Viva Space, Hope, and Brutalism

I was very sorry to hear of the passing of Elain Harwood (1958-2023).

Her death prompted me to return to Space, Hope and Brutalism: English Architecture, 1945-1975 (2015), a book that’s been very valuable throughout my research.

I first borrowed the book from the Clifford Whitworth Library during the COVID-19 lockdown. My immediate concern at the time was how I would transport it home in my bike pannier. As Jonathan Meades once remarked, “It’s not a coffee table book, it’s a coffee table.” Despite its size, it quickly became a mainstay and one of several precarious, Jenga-like piles of books that accumulated around the living room. I returned to Harwood’s study repeatedly to explore higher education architecture and to understand the architectural relationships; a period she characterises as one of optimism and endeavour. More often than not, this led me down wider research paths, frequently accompanied by moments of pause prompted by the book’s striking photographic documentation.

Space, Hope and Brutalism represents the culmination of an extensive research project undertaken for Historic England. It offers a detailed account of post-war Britain, documenting architecture associated with housing, work, education and cultural life. The book addresses Functionalism, Brutalism, and the architecture of the Welfare State, while also reflecting Harwood’s broader ambition to secure greater recognition for modernist architecture within public and heritage discourse. The title aptly taken from Sigfried Giedion’s Space, Time and Architecture (1941).

Through her examination of the impact of the Second World War, the Festival of Britain (1951), and subsequent government reconstruction programmes, Harwood draws on archival sources, interviews, and documentary material to reassess architectural production. Higher education features prominently within this narrative, framed as one of the most significant achievements of the post-war settlement. Her research highlights the seeing relationship between policy, institutional ambition, and architectural form, illustrating how new buildings were expected to represent broader social and educational ideals.

In a recent obituary published in The Guardian, Alan Powers observed that Harwood’s work was written with a non-specialist audience in mind. At a time when architectural writing increasingly favoured theoretical complexity, books like this are accessible and grounded. Having spent the past eighteen months working through academic literature, I recognise the value of scholarship that communicates clearly without sacrificing depth. Whether or not such work sits comfortably within more traditional academic frameworks, it continues to play an important role in shaping contemporary understandings of past architecture.

Harwood, E. (2015). Space, Hope and Brutalism: English Architecture, 1945-1975. New Haven & London: Yale University Press.