In recent years, there has been a revived interest in brutalism. Not long ago, critics and the public alike reviled the movement known for its large geometric shapes built in reinforced concrete. The buildings were seen as weighty blights, and as examples of modernism?s failures. Yet now, a mix of nostalgia, an uncertain global political climate, and the visual appeal of the buildings on social media has led to a comeback. Brutalism is back with a vengeance.
There is currently a wealth of publications on global and localized brutalism. Each indulges in images of large forms casting dramatic shadows on urban landscapes, like some futuristic vision of utopia?and a generation who grew up in the wake of the 1970s is eating it up. The latest addition to the library is Phaidon?s Atlas of Brutalist Architecture, an exhaustive inventory of 878 structures. Going well beyond its visual appeal, the Atlas gives an objective view of a brutalist past that couldn?t deliver against its promises, but whose design details and motivations have found their way into contemporary architecture. A compendium on this scale?some 560 pages, and 3.4 kilos?testifies to the style?s impact across the world. The editors? introductory essay gives a good synopsis of brutalism?s history, but it?s the buildings themselves that speak to its global prevalence. The Atlas sorts entries by continent and country, helping to draw a distinction between the differing political, sociological and design intentions?and o...