Walking through D.C., you’re likely familiar with the Neoclassical style so emblematic of the city’s architecture.  The origins of this style in D.C. go all the way back to the city’s founding in the 1790s, when William Thorton won a competition to design the Capitol.1   Washington’s Neoclassical buildings, monuments and memorials weren’t just built for beauty, they were meant to evoke powerful feelings of strength, grandeur and faith in our government as well.  But in the 1960s, another architectural style emerged that came to dominate D.C.’s federal buildings.  Glancing at the Metro, the Hirshhorn Museum or the FBI Headquarters2  might not evoke the same sense of civic pride as viewing the White House, Capitol or Jefferson Memorial.  You might call this style ugly, bleak, or downright brutal. 

In 1945, the federal government was seeking to revitalize Southwest Washington.  Congress approved the Southwest Urban Renewal Plan, which sought to attract wealthy white residents by building a new business district.  D.C. experienced growing numbers of federal employees in the 1950s, who required new federal buildings to accommodate them.3   In 1961, President John F. Kennedy convened the Ad Hoc Committee of Federal Office Space,4  which decided that D.C. needed new federal buildings that would “reflect the dignity, enterprise, vigor and stability of the American National Government,” and “embody the finest contemporary American Architectural thought.”5   The Southwest Urban Renewal Plan, along with the need for new federal buildings, gave the government an opportunity to decide how it wanted to redefine federal architecture.  The commission wanted the buildings to reflect a new style, a rebranding of sorts for federal architecture, to distinguish them from the older federal buildings of the early 20th-century.6   The government wanted to achieve uniformity in its design, but what architectural style should these new buildings reflect?

At the same time, a new style was making waves in Europe.  In 1949, the term nybrutalism (new brutalism) was coined by a Swedish architect to describe a villa he built in Sweden.  The term derives from the French béton brut, meaning “raw concrete”.  Villa Göth was notable for its open display of construction materials and flat geometric shapes.  Visiting architects from Britain adopted the term “brutalism” to describe the style, which ever since has connotated harshness.7   The best known work of proto-Brutalism is the modular apartment complex Unité d'Habitation in Marseilles, France, completed in 1952 by the Swiss-French architect Le Corbusier.  This project laid the foundation for future Brutalist endeavors, with its lack of decoration and an emphasis on exposing the materials of its construction, primarily concrete.8

The British architects brought the design’s stripped-down philosophy back to their home country in 1950.  The first building described as “new brutalist” was an English school completed in 1954.  Brutalism was popularized in a 1955 essay by British architectural historian Reyner Banham.  What exactly constitutes Brutalism is hard to define, but the style is generally recognizable for exposed concrete, monochrome colors, geometric designs, recessed symmetrical windows, and a top-heavy bulkiness to the design.  Minimalist designs and exposed construction elements take precedence over decoration.  In Banham’s words, Brutalist architecture emphasizes “ethic over aesthetic”.9

But let’s be honest.  You’re probably a member of the majority who doesn’t find Brutalism particularly inspiring.  In a 2020 poll conducted by the National Civic Art Society, 72% of Americans prefer traditional architecture for federal buildings over modern architecture (the umbrella under which Brutalism falls).10   If opinions today are so negative, what made Brutalism popular in the 1950s?  One reason is that there was an urgent demand for large-scale public housing in the bomb-ravaged cities of post-World War II Europe.  The second reason is that Brutalism’s utilitarian style appealed to socialist ideals of community in the communist European nations where it took the greatest hold.  The third reason is much simpler.11   Concrete is cheap and durable.  “One of the reasons architects liked concrete is you can make many forms out of it,” said Matthew J. Bell, professor of architecture and urban design at the University of Maryland, in an interview with NBC4 Washington.  “If you can build the framework and bend the steel, you can make just about any shape that you want.”12   Despite concrete becoming the primary material of choice, brick, glass and steel could still be woven into Brutalist designs, like at the INTELSAT Headquarters by the Van Ness metro station.13   Another reason is that the government wanted to distinguish their new buildings from buildings earlier in the century. 

