This article first appeared in Mazda’s customer magazine.

Words and Art Direction by Matthew Reynolds. Photography by Joseph Ford

*Shakespeare Tower, Barbican Estate, London.*

Concrete is cool again. We drive the new Mazda6 to some of the UK’s most iconic brutalist structures to find out why

Standing in the shadow of Shakespeare Tower, it’s hard to deny the majesty of this sky-scraping concrete giant. Soaring more than 400 feet into the London skyline, the 42-storey centrepiece of the Barbican Estate has become a magnet for lovers of all things brutalist.

The controversial architectural style which flourished in post-war Britain is currently experiencing something of a comeback. Instagram accounts dedicated to its stark geometric forms have hundreds of thousands of followers, fashion campaigns are shot against high-rise backdrops and new magazines and books dedicated to the subject appear regularly.

There’s no doubt about it: enthusiasm for brutalism is thriving. The bold lines of modern architecture combined with the textures of concrete clearly have a breathtaking visual impact. But is there more to it than that?

“I’d say the excitement today’s brutalism fans are getting from the buildings is an echo of the excitement their creators felt when producing them,” says Dr Barnabas Calder, a senior lecturer in architecture at the University of Liverpool and author of Raw Concrete: The Beauty of Brutalism.

“The spectacular energy and vigour of brutalism manifested itself in magnificent engineering, heroically overconfident architectural expression and beautifully worked-out detailing.” Looking up at the tower in front of us, it’s hard to disagree. But what does the man who once called brutalism “the high point of architecture in the entire history of humanity” have to say about the problems often associated with the concrete jungle?

“The link between architectural style and social problems is zero,” he claims. “People with little money and few opportunities, whose social status is perceived by many of the better-off as inferior, tend to suffer a higher level of crime than other groups, and to become hysterically feared and stigmatised by the media.

“That was certainly true of the Victorian residents of surviving Georgian slums, the twentieth century residents of the poorer Victorian inner suburbs and more recently of the residents of many twentieth century social housing projects. It’s an ugly pattern, but not an architectural one.”

A short drive away is the National Theatre. Completed in 1976 by Denys Lasdun, it is a cultural hub that attracts vast numbers of visitors — including a steady stream of architecture fans who are keen to admire the building itself.

“Of all the buildings built during this era, the National Theatre probably received most criticism from the public, but if you look, really look, you can see the sheer passion and understanding Lasdun had for concrete as a building material,” says Joanne Underhill, an architectural photographer.

“It took him 13 years to build; it wasn’t just thrown up in a couple of months. Throughout the building you can see that attention to detail and an incredibly high level of craftsmanship.

“Just look at the shuttered concrete walls. Carpenters made wooden moulds — or ‘shutters’ — in which the concrete was poured and left to set. Once removed, the concrete was imprinted with the reverse texture of those boards. Lasdun tried many woods before being happy that Douglas fir imprinted the most pleasing texture. It’s little details like this that I love.”

But brutalism wasn’t just for London culture vultures. Often described as the architectural style of the welfare state, it expanded the reach of hospitals, schools and universities massively. Ambitious social housing projects were created along with civic — and, in the case of our next stops, religious — buildings.

The exterior of Christ Church in Lambeth is unmistakable, with the Gaudi-esque curves of its facade looking almost organic. And at the Church of Saint Thomas More in Birmingham the organ player explains to us: “I love this space. The simplicity of it just feels so honest.”

*Interior of the Church of St Thomas More, Birmingham.*

But it’s not all good news for brutalism fans. One of the UK’s most iconic brutalist structures, Welbeck Street car park in Marylebone, is listed for imminent demolition. Despite a sustained campaign to preserve this landmark building, the site is to be redeveloped as a luxury hotel.

*Welbeck Street car park, Marylebone, London.*

“Many of these buildings have a lifespan of 60 or 70 years so now, at the end of their ‘lives’, they are coming under scrutiny and people start to notice them,” says Steve Hodgson, the man behind the popular @brutal_architecture Instagram account and a passionate advocate for brutalist architectural style.

“High rises come in for a lot of criticism, but it’s important to remember that these blocks were built quickly to house people at the end of World War II and were a huge improvement on the Victorian slums they were living in at the time,” he says.

Hodgson is concerned that some of the most historically significant brutalist structures are being destroyed to make way for the glittering, glass towers favoured by today’s architects.

“Architectural fashions come and go: St Pancras station, which is now a much-loved Neo Gothic masterpiece, was listed for demolition several times. In the 1960s a lot of beautiful Victorian architecture was demolished and we’re in danger of making a similar mistake.”

He continues: “Regeneration should always come before demolition and it seems that despite the new-found interest in brutalism, some of these buildings are in danger of being lost forever. That would be a terrible shame when there are so many worthwhile reasons for them to be retained and enjoyed by future generations.”

Brutalism 101

The term brutalist refers to a distinctive style of architecture characterised by the use of concrete and steel in bold, ingenious forms. Contrary to popular belief the word isn’t derived from the ‘brutal’ look of these structures, but from the French béton brut, meaning, literally, raw concrete. Although concrete as a building material has been around since the time of the ancient Romans (the domed roof of the Pantheon is made with it), its popularity peaked in the 1950s and 1960s. It was a difficult and expensive material to produce, and it’s telling that the energy crisis of the 1970s coincided with the end of brutalism’s initial flourish of creativity.

Pictures © Mazda. With thanks to Dr Barnabas Calder, a trustee of the 20th Century Society c20society.org.uk Joanne Underhill, architectural photographer structuraleye.co.uk and Steve Hodgson @brutal_architecture