The Barbican Centre | Brutalism on a Monumental Scale
The Barbican Centre
Brutalism on a Monumental Scale
There are certain buildings that you can look at in a photograph and immediately recognise, and the Barbican Centre in London is certainly one of them.
Concrete, enormous columns, raised walkways, dark passages, unexpected gardens and buildings that seem to disappear into one another – the Barbican is a place that really needs to be explored on foot to appreciate just how ambitious it is.
For anyone interested in Brutalist architecture, it is difficult to think of many places in Britain quite like it.
The Barbican was designed by architects Chamberlin, Powell and Bon as part of the much larger Barbican Estate. What they created wasn't simply another housing development or arts centre. Their intention was effectively to build a new piece of London – a self-contained community where people could live, walk, relax and enjoy culture without the motor car dominating everything around them.
It was an extraordinary idea, particularly considering what had stood here only a few decades earlier.
Rebuilding a Part of London
The area around the present-day Barbican suffered terrible destruction during the bombing of London in the Second World War. Much of the district was devastated and its population had fallen dramatically.
Rather than simply rebuilding the streets that had disappeared, the City of London eventually took the opportunity to try something completely different.
Chamberlin, Powell and Bon developed an ambitious vision for the site, creating what the Barbican itself describes as a "city within a city". Today the wider estate contains around 2,000 flats and approximately 4,000 residents, alongside schools, a church, library, gardens, an artificial lake, conservatory and the Barbican Centre itself.
Construction of the residential estate began during the 1960s, while the arts centre was built between 1971 and 1982.
It is difficult now to imagine just how radical all of this must have appeared at the time.
Concrete Everywhere
The first thing that obviously grabs your attention at the Barbican is the concrete.
And there is a lot of it.
But spend some time looking at the buildings and you begin to realise that it isn't quite as simple as pouring enormous quantities of grey concrete and leaving it there.
Much of the exposed reinforced concrete was deliberately treated to give it its distinctive rough texture. Historic England describes the surfaces as largely pick-hammered, exposing the granite aggregate beneath.
Up close this gives the Barbican an almost handmade appearance.
I particularly like this aspect of Brutalist architecture. From a distance these buildings can appear incredibly severe, but when you actually stand beside them there are often small details everywhere.
At the Barbican you find repeating balconies, deeply recessed windows, enormous supporting columns and concrete surfaces that constantly change depending on the light.
On a dull London afternoon it can look dark and imposing.
When the sun appears, it becomes something completely different.
A City Above the City
One of the most interesting parts of the Barbican for me is the network of raised pedestrian walkways.
The development was deliberately designed on different levels, separating pedestrians from much of the traffic below. Historic England describes the estate as being constructed on a raised pedestrian podium above ground-level parking, with buildings connected by steps, terraces, bridges and walkways.
Walking around it can initially be confusing.
You go up a staircase, across a bridge, around another building and suddenly discover that you are several floors above the surrounding streets.
Then you turn another corner and find water, trees and gardens surrounded by enormous concrete buildings.
That contrast is one of the things I find fascinating about the Barbican.
For all its reputation as a huge concrete development, there are surprisingly peaceful areas within it.
The lake is probably the best example. With the residential blocks rising behind it, the water softens the architecture and gives you one of the classic views of the estate.
There is even a large conservatory hidden within the Barbican Centre.
It is exactly the sort of thing you don't expect to discover inside one of Britain's most famous Brutalist buildings.
The Barbican Centre
At the heart of everything is the Barbican Centre.
Opened by Queen Elizabeth II in 1982, the Centre brought together an extraordinary collection of cultural spaces under one enormous concrete roof. The complex includes theatres, cinemas, galleries, a concert hall, library and conservatory.
The interior is every bit as interesting as the exterior.
Huge concrete columns dominate the foyers, while broad staircases connect the different levels. There are also brass handrails, timber flooring and other warmer materials that prevent the interior becoming completely overwhelmed by concrete.
This is where I think photographs sometimes fail to explain the Barbican properly.
You need people in some of the spaces simply to understand the scale.
Some of the columns are enormous.
Ceilings seem to stretch away above you, while staircases and balconies overlap each other in almost every direction.
It feels monumental.
Brutalism Without Apology
The word Brutalism is often misunderstood.
It doesn't mean that architects deliberately wanted buildings to appear brutal or unpleasant. The name is associated with the French expression béton brut, meaning raw concrete, famously used by architect Le Corbusier. The architectural philosophy was partly about honesty – allowing materials and construction methods to remain visible rather than covering everything behind decoration.
The Barbican is a wonderful example of that philosophy, although Chamberlin, Powell and Bon apparently never explicitly described themselves as Brutalists.
There are also far more influences here than simply concrete Modernism. The architects looked towards Roman fortifications, European Modernism, Mediterranean architecture and Scandinavian design when developing the estate.
Perhaps that explains why the Barbican feels so different from many other large Brutalist developments.
It is severe, but it isn't completely cold.
Love It or Hate It
Brutalist architecture has always divided opinion.
Some people look at buildings such as the Barbican and see nothing more than enormous expanses of grey concrete.
Others see one of the most exciting periods of British architecture.
I am definitely in the second camp.
There is something about these buildings that modern glass developments simply don't have. They have weight, texture and personality. They aren't trying to disappear quietly into their surroundings.
The Barbican certainly doesn't disappear.
It announces itself.
Its three residential towers rise dramatically above the City of London, while the lower blocks form an almost continuous concrete landscape underneath.
You can photograph one part of the estate and return twenty minutes later to find something completely different.
That is what makes the place so interesting.
A Protected Piece of Modern Britain
Recognition of the Barbican's architectural importance eventually resulted in the complex receiving Grade II listed status in 2001.
That protection is important.
Britain has already lost many significant post-war buildings, particularly those constructed during the 1960s and 1970s. Brutalism went badly out of fashion for a long period and some excellent buildings disappeared before attitudes towards the architecture began changing.
Thankfully, the Barbican survived.
Today it attracts architects, photographers, students and visitors from around the world.
And I can understand why.
Final Thoughts
The Barbican isn't a beautiful building in the traditional sense.
There are no grand Georgian façades or carefully carved Victorian decorations.
Instead there is concrete.
Miles of it.
But that is precisely what makes the Barbican special.
It represents a period when architects and planners were prepared to think on an enormous scale and genuinely believed that architecture could change the way people lived in cities.
Whether every part of that experiment worked is another question.
But walking around the Barbican today, more than half a century after construction of the estate began, the ambition behind it is impossible to ignore.
For me, that is the attraction of the place.
Every staircase seems to lead somewhere unexpected. Every walkway produces another view. Concrete towers suddenly give way to gardens and water, while beneath everything sits one of Europe's great cultural centres.
The Barbican is complicated, occasionally confusing and completely unapologetic.
And that is exactly how Brutalist architecture should be.
By Daren Frankish
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