This post sees a return to London and one of my favourite examples of Brutalist architecture, not just one building or block, but an entire complex of concrete. The Barbican Estate.
In 200 AD, defensive walls were built around London by the Romans. This part of the city in central London, not far from Liverpool Street, originally incorporated a grand entrance/gate which was later known as Cripplegate. This would likely have been a Roman 'watchtower'. This area is currently where the Barbican Complex stands. Coming from the Latin word Barbecana - Barbican - refers to a "fortified outpost or gateway, such as an outer defence of a city or castle" for defence purposes.
London suffered mammoth damage during World War II, with the Cripplegate area particularly decimated by enemy bombing. In 1952, the council decided to rebuild and redevelop the site, and new residential accommodation was planned.
Designed by the then young architects Chamberlin, Powell and Bon (who had already become well known for their ground breaking Golden Lane Estate, built in 1954, just north of the Barbican estate), the construction began in 1963 and the accommodation buildings were officially opened in 1969.
Although the whole complex was not finished until 1976 - highlighting the huge effort that went into designing and constructing the estate, which spanned nearly three decades. The concrete design was, of course, widespread and popular in the 1960s and 70s, and was seen as an ambitious utopian way of modern high density residential neighbourhoods. It would combine housing with cultural facilities, but maintain the clear definition between the private and public space.
2,014 apartments were built, which are now home to around 4,000 people. The residential part of the estate is made up of three tower blocks, 13 terrace blocks, and two mews, all grouped around a lake.
The three prominent and distinctive 43 storey tower blocks were at the time of their completion, the tallest residential towers in Europe and still remain today some of the tallest in London.
The construction was the culmination of hugely intensive techniques. According to the Barbican Centre website, the concrete was left to dry for 21 days, after which workers "tooled the surface to expose the granite aggregate" using hand held tools such as pick hammers and bush hammers. This must have been a fiercely meticulous process as "pick-hammering involved pitting the surface to an average depth of 1.25 cm and bush-hammering to no more than 0.6 cm deep". Given that the residential buildings alone contained over 200,000 m² of concrete, this a lengthy and painstaking process.
The Barbican arts centre was only completed after the residential accommodations had been finished. In 1971, Chamberlin, Powell and Bon had drawn up ambitious plans which included: an 1,300 capacity theatre, a library, cinemas, restaurants, a concert hall seating 2,000, an art gallery, and the Guildhall School of Music and Drama. The centre was opened in 1982, a multi layered nexus of entrances and walkways - connecting the residential to the arts.
The complexity of the structure was an utter spark of genius design and engineering. The site was excavated 20 metres below ground level, and the arts centre was built below the elevated podium level - fitting in the large centre in a restricted space. It was compared to a hull of a ship in which much more was contained below the water - or maybe even an ice berg. Like many of these brutalist buildings/complexes, you feel a huge vessel of concrete has docked on dry land. The supreme attention to detail and quality of construction (and indeed, design ingenuity) makes the complex extra special.
Approaching the complex from Liverpool Street, the three towers suddenly spring up, their concrete prowess confident and proud. Emerging from the nearest tube station Moorgate, the towers and complex leap out, making you feel smaller and smaller at every step.
Here was this complicated estate of residential and cultural areas; private and community, intertwined with water and green squares - bundled up in huge lumps of concrete. No wonder the Queen described it as "one of the modern wonders of the world".
It may have been voted London's ugliest buildings in 2003, but for me, it is one of the most beautiful sights of London. Visit at sunset, and the sunlight hitting the towers is pure poetry. The silhouettes of the brutalist structures discovering more angles every time you look. These buildings are alive. They are strong and loud, and yet when the sunlight changes, patterned and symmetrically delicate. The Barbican is a beautiful beast that swallows you up, but washes your soul with a firm but delicious mixture of concrete and culture.
All images by Me -2018/19
In 200 AD, defensive walls were built around London by the Romans. This part of the city in central London, not far from Liverpool Street, originally incorporated a grand entrance/gate which was later known as Cripplegate. This would likely have been a Roman 'watchtower'. This area is currently where the Barbican Complex stands. Coming from the Latin word Barbecana - Barbican - refers to a "fortified outpost or gateway, such as an outer defence of a city or castle" for defence purposes.
London suffered mammoth damage during World War II, with the Cripplegate area particularly decimated by enemy bombing. In 1952, the council decided to rebuild and redevelop the site, and new residential accommodation was planned.
Designed by the then young architects Chamberlin, Powell and Bon (who had already become well known for their ground breaking Golden Lane Estate, built in 1954, just north of the Barbican estate), the construction began in 1963 and the accommodation buildings were officially opened in 1969.
Although the whole complex was not finished until 1976 - highlighting the huge effort that went into designing and constructing the estate, which spanned nearly three decades. The concrete design was, of course, widespread and popular in the 1960s and 70s, and was seen as an ambitious utopian way of modern high density residential neighbourhoods. It would combine housing with cultural facilities, but maintain the clear definition between the private and public space.
2,014 apartments were built, which are now home to around 4,000 people. The residential part of the estate is made up of three tower blocks, 13 terrace blocks, and two mews, all grouped around a lake.
The three prominent and distinctive 43 storey tower blocks were at the time of their completion, the tallest residential towers in Europe and still remain today some of the tallest in London.
The construction was the culmination of hugely intensive techniques. According to the Barbican Centre website, the concrete was left to dry for 21 days, after which workers "tooled the surface to expose the granite aggregate" using hand held tools such as pick hammers and bush hammers. This must have been a fiercely meticulous process as "pick-hammering involved pitting the surface to an average depth of 1.25 cm and bush-hammering to no more than 0.6 cm deep". Given that the residential buildings alone contained over 200,000 m² of concrete, this a lengthy and painstaking process.
The Barbican arts centre was only completed after the residential accommodations had been finished. In 1971, Chamberlin, Powell and Bon had drawn up ambitious plans which included: an 1,300 capacity theatre, a library, cinemas, restaurants, a concert hall seating 2,000, an art gallery, and the Guildhall School of Music and Drama. The centre was opened in 1982, a multi layered nexus of entrances and walkways - connecting the residential to the arts.
The complexity of the structure was an utter spark of genius design and engineering. The site was excavated 20 metres below ground level, and the arts centre was built below the elevated podium level - fitting in the large centre in a restricted space. It was compared to a hull of a ship in which much more was contained below the water - or maybe even an ice berg. Like many of these brutalist buildings/complexes, you feel a huge vessel of concrete has docked on dry land. The supreme attention to detail and quality of construction (and indeed, design ingenuity) makes the complex extra special.
Approaching the complex from Liverpool Street, the three towers suddenly spring up, their concrete prowess confident and proud. Emerging from the nearest tube station Moorgate, the towers and complex leap out, making you feel smaller and smaller at every step.
Here was this complicated estate of residential and cultural areas; private and community, intertwined with water and green squares - bundled up in huge lumps of concrete. No wonder the Queen described it as "one of the modern wonders of the world".
It may have been voted London's ugliest buildings in 2003, but for me, it is one of the most beautiful sights of London. Visit at sunset, and the sunlight hitting the towers is pure poetry. The silhouettes of the brutalist structures discovering more angles every time you look. These buildings are alive. They are strong and loud, and yet when the sunlight changes, patterned and symmetrically delicate. The Barbican is a beautiful beast that swallows you up, but washes your soul with a firm but delicious mixture of concrete and culture.
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