The Uglification of Europe is Accelerating
The postmodernist cult is desecrating the continent's rich architectural heritage
A few years ago, while touring the US, I could not help but notice that almost every city I passed through had a similar skyline — Charlotte was Austin and Austin was Minneapolis. I initially blamed the sameness of American cities on the country’s relatively “young” architectural tradition. However, after coming back to Europe, I quickly realized that even the Old World’s architectural jewels like Paris and Prague had succumbed to the Modernist cult.
In an article published by the French newspaper Le Figaro, Mary Campbell Gallagher, the president of the International Coalition for the Preservation of Paris, deplored that “the unbridled modernization” of the city had severely undermined its beauty. She feared that the uglification of France’s capital “had reached a point of no return”.
Outside of the historical cores tourists love, European cities have become hopelessly uniforms; Central Business Districts and newly built residential districts remain disturbingly similar from Madrid to Rotterdam. In my hometown Lyon, Modernism is gradually desecrating a city renowned for hosting one of Europe’s most extensive Renaissance neighborhoods and several monuments dating back from the Roman era. The “jewel” of the Modernist crown is the Musée des Confluences, a 300 million Euros twisted monstrosity that looked like a sick alien animal begging to be put down.
A point of clarification — in this article, I am using Modern architecture (MA) with a big “M” as a catch-all term to refer to all the non-historic architectural design movements that emerged during the early mid-twentieth century and gained momentum after the Second World War. I am fully aware of the distinction between the different modern and post-modern architectural styles, but for the sake of the argument, I will just stick to “Modern architecture.” As such, a neoclassical-style building that was completed in 2017 is technically “modern,” but it’s not “Modern.”
Also, we need to differentiate between the architecture of necessity, for people, that works — Victorian terraces, 1930s suburbia, 1960s tower blocks — from the architecture symbolizing money and power — the Medieval castles and cathedrals, the new London skyline from the 1990s onwards, etc. Proponents of Modern architecture will point out that thanks to “Modern” designs, the average person nowadays benefits from better housing conditions than medieval monarchs did. As such, most of the older architecture we admire today was once reserved for the wealthy minority and the poorly constructed housing of common people did not survive to this day. That is simply not true. European cities are full of 19th and early 20th-century working-class neighborhoods with an aesthetic flair that is lacking in modern buildings. Additionally, it is perfectly possible to build affordable modern housing using historic styles.
While early 20th-century “avant-garde” styles such as Art Nouveau developed a new aesthetic but still maintained their visual and natural coherence, Modernism represents a complete departure from history. Modernism is not just an aesthetic revolution but a global ideological movement in art and culture. The forefathers of Modernism, namely Le Corbusier and Walter Gropius, believed that past styles represented imperialism, racism, slavery, and exploitation. As such, tradition was the visual of absolute monarchs and tyrants. However, the argument that in seeking to escape modernity, the temptations of totalitarianism always lie just over the horizon makes no sense. Modernity, in art historical terms, gained momentum during the 1920s up to the post-war period; precisely the era of totalitarianism.
And how can the desire to make things on a human scale, in a traditional way, using local materials have any intrinsic link to the murderous desire of totalitarianism? Unimaginative, postmodernist fanatics have made a habit to trot out lazy references to right-wing, nationalist dictators — especially Hitler — precisely to avoid the fact that it was the concrete brutalist modernism that was most beloved of the murderous totalitarians of the second half of the 20th century.
In many ways, Modern architecture has taken the oppressive mantle left by Nazi and Soviet architecture. It is a different kind of totalitarianism, one that extolls the supremacy of corporate interests over those of citizens. In fascist and communist regimes, public architecture was focused on grandeur and seeming permanence, to remind the public that the regime would reign forever. In the totalitarian mindset, the individual is insignificant: only the collective matters. In our late-stage capitalist system, a fully deconstructed architecture is the physical reflection of the power of our corporate Lords where citizens are gradually transformed into apolitical, acculturated consumers enslaved to the interests of multinational corporations.
It is no surprise that in the arts Modern architecture’s aesthetic is synonymous with government and corporate control and the absence of ethics in general. Movies such as Blade Runner and Welcome to Gattaca use futurist styling as the visual of a dystopian world. On the opposite, traditional architecture often symbolizes innocence and purity; for exemple the English Neo-Regional style of the Shire pictured in The Lord of the Rings.
Having fallen victim to postmodernist relativism, we have become embarrassed to talk in plain language about beauty and ugliness. Across the continent, we are desecrating millennium-old cities in a highly misguided attempt to emulate Dubai, Kuala Lumpur, or Shanghai. Profess your love for traditional architecture and modernist fanatics will bemoan you for being a pastiche lover and working against the relentless march of progress.
Objective beauty does exist
We often hear that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It is true that generations of thinkers have attempted to define beauty and came up with different interpretations. However, as argued by American philosopher Denis Dutton (1944–2010), the notion of beauty evolved deep within our psyches for reasons related to survival. According to Dutton, beauty is instinctive — we recognize it when we see it. The human eye naturally seeks proportion, symmetry, levelness, and consistency. As a matter of fact, there exists such a thing as a popular consensus on the beauty of man-made objects. An overwhelming majority of people see the historical cores of Florence and Paris as beautiful. On the opposite, no one has ever willingly gone on a honeymoon in Frankfurt-on-Main or Birmingham. The proof for the existence of an objective sense of beauty lies in the tourist statistics.
Architects seem to be reluctant to discuss beauty as if it is something too subjective to be considered as serious academic discourse. However, the idea that beauty is purely subjective is being challenged by scientific research. According to recent studies, from a psychological perspective, traditional buildings use aesthetic patterns that are physiologically pleasant to our psyche.
While the different Modernist and Postmodernist styles are revered among architects and the “educated” elite, surveys on preferred architectural styles suggest that a majority of people who are NOT architects themselves favor traditional architecture over Modern designs. When people are asked whether they prefer traditional or contemporary buildings, they lean towards the first. This is especially prevalent for lower-income and middle-income people who favor traditional homes and are least likely to support adventurous designs.
What explains the discrepancy between architects and normal people? Academic studies have shown that architects perceive beauty differently to the public, a phenomenon known as architectural myopia. They will focus on how a building plays with light, on how the spatial composition is “seemingly” integrated with function. On the opposite, architectural philistines like myself will be more concerned about the way the building makes them feel —if they would see themselves living in it. In other words, how they appropriate the place. Here lies one of Modern architecture’s major flaws, despite 70 years of global dominance, most people prefer to spend a night within the walls of old buildings. At night, neighborhoods built based on Modern architecture feel dead and empty.
Architecture should be more democratic
If people are calling for a direct revival of historic styles, real estate promoters and architects should swallow their pride — and take a hard look at the everyday realities of their actual surroundings. So far, the architectural ecosystem has remained locked into its Modernist Ivory Tower. What we need is a populist revolution in architecture.
Simply put, most people prefer historic styles. It is not nostalgia, but the reflection that people love their culture — and consequently, they prefer architectural styles that reflect this idea. Rootless architecture is a major issue because cities need to have strong characters connected to the use of distinctive forms. More than materials, what matters most is the message they convey, the connections they create with our ancestors, and the overall history of the city. As such, the different neo-traditional styles (new classical, revivalism, neo-regional…) use decorative details to add a historical aura to an otherwise modern-day structure. When combined with New Urbanism planning designs that emphasize the importance of community, neo-traditional architecture results in neighborhoods with the kind of human warmth that Modern neighborhoods severely lack.
Architecture should be identifiable. Ornamentation and iconography — elements that Modernists abhor — are not superfluous, they provide context and denote purpose. Even Architectural neophytes can tell apart Old Paris from Old Florence or Old Kyoto. In the same vein, just looking at pictures of Jakriborg featured above, one can guess that we are somewhere in Scandinavia. However, despite the huge success of neo-traditional neighborhoods, our cities continue to be desecrated by rampant ugliness deeply rooted in the fabric of the Modern era.
To be fair, architects are not solely responsible for the uglification of cities across the globe. A lot of contemporary architecture is built this way due to financial imperatives not necessarily under the architects’ control. The corporate climate encourages developers to maximize monetary value per square meter. Practicality, i.e., things that can be easily quantified and measured, such as fitting more bedrooms into the same apartment block, are prioritized over anything qualitative with the result that Modern buildings tend to have a very “factory-like” look.
Unfortunately, architecture and urbanism are all too often regarded as minor issues compared to more “pressing” matters such as unemployment or let’s say healthcare. However good and bad architecture can lift or subdue the human spirit. Places of quality and character inform us about who we are and where we are from. Modern rootless architecture makes it hard for people to make theirs, newly built places. In turn, this lack of appropriation will automatically degrade the quality of civic life. It is no wonder so many urban people are by and large depressed and unhappy. Driving your car two hours a day between a monstrous shape and a fluorescent-lit cubicle is no life, it is just grotesque.
Architecture should be made for humans, for the people, for us. I am by no means saying that Modern architecture should be banned altogether but the fact remains that most people do not feel at ease surrounded by the deconstructed shapes inherent to Modern designs. As we mentioned before, most people are architecturally conservative and there is nothing wrong with that. As such, architecture should listen to the public and return to its historical roots away from overconfident plans denuded of a social dimension or any regard for future inhabitants. Such a move will require overcoming the dominance of technology over beauty that underpins its dystopian turn. It is high time we realize that it is not because something is technologically feasible that it should be done.
The architecture we leave behind represents the legacy of our contribution to human history. Mankind has not produced a single beautiful city since the 19th century. When Venice was built, no one regretted the lagoons that had been swallowed up. In an age of ecological disruption, the goal of architecture should be to put up things that do not leave us regretting the nature that has been lost. To create more beautiful cities, we must confront opportunistic developers and our own intellectual confusions. Public authorities can only create beauty if they have enough public backing. Political will is ultimately about what all of us, the people, are asking for.