Just like in other countries, Brutalism was never going to be confined to D.C.’s federal buildings, however.  The movement arrived in the United States in the early 60s, with architect Paul Rudolph’s Yale Art and Architecture building on the Yale University campus becoming one of America’s best-known early Brutalist buildings when it was completed in 1963 (now renamed the Rudolph Hall).14   Among the first Brutalist buildings in D.C. was the Longfellow Building, a commercial office building near Dupont Circle.  Surprisingly, it was actually built in 1940, when the style was called modernist.  The Brutalist label only applied later.  The light beige concrete facade has since been retrofitted with marble, diminishing the Brutalist style.15  

In 1962, D.C. needed a new FBI Headquarters.  The General Services Administration (GSA), which handles public construction projects, selected architect Charles F. Murphy from Chicago, and Beiswenger, Hoch, Arnold and Associates from Ohio as the principal designers for the new headquarters.  A location at Pennsylvania Avenue and E Street between Ninth and Tenth Streets, NW was approved on January 2, 1963.  After struggling through many competing views, the architects and the GSA eventually settled on a highly secure, box-like design with a monumental feel to the structure.  Instead of the traditional marble, granite, and limestone government buildings, the new HQ was primarily built with poured concrete, keeping in line with the cost-saving measures that made Brutalism appealing to the approving agencies.  FBI employees moved into the new building from 1974 to 77.  The new HQ was officially named the J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building in May 1972 after the former FBI director, and the building was dedicated in September 1975.16   Although it was widely praised before completion, public reception in the following decades hasn’t exactly been positive.  “This building reflects the tendency within Brutalism to completely ignore the building’s surroundings, and it’s just plopped down as if it dropped in from outer space,” said architecture critic Catesby Leigh in 2013.  “There’s a very large consensus that the sooner it’s put out of its misery, the better.”  Even the FBI voiced similar sentiments, calling the building “obsolete, inefficient and expensive.”17   You might even call the J. Edgar Hoover Building the most infamous example of D.C. Brutalism.

Any ride on the D.C. Metro will take you on a tour of Brutalist architecture.  The stations are instantly recognizable for their vaulted concrete-paneled ceilings.  They were designed in the mid-60s by Harry Weese and opened in 1976.  The concrete ceilings might make you feel like you’re in a tomb, but Weese’s choice of concrete wasn’t just a cost-saving measure, nor an adherence to the “raw state of materials” philosophy of Brutalism.18   “Weese’s coffers were a direct reference to the great concrete vaulted and domed spaces of ancient Rome,” according to author Robert Bruegmann in his book The Architecture of Harry Weese (2010).19   You may or may not be reminded of Rome’s architectural wonders when waiting for your train, but we all might agree that Weese’s stations are at least memorable in their own right.  Surprisingly, not all architects of Brutalist buildings considered themselves to be Brutalists.  Araldo Cossutta, architect of the Third Church of Christ, Scientist (demolished in 2014) and L’Enfant Plaza North and South, said, “I resent the word Brutalism being attached to my work in any way.”20

Brutalism took many forms.  Possibly its most idealistic example in the D.C. area is Lake Anne Village in Reston, Fairfax County.  The heart of Reston was founded in 1963 as the first village center in America’s first planned community.  Designer Robert E. Simon (the RES of Reston) had a utopian vision for “New Town” Reston to bring together different socioeconomic groups into an enclave where local living is prioritized over the hustle of city life.  You won’t find many cars here, since the parking lots and back roads are mostly hidden.  Independent businesses are more common than franchises.  Concrete and brick adorn everything from apartment buildings, to a Baptist church, to public artworks that double as playground equipment.  Like every planned utopia however, Lake Anne Village’s ideals haven't exactly lived up to reality.  Instead of accommodating socioeconomic diversity, Fairfax County has become the third wealthiest county in America.21, 22 

But no fashion can last forever.  Through the 1970s and 80s, Brutalist architecture fell out of favor with the public.  Brutalism emerged partly out of the need to cheaply construct massive new public housing developments, and now a public housing crisis raised tensions over long-standing issues like crime, poverty and maintenance.  Therefore, Brutalism came to symbolize economic hardship and urban decay.  It didn’t help that raw concrete doesn’t age very well, and many Brutalist buildings fell into disrepair around this time thanks to decay and water damage.  Graffiti artists didn’t help either, by preferring raw concrete as their vandalism canvas of choice.  Countless Brutalist buildings have been demolished around the world in the decades since,23  but as you are well aware, many remain.

Many of D.C.’s iconic Brutalist structures have survived condemnation and calls for demolition.  The J. Edgar Hoover Building might be the most notorious example.  Discussions about moving the FBI Headquarters to Maryland or Virginia circulated for ten years before the government scrapped the plan in 2017, due to a lack of funding for a new building.24   Brutalism might even be making something of a comeback.  Some architects and local communities have defended the style for its lofty ideals of restraint over excess and symbolizing “the essence of things”.  Defenders might nostalgically admire Brutalist structures for their sense of permanence.25   The United Kingdom has seen calls for saving Brutalist structures from demolition on the basis of historical preservation.26   For now, Washingtonians still revile Brutalism, but as the saying goes, everything old is new again.