Denys Lasdun was chosen by a jury, which included actor Sir Lawrence Olivier, to design the building. In spite of Lasdun’s fine modernist credentials he was to many a surprising choice – he had never designed a theatre. Within the National Theatre are three separate and very distinct auditoriums. Symbolically and practically they are loosely modelled on theatre designs from the three greatest periods of western drama: the Olivier on classical Greek theatres, the Lyttelton on the proscenium-arch theatres of the past three centuries, and the Cottesloe on Tudor inn-yards. The building has become a national landmark in Great Britain and has been listed Grade II* since 1994.
I have several Brutalist badges, yet feel disinclined to badge myself a Brutalist, with or without a capital B.
Me, I’m a little more Polyarchitectural by nature.
Less seduced by Edmund Burke’s ideas of the sublime than others.
The passion caused by the great and sublime in nature, when those causes operate most powerfully is Astonishment, and astonishment is that state of the soul in which all its motions are suspended, with some degree of horror … No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear. For fear, being an apprehension of pain or death, operates in a manner that resembles actual pain. Whatever therefore is terrible, with regard to sight, is sublime too … Indeed terror is in all cases whatsoever, either more openly or latently, the ruling principle of the sublime.
Furthermore, whilst the exterior of the National Theatre may well induce fear, and in some loathing, the interior feels both human and secure. When I explored the ins and outs of the public spaces, the monumental seems to be held carefully in check, despite the challenging contrasts in mass and volume. The exposed concrete surfaces and angular forms are softened by sensitive lighting and the presence of people, in motion and at rest.
So at a loose end on a showery day on the Southbank I caught shelter and solace within.
Previously on Modern Mooch – we encounter Mr Lasdun in Leeds and Liverpool
Curiously brick-ish, for work largely concerning concrete.
Did they not know the Madcap Syd wrote See Emily Play down the road at the now demolished Leeds College of Technology?
A fact I discovered whilst researching my Leeds Walk.
Myself I would have gone with – Borrow Somebody’s Dreams ’til Tomorrow.
For here we have an exposition of the architecture of three Universities, exploring the possibilities of a new age.
An age typified by the expansion of minds and opportunities in higher education, rendered corporeal in glass, steel and concrete – with some concession to the use of brick.
I was minded of the political context to these campuses, radicalised by the events of the late Sixties and early Seventies.
Myself a student at Portsmouth Polytechnic during these heady days, where several Maoist, Marxist-Leninist, Stalinist and Trotskyite factions played out ideological debate and display, against these Modernist backdrops.
On the day of my visit to the Leeds campus, I saw three students stood behind a hardboard paste table, selling the Socialist Worker.
Along with staff building support for the following day’s UCU strike.
So to the exhibition – Another Brick In The Wall at the Stan and Audrey Burton Gallery until Saturday 25th March.
Photographer Simon Phipps shines a contemporary light on the innovative designs of this period. He has produced new work of a variety of campuses, including the University of Leeds, exclusively for the exhibition.
Alongside these contemporary photographs, the exhibition displays archival material from the Universities of Leeds, Sussex and East Anglia.
Rarely seen material from the Arup archive is also exhibited.
Let’s take a look at a topic from a bygone age that seems to come of age – there’s never been a better time to be Brutal!
Go and take a look, we really do need education – and exhibitions.
Walking toward Giles Gilbert Scott’s – Anglican Cathedral via the University Campus.
We are greeted by William Mitchell’s sliding door panels.
Let’s take a look inside.
Above is the tower with large areas of stained glass designed by John Piper and Patrick Reyntiens in three colours – yellow, blue and red, representing the Trinity.
On the altar, the candlesticks are by RY Goodden and the bronze crucifix is by Elisabeth Frink. Above the altar is a baldachino designed by Gibberd as a crown-like structure composed of aluminium rods, which incorporates loudspeakers and lights. Around the interior are metal Stations of the Cross, designed by Sean Rice. Rice also designed the lectern, which includes two entwined eagles. In the Chapel of Reconciliation, the stained glass was designed by Margaret Traherne. Stephen Foster designed, carved and painted the panelling in the Chapel of St. Joseph. The Lady Chapel contains a statue of the Virgin and Child by Robert Brumby and stained glass by Margaret Traherne. In the Blessed Sacrament Chapel is a reredos and stained glass by Ceri Richards and a small statue of the Risen Christ by Arthur Dooley. In the Chapel of Unity is a bronze stoup by Virginio Ciminaghi, and a mosaic of the Pentecost by Hungarian artist Georg Mayer-Marton which was moved from the Church of the Holy Ghost, Netherton, when it was demolished in 1989. The gates of the Baptistry were designed by David Atkins.
Designed by NBBJ and HKS – The Royal Hospital is one of the national infrastructure schemes being delivered under a Government PFI contract, with work having started in 2014 led by now-collapsed contractor Carillion.
After Carillion went into administration, further issues were uncovered during a structural review by Arup in 2018, including that the cladding on the building was unsafe and the project had to be reviewed and re-costed as a result. The targeted completion date is now five years later than planned.
Modern Mooch 