Marcel the Brutal

Throwback to September 2022…

Hotel Marcel. Photo by Seamus Payne via Dezeen

We are driving down I-95, on our way back from Newport, RI, with LDW (and summer) in the rear view mirror. Listening to the Indie Alternative playlist expertly curated by Spotify, I pensively look out the window. I gasp in disbelief