I think each building or structure should be taken on its own merits. I kind of like the Boston City Hall and I love the Radisson Metro station in Montreal. Others that have been mentioned in this thread I am with the majority in disliking.
I didn’t know this style had a name, but as soon as I started clicking the links I knew of my favorite example: the architecture (ironically) buildingat UC Berkeley, widely acknowledged as the ugliest building on campus.
I play the game Red Orchestra 2. In it, there’s a map of a WWII Russian grain elevator. That map building looks less depressing than that building.
http://www.gamersdailynews.com/userfiles/image/2011/September/RO2-elevator-02.jpg
http://media.pcgamer.com/files/2011/01/GrainElevator.jpg
It’s based on a real building:
http://media.pcgamer.com/files/2011/01/GrainElevator_sidebyside-jpeg.jpg
Interesting take on it. 
Thing is, that’s a denial of human nature. Humans like natural shapes and objects; a forest is more attractive than a blank slab of concrete to humans. And yes, a denial of human nature is a factor I believe; the denial that there is such a thing as human nature has been prominent in artistic circles for decades, including admitting that people really do have a natural liking for things like nature scenes. If more people buy picture-calenders with nature scenes than they do of calenders with pics of something like brutalist architecture, that’s not because humans like nature; it’s because of Western Imperialism* or some such excuse.
*A common way to handwave away people all over the world having similarities such as liking nature scenes, rather than admitting there’s such a thing as human nature.
Oh, those are awesome too! Montreal has an excellent mix of modernist architectural idioms, in a clearly visible progression by era: International Style, Brutalism, and postmodernism.
How so? This building is so ugly I need a hug?
Well, the rundown, post-apocalyptic, dystopian feel is conducive to gangs and crime. The former being a kind of community and the latter a kind of human interaction.
Hah!
Early Brutalists, along with Corbusier, created “streets in the sky” – interior or exterior corridors for housing that would mimic a street condition, complete with all of its hustle and bustle, sometimes with shops, but all within the context of mass housing. Good intentions – obviously not successful though.
And yet, somehow, a bunch of humans chose to make buildings out of blank slabs of concrete and call it a style. The De Stijl movement created a bunch of work with straight edges and bright, unnatural colours and people enjoyed it as art.
I don’t think anyone of significance has ever denied that people enjoy natural scenes and environments, but I think it is wrong to call that the be all and end all of human nature. In addition to sitting back and enjoying their natural surroundings, people also conceive of straight lines and sharp edges and unadorned slabs. In fact, when humans reason about space, their thoughts are naturally drawn to these simple shapes, instead of shapes that naturally occur, just because they are so well suited to human reasoning.
I find in funny that when people talk about “losing their humanity”, it is always in comparison to some hyper-rational Spock-type creature who abandons art and bucolic appreciation and has never actually existed, and to avoid that strawman they eschew the abstraction and ordering that is the unique thing that humans do.
Leahcim,
Indeed, I can think of some clean, geometry-related designs which are rather well appreciated ( https://www.google.ca/search?um=1&hl=en&safe=off&biw=1132&bih=965&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=2001+space+odyssey+architecture&oq=2001+space+odyssey+architecture&gs_l=img.3...44984.46870.0.46949.13.13.0.0.0.0.198.985.10j2.12.0...0.0...1c.1.xNBc52JBItk )
Compared to other animals, we are Spock. Abstraction and seizing the essential among naturally occurring messes of sensory data is one of traits which most differentiate us from other animals. The ones which can do it to some extent (e.g.: bononos) are also the ones we recognize as closest to humans.
Due to politics & status games IMHO as much as anything else.
Nor did I. And I didn’t say that people were claiming that other people don’t enjoy nature scenes, only that they were claiming that it’s wrong to do so.
Because human visual imagination is fairly limited in its capabilities, so it tends to use simplified images when designing something.
Not “hyper-rational”; irrational. Thinking that ugliness is good because most people dislike ugliness isn’t very rational.
I checked and the Orlando Public Library was actually built before the National Theatre. It turns outs that the Library was actually designed by John M. Johansen, who is well known, so it isn’t that unlikely that the Theatre would copy it. I think architects have an euphemism for copy.
http://www.aiaflatop100.org/building.cfm?idsBuilding=82
The Library still reminds me of a barn, even if it was designed by a famous architect.
It’s not like this, this, or this look like a bunch of trees or something. There are plenty of geometric shapes in all of those buildings, including both straight lines and graceful curves.
Somepony should do a Brutalist version of the Taj Mahal. It would be hilarious.
Ah yes, Wean Hall. I felt sorry for the computer science people because they had to actually be in there.
I always loved my hometown library. It was lovely, airy, and welcoming. Here’s a picture: http://cdn.newsday.com/polopoly_fs/1.3229912.1351110223!/httpImage/image.JPG_gen/derivatives/feature_416/image.JPG
When I got to Carnegie Mellon, I was utterly flummoxed by Wean Hall. It was obviously the same style and the materials were exactly the same, right down to the wide wooden railings and things. But it was miserable, dark, drab, dreary, awful, and miserable. How could this be?
The question nagged at me for a decade and a half until I finally did some research a few years ago to find out what on earth that architectural style even was called and how it could have produced two buildings that were so alike and yet so different. What I discovered is pretty much what people are saying in this thread: It’s called brutalism. Sometimes it’s done really well. But usually it sucks.
We have some here in Canberra. They were so awful that they were often empty, and subsequently two of the four were demolished even though they were only built in the '70s. I had some clients who worked in them, and the buildings were as ugly on the inside as they were on the outside.
Meh. It’s not a great work of beauty, but most apartment buildings aren’t. I wouldn’t step back and go “whoa, that’s ugly” when I saw it, I’d just think “building” and move on. It’s not actively ugly like some of the ones that seem to treat parking garages as the artistic ideal.
Looking at a lot if the buildings on this thread (and this page of examples in London: London's Top Brutalist Buildings | Londonist ) it strikes me that the problem isn’t with the shapes, it’s the material. Some of the forms are really quite attractive, it’s just that they are made of concrete which is inescapably ugly, especially once it has aged. The same forms made of metal, or glass, or even wood, would IMHO look rather lovely.
But then if it’s not béton brut, it wouldn’t be brutalist, would it? Plus, of course, many of those forms can only easily be built from concrete.
Thing is, concrete doesn’t have to be ugly. I’ve seen polished concrete floors that are things of beauty, and poured concrete kitchen worktops also appeal to me. But exterior concrete, at least in a damp climate, just doesn’t work.
Colophon,
You’re right that the material has a lot to do with it, especially when combined with the shapes. I think the form, material and color compound each other. Would it be feasible/not ridiculously expensive to have a building with a colored polished concrete exterior?
You make a good point that concrete allows for some shapes which other materials would struggle to maintain. Reinforce concrete could be thought of as bones in the body then; great at supporting the structure because of its strength/weight ratio but covered with more sightly wrapping.
Brutalism might have been to architecture what banging bits of woods and metal are to music: an experiment that teaches us valuable lessons about basic principles. Alas, it seems to have come in just around the time gov’t and business were building a lot of big buildings and people had rather, say, optimistic ideas about organization and the future (the UK had MinTech; the Ministry of Technology and Australia had the Prices Justification Tribunal).