, depressive and repetitive concrete landscape.
Due to its origins of functionality and “function over form,” the Brutalist movement is making a comeback, and I am against it. The bases and roots of this influence were after periods of war in which concrete and organic forms were the most accessible – the material was not a choice, per se. If we have the opportunity to explore more styles and experiment with new technologies and a variety of resources at reach, why settle for a style that originated from the “bare minimum” in the first place? Brutalism was a success in its time; it created a modern approach mixed with organic forms never seen before, all while working with the basics. But that function is long gone.
When looking at these cubic concrete buildings, there is no incitement of innovation or productivity; rather, there is a monotone and repetitive feeling that can even become depressing. On our own campus, when comparing the Homer Babbidge Library to Wilbur Cross, students might argue that the South Reading Room at Wilbur Cross (the only room in the building that currently serves as a library) is a more adequate environment for study motivation: the tall towers, the earthy, muted and stone-based color scheme, dark noble materials and influences of institutional identity and prestige. As silly as it sounds, a more whimsical environment can boost a learning experience, and I can speak on behalf of many students and myself.
I am not advocating to get rid of Brutalist structures and rebuild libraries. Brutalist architecture should be appreciated and admired for its attributions in a time period of reconstruction and scarce resources. But its symbolism of economic hardships should not be the ideal in an educational structure that is supposed to foster learning. Instead, schools should aim at trying new styles, implementing new colors, shapes and textures, using new technologies in favor of innovation and even preserving the collegiate gothic buildings in which institutions were built with the intention of stimulating education.