#201: THE RHYTHM OF ARCHITECTURE, PART 2 OF 3 | BRUTALISM AND ARROGANCE

Geisel Library, University of California, San Diego, La Jolla, California (photo by Mitch Hodiono on Unsplash)

Following up on Part 1 of our podcast entitled, “The Rhythm of Architecture,” here are edited excerpts for part two. With host Josh Cooperman, episode S4/E36 was recorded in the fall of 2024 for the series, Doctoring Up Design.
Josh Cooperman: When you look at a Brutalist building’s exposed concrete, why can’t it last? If it’s taken care of, why can’t it last a thousand years?
Anthony Poon: I think it is interesting that you mentioned Brutalism, which has become a kind of punchline of architecture styles. But the name, Brutalism, doesn’t necessarily mean brutal. It’s from “beton brut”, French for “raw concrete.”

I think Brutalist buildings have been demonized. I’m a big fan of Brutalism, and I think these buildings are honest. They have integrity. When I was in college, our architecture building, as most were when they were built in the 60s, were Brutalist concrete structures—raw, bold, with exposed concrete and mechanical ducts and conduits. These buildings might last because of how they were made—the same way the Hollyhock House was made to last a hundred years.

But I think they may not. People tear these Brutalist buildings down, because they’re misunderstood. People try to remodel them and make them more friendly. And maybe they’re not meant to be friendly. Maybe they’re meant to engage you in a different way. Look at the number of renovations at Yale’s School of Architecture before it reached a kind of place that really works. And now that it does, can it last a hundred years?

Josh: One of the things that seems to have been lost in translation is the idea of form and function, and what people love about design and architecture. When I went to tour the Price Tower, I noticed some things about this building that I just think were absolutely awful. I mean awful. When you go up to the 20th floor where Mr. Price’s office was, just outside of his office, there was his secretary. You’re in Bartlesville, Oklahoma. There is nothing around you. You’re looking at miles and miles of just land and beautiful views, actually great vistas. But with the way his assistant’s desk was situated, there was a three-foot tall barrier so she couldn’t look out the window. Come on, it’s…
Anthony: …not cool. It reminds me of visiting one of Frank Lloyd Wright’s homes on my tour to Falling Water. There’s a house called Kentuck Knob. In the bedroom, he put a series of shelves over the head of the bed! The homeowners wondered, “As I get up in the morning, I’m going to hit my head.” Also, it’s impossible to read in bed, because shelves are sticking into the back of your neck. Frank Lloyd Wright would not allow them to move the shelving, even though this house belonged to the homeowners, not the architect. As you say, “Come on!” I mean this was sort of the ego and arrogance I mentioned.

You talked about what appeals to a client. Often, what appeals, right or wrong, is what’s familiar to them. But if we only design what’s familiar and what’s comfortable, there would not be progress. Homeowners, civic leaders, and school teachers, etc. should be challenged to think. Maybe there’s a different way to do things. Risks should be taken.
If you look at any major movements in the world of art, music, architecture or design, movements come from ideas that were quite bold, quite courageous—that took risks. People may not have accepted such moves in the beginning. Think of the first time we had glass window walls or an elevator. Or think of the Eiffel Tower and how much everyone hated it, calling it a monstrosity. Everyone gathered to have it torn down. And it is now one of the most beloved structures in the world.
Josh: Mere exposure effect: People develop an affinity for things of which they have seen before.
Anthony: When we work on projects and show a couple options, the client initially gravitates towards what’s familiar. If it’s a house, I would joke and say, “Your choice kind of looks like an old-fashion grandmother’s house.”
Then they realize that’s not what they’re looking for. They may not know that they’re looking for a modern house, because certain words like “Modernism” and “contemporary architecture” scare people. But when they see what such ideas offer, like natural light, indoor-outdoor connection or flexibility in how you live and socialize, they understand these elements are things to consider and not ignore–and not automatically go back to what looks familiar.
