I have to say, I approach Brutalism as a bit of a sceptic: those South Bank lumps of raw concrete forming the Queen Elizabeth Hall and the Hayward Gallery don't do very much for me. But then I started exploring the world of Gillespie Kidd & Coia...
GKC were a Glasgow-based practice which developed fairly humdrum buildings in the early part of the twentieth century. Then, in the late 1950s, that all changed, with a takeover by two rather audacious Modernists -- Isi Metzstein and Andy MacMillan. GKC's largest client was, bizarrely, the Roman Catholic church. Scotland was experiencing a massive growth in "new towns" and changing demographics in its traditional city centres: there was thus a surge in demand for new churches, and the Archdiocese was persuaded by GKC to go Modern.
Colin St John Wilson, the architect of the British Library, describes the London establishment's view of GKC's first two churches as being "two ranging shots across our bows from somewhere way over the horizon". These delightful creations -- St Paul's in Glenrothes, and St Bride's in East Kilbride -- were very different and very daring.
The Scottish vernacular was stone and render, and St Paul's respected that with its white painted finish looking rather like traditional render; it was an almost delicate wee church.
Like much of GKC's work it was built around the light, inspired by Le Corbusier's approach, and with a rather deft touch.
Much of the exterior form of the building was dictated by a desire to flood the altar in natural light:
The second of these churches, St Bride's, did nothing to hide itself away.
It was in brick; raw, flame-red brick, and it formed a rather extraordinary composition with its huge campanile towering over a vast, keep-like, top-lit volume (locals nicknamed it Fort Apache, so formidable was its bulk, notwithstanding the beauty of its detailing).
But the Devil is in the detail, and the detail here is truly awesome -- look at the plasticity of the brickwork, curving politely back to encourage you to the door:
And the starburst paving is none too shoddy, either:
Inside is an audacious cliff of soft, warm brick, floods of light cascading down it from above.
The shocking thing about St Bride's is that the campanile tower was demolished in 1980, after they'd worked out the cost of destroying it was £400 less than the cost of having the brickwork re-pointed.
The even more shocking thing is discovering just what a high proportion of GKC's other works have either been altered or completely demolished. This was a firm that produced high quality work (Robinson College Cambridge? The BOAC offices in Glasgow's Buchanan Street?), but it was uncompromisingly Modern and very, very sophisticated.
The most shocking fate of all has befallen their masterwork, St Peter's Seminary, Cardross.
Let's leave the description of this to the usually stone-cold sober Pevsner:
"Be sure of a big surprise in these woods, because this is a building of national significance, astonishing in its design and in its degradation.
"Nothing prepares one for the shock of the new grown prematurely old.
"In little more than a generation, God, Le Corbusier and Scottish architecture have all been mocked.
"Here, certainly, the Philistines have triumphed.
"One of the most valuable examples of C20th architecture in Scotland.
"St Peter's is one of the great buildings of C20th Scotland.
"In its international awareness it succeeded, not at all paradoxically, in recapturing something of the fortress-like severity and direct visual vigour of the national tradition."
Today, St Peter's is an extraordinary ruin. It had a working life of little more than a decade, from the late 1960s until 1980.
The site has just been bought by a Scottish arts charity, who intend to turn it into a Modernist architecture sculpture park.
As a memorial to a brief but fertile flowering of Brutalist Scottish Modernism, St Peter's may at last have a secure future.
It is an extraordinary testament to the vision of Metzstein and MacMillan and of Gillespie Kidd & Coia.
4 comments:
Doesn't the fate of St Peter's tell you all you need to know about brutalist architecture in a climate like Britain's?
The condition of St Peter's has nothing to do with the climate. The two early churches seem to have suffered no climate-related problems either -- unless you believe the natural weathering of brick makes it an inappropriate building material for British weather?
Brutalism is about honesty of materials and structures. And, aesthetically, I think there is Good Brutalism and Bad Brutalism. St Peter's is unquestionably Good Brutalism.
Indeed, as even Pevsner's praise confirms, Good Architecture full stop.
Wow, that was quite something!
In the first picture of St Bride's, I though, "wow that looks more like a fortress or even a power station type building than a church".
The Fort Apache nickname made me smile.
I like to see what the plan to do with the decaying skeleton of St Peter's.
I like to see what time and nature does to buildings when left to its own devices.
It's really haunting and ghostly.
Interesting post.
Wonderful thought-provoking images.
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