Such boldness is never common
Last week Bristol City Council approved the demolition of Rupert St Car Park.
This pioneering and ambitious car park, built between 1959-60, will soon be demolished.
It was the first in England to have a continuous parking ramp. Half a mile of gently rising slope to give cars a place to rest.
Upon opening, The Bristol Evening Post waxed lyrical about it:
“... it has a genuine drama by being so obviously a 20th-century solution to a 20th-century problem. Some of the glamour which 100 years ago attached to the railways, then such potent symbols of man’s advance, attaches to this dramatic building catering for our own favourite method of transport. But it is important to realise that this drama is communicated only because the purpose the building serves – car parking - is expressed very clearly. Such boldness is never common.”
Yes, the motor car was once celebrated and the local paper could afford to write for a discerning reader, rather than an advertising algorithm.
Since the senseless demolition of Birmingham Library in 20161, I have been motivated to photograph post-war structures especially when they are under threat (as so many are).
New generations rarely appreciate the buildings of the previous decades. But I do.
I grew up in a modernist house. Designed by my architect father in the 1950s:
It’s part of who I am.
At this time local authorities had the freedom to build schools, libraries, homes and car parks for the greater good rather than for private profit.
Now local councils are going bust2 and private investors are filling our cities with buildings built to last no more than 40 years.3
This is Rivergate. Built about 20 years ago along the old Portwall4 in Bristol. The whole row of offices now stand empty.
But why defend a car park?
Cars pollute. They dominate cities. They make it difficult to walk or cycle.
But Rupert St is different. Its soft rounded curves, the retro typeface and that long, sweeping slope is what makes it special.5
Its shape stands out from the flat structures either side. It provides a surprise for the eye as you walk down Rupert Street.
I like climbing to the top level and seeing the cityscape from a different perspective.
Today, the construction industry contributes 20% of all carbon emissions (of which 80% is in demolition). Demolition should be the last course of action. Yet planners, architects and investors prefer the lazy option. Perhaps for profit, perhaps as a vain monument to themselves.
Rupert Street car park will be replaced by two 20 and 18 storey towers (for student accommodation), ground floor retail and parking. Blandly built to maximise profit and a four decade lifespan.
Instead the 20th Century Society thinks that this car park could be saved and repurposed as “an historic example of automobile architecture, as a dedicated storage and charging hub for electric and super low-emission vehicles.”
Now there’s an idea.
Birmingham Library was sadly demolished in 2016 and arguably is what has created a groundswell of opinion defefning this iconic buildings. A 4th 20th Century Society said “As architectural fashions come and go, generations will look back and regret the obliteration of this iconic landmark.” A book by David Rowland ‘Paradise 1974-2016’ photographs the rise and fall of John Madin’s Paradise Circus in Birmingham.
Birmingham City Council, which approved the demolition of the Birmingham Library and is the UK’s second largest city, declared itself bankrupt in September 2023.
I’ve recently finished reading ‘Humanise’ by Thomas Heatherwick. A polemic about the blandemic of boring buildings built without imagination or longevity. A good read. I don’t agree with everything he writes but I like how he challenges me to think more deeply about modern architecture.
The 13th century Portwall ran from Temple Gate to the Floating Harbour where it had a fortified tower to keep foreign bounders at bay.
20th Century Society sees a green future for the car park and have objected to the demolition due.
Photos taken on 6th September and 8th October 2023 using a Leica MP (using Kodak Portra film), Leica Q and iPhone 12.
It calls to mind the protests when news broke of the planned demolition of Gateshead's Trinity Square car park. An impressive example of the Brutalist style, it became an iconic cultural and architectural landmark, partly because it was from its roof that Michael Caine threw an enemy to his death in the 1970s gangster film 'Get Carter'. The protests came to nothing, and the carpark, with its adjacent shops and community centre is no more.
Oh, this is such a pity. It is beautiful with the structure that appears from the street as if floating… how many car parks out there can be called beautiful? The adaptive reuse should be the first thing on the agenda, not demolition. This is so sad.