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The intentions were noble and the plans looked great on paper. But the concrete itself was a problem. Most ordinary people just found it grim. The British climate didn't help – the Mediterranean light that played through buildings such as Le Corbusier's Unité d'habitation was replaced by rain, which streaked the concrete with stains. In many buildings, the rain actually leaked through walls and ceilings – this technology had serious teething problems.
The brutalist dream relied on good facilities, which people would use with pleasure. However, to save money, in many complexes leisure areas stayed undeveloped, and gardens never materialised. Maintenance turned out to be a problem too – high walls and long corridors attracted graffiti and litter. In tall buildings, the lifts had a habit of breaking down.
The architects had assumed businesses would rush to fill their shop and restaurant units, but they were wrong. In many developments, it proved hard to get the right commercial mix. Portsmouth's Tricorn Centre, which was billed as trendy and exciting, attracted some lively small shops, including Richard Branson's first record shop, but the big chains stayed away. That meant the centre never built up the volume of trade needed for the shops to thrive. In some other complexes, the chains did move in, but the rents or location put off small neighbourhood traders. Shopping areas take time to establish themselves, and the new cities-within-a-city rarely reached critical mass.
The architects had counted on one good thing leading to another. But it worked the other way: with residents increasingly avoiding glum common areas and lonely walkways, some buildings became notorious for crime. In the 1980s, Trellick Tower regularly featured in the press as a hell-hole of muggings, burglary and rape.
Not surprisingly, people turned against the whole movement. Developers were accused of ripping the heart out of Britain's towns. Residents angrily challenged architects to try living in their own buildings. In 1984, Prince Charles described the planned National Gallery extension in Trafalgar Square as 'a monstrous carbuncle on the face of a much-loved and elegant friend', and time was officially called on brutalism.
The brutalist dream | The road to hell | Paradise regained? | Find out more
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