Thank you Susanne. It's a building I return to time and time again. Helped by the Hayward Gallery being next door which regularly has interesting exhibitions.
"Ode to concrete" is an hilarious tribute to what Andrew does, but it hits the mark. He sees the intent and the beauty in the oft-derided architectural genre of brutalism.
It's an extremely useful building material. You can paint it, you can stain it, you can make it look pretty much any way you like. I do not know why people give it crap.
I can tell you right now I would much rather live in a house built of concrete than one built of wood. Death-watch beetles and termites cannot infest concrete.
It’s remarkable, Andrew. The sensation of space compared to cramped West End theatres is palpable and almost everywhere you go there’s a terrace or balcony to enjoy
Great shots, I appreciate the perspectives, I feel like I've really seen the structure myself. But beautiful? Oppressive comes to mind. Impressively so.
Thank you. It doesn’t feel oppressive when you walk round it. Perhaps due to the atmosphere - it’s open space where locals, dating couples, tourists and runners pass through.
You've done something few men have done. You've made this Scotsman miss London. All joking aside, I love the South Bank, and your photos bring out that indescribable pleasure. I was taken there by a girl I was dating in the early 2000s. My first journey to London as an adult. 22 years have gone and I still think of her and the booksellers we found when I'm on the bank. I bought a biography of Gertrude Stein. I loved the architecture of the NT before I knew what I loved about architecture. I loved reading this! (The article, not the biography. The biography was a little dry).
Well I’m glad to have done something few others have done! That’s a lovely story. The South Bank is one of the best places to stroll in London - a good place for young dates. Thank you for reading - glad it brought back some memories.
I agree with perfectlight about the photos being "well presented". Great job. By themselves, those photos would be just fine, but in your presentation they rise above it, creating a mood and world one can get lost in, at least for a while.
Great work Andrew. It is such a wonderful building - as beautiful on the inside as it is the outside. Big fan of Lasdun’s work, quite a unique style - take Keeling house for example ...
I gotta be honest, I hate brutalism from the bottom of my heart. It just makes me depressed. Especially in cold climates where it’s grey a lot of times. It has no life to me. But I totally accept that other people think it’s great.
I appreciate your comprehensive coverage of this building; it's one of my favorite locations in South Bank, though I was unacquainted with it's architectural significance. We were there last summer and the whole ambience was wonderful.
Beautiful photos in very cooperative light. You also managed to capture some lovely cloud formations, which are rather difficult to control.
I once had a stopover in Los Angeles and took the day to visit Richard Meier's J Paul Getty Centre. Unlike the buildings you have discussed, it is very much a campus apart from the city and public life. Travertine is the dominant cladding material. Although it has colour and texture, I prefer rough concrete with the imprints of the wooden forms. In London light, the concrete takes on some beautiful, subtle colours (as you point out). The white travertine is just too bright under the stark, unrelenting Los Angeles light. I tried taking photos of the buildings but I was disappointed by the results. The images were hard, corporate looking, and lacking in vitality, delicacy and life.
Thank you for your comments Mark. The photos were from a number of different visits, but only those with the right (cooperative) light were shared!
I imagine the stark LA light offers different possibilities. Part of the reason I photograph brutalist buildings in a good light is because the architectural style has a very poor reputation, yet some good buildings were made. They were built during a period of post-war optimism when society hoped that anything was possible. Which is something we always need.
You make a really interesting point — that architecture is an expression of the time when buildings are imagined and realised.
When I began my architectural studies in 1975, the architecture section of the university book store was full of books about solar collectors, rammed earth walls, passive solar gain, and so on. One of our first year professors gave our class a tour of his house that under construction at the time — a modest building with small rooms in a rural setting clad in unpainted cedar.
Within a few years, the price of oil had come down and everyone was reading
Denise Scott Brown and Robert Venturi's "Learning from Las Vegas". Architects who had spent the recession honing their rendering skills were finally able to realise their artistic visions. The result was colourful, 2D, stage-set-like, Postmodern buildings, full of architectural references and ideas about civic live and politics from a particular historic and political perspective.
Of course, all of this is easier to see in hindsight. It's much harder to see what is happening when it is happening all around us in real time.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment Mark and sorry I haven’t replied earlier.
I’m discovering post-modernism at the moment and developing a few photo collections for future use. I like the fun of it. Much of it in the UK was privately developed for offices and owner-occupied housing. At a time when the country was being radically transformed from the post-war consensus with an industrial base, into a service based, free-market economy. This contrasts to brutalism which was often built for public use.
One thing I’ve noticed is I can more freely stroll about brutalist buildings, whereas post-modernist buildings are on private property. Which gives me an enjoyable cat and mouse challenge with security guards!
It’s better than it was, but there’s still a few over-enthusiastic security guards who think we are terrorists. I often respond by explaining why it’s an architecturally significant building. It rarely helps, but the exchange is normally good natured.
great photos! well presented
Thank you very much.
It almost sounds like an ode to concrete! Beautiful photos and amazing building!
Thank you Susanne. It's a building I return to time and time again. Helped by the Hayward Gallery being next door which regularly has interesting exhibitions.
Did you get to see Sugimoto?
I haven’t been yet - these photos are from previous visits. I’m planning to have a day trip before Christmas and Sugimoto is top of my list.
"Ode to concrete" is an hilarious tribute to what Andrew does, but it hits the mark. He sees the intent and the beauty in the oft-derided architectural genre of brutalism.
Concrete deserves many odes! Thank you for your complimentary words.
It's an extremely useful building material. You can paint it, you can stain it, you can make it look pretty much any way you like. I do not know why people give it crap.
I can tell you right now I would much rather live in a house built of concrete than one built of wood. Death-watch beetles and termites cannot infest concrete.
The NT is by far my favourite theatre in London and is as just as impressive from the inside.
I've never been inside - I think I should!
It’s remarkable, Andrew. The sensation of space compared to cramped West End theatres is palpable and almost everywhere you go there’s a terrace or balcony to enjoy
Can you enter without seeing a performance? I usually visit during day trips to London (or 'inspiration jaunts' as I call them).
Absolutely, Andrew
Great shots, I appreciate the perspectives, I feel like I've really seen the structure myself. But beautiful? Oppressive comes to mind. Impressively so.
Thank you. It doesn’t feel oppressive when you walk round it. Perhaps due to the atmosphere - it’s open space where locals, dating couples, tourists and runners pass through.
Good to know.
Stunning work Andrew!!
Thank you very much Xavi!
You've done something few men have done. You've made this Scotsman miss London. All joking aside, I love the South Bank, and your photos bring out that indescribable pleasure. I was taken there by a girl I was dating in the early 2000s. My first journey to London as an adult. 22 years have gone and I still think of her and the booksellers we found when I'm on the bank. I bought a biography of Gertrude Stein. I loved the architecture of the NT before I knew what I loved about architecture. I loved reading this! (The article, not the biography. The biography was a little dry).
Well I’m glad to have done something few others have done! That’s a lovely story. The South Bank is one of the best places to stroll in London - a good place for young dates. Thank you for reading - glad it brought back some memories.
I agree with perfectlight about the photos being "well presented". Great job. By themselves, those photos would be just fine, but in your presentation they rise above it, creating a mood and world one can get lost in, at least for a while.
Thank you very much Alex - that's very kind of you to write.
Great work Andrew. It is such a wonderful building - as beautiful on the inside as it is the outside. Big fan of Lasdun’s work, quite a unique style - take Keeling house for example ...
Thank you Richard. I haven't seen Keeling House but I've just added it to my London Modern Architecture map for a future walk.
It's a fascinating building - not too far away are two others by him Sulkin and Trevelyan Houses - also worth a visit. https://100realpeople.co.uk/display.html?page=lasdun-social
Thanks for the tips and sharing your photos. Both added to my map!
Great post — it made me look at the National Theatre anew! Thanks Andrew.
Thanks Paddy - it's a beautiful building (despite what King Charles once said!)
I gotta be honest, I hate brutalism from the bottom of my heart. It just makes me depressed. Especially in cold climates where it’s grey a lot of times. It has no life to me. But I totally accept that other people think it’s great.
I appreciate your comprehensive coverage of this building; it's one of my favorite locations in South Bank, though I was unacquainted with it's architectural significance. We were there last summer and the whole ambience was wonderful.
Thank you. It’s a wonderful place to stroll around.
Beautiful photos in very cooperative light. You also managed to capture some lovely cloud formations, which are rather difficult to control.
I once had a stopover in Los Angeles and took the day to visit Richard Meier's J Paul Getty Centre. Unlike the buildings you have discussed, it is very much a campus apart from the city and public life. Travertine is the dominant cladding material. Although it has colour and texture, I prefer rough concrete with the imprints of the wooden forms. In London light, the concrete takes on some beautiful, subtle colours (as you point out). The white travertine is just too bright under the stark, unrelenting Los Angeles light. I tried taking photos of the buildings but I was disappointed by the results. The images were hard, corporate looking, and lacking in vitality, delicacy and life.
Thank you for your comments Mark. The photos were from a number of different visits, but only those with the right (cooperative) light were shared!
I imagine the stark LA light offers different possibilities. Part of the reason I photograph brutalist buildings in a good light is because the architectural style has a very poor reputation, yet some good buildings were made. They were built during a period of post-war optimism when society hoped that anything was possible. Which is something we always need.
You make a really interesting point — that architecture is an expression of the time when buildings are imagined and realised.
When I began my architectural studies in 1975, the architecture section of the university book store was full of books about solar collectors, rammed earth walls, passive solar gain, and so on. One of our first year professors gave our class a tour of his house that under construction at the time — a modest building with small rooms in a rural setting clad in unpainted cedar.
Within a few years, the price of oil had come down and everyone was reading
Denise Scott Brown and Robert Venturi's "Learning from Las Vegas". Architects who had spent the recession honing their rendering skills were finally able to realise their artistic visions. The result was colourful, 2D, stage-set-like, Postmodern buildings, full of architectural references and ideas about civic live and politics from a particular historic and political perspective.
Of course, all of this is easier to see in hindsight. It's much harder to see what is happening when it is happening all around us in real time.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment Mark and sorry I haven’t replied earlier.
I’m discovering post-modernism at the moment and developing a few photo collections for future use. I like the fun of it. Much of it in the UK was privately developed for offices and owner-occupied housing. At a time when the country was being radically transformed from the post-war consensus with an industrial base, into a service based, free-market economy. This contrasts to brutalism which was often built for public use.
One thing I’ve noticed is I can more freely stroll about brutalist buildings, whereas post-modernist buildings are on private property. Which gives me an enjoyable cat and mouse challenge with security guards!
The problems associated with photographing buildings on private land seem to be worse in the UK than in other countries, from what I understand.
It’s better than it was, but there’s still a few over-enthusiastic security guards who think we are terrorists. I often respond by explaining why it’s an architecturally significant building. It rarely helps, but the exchange is normally good natured.
All it needs is a few German cannon sticking out of the slits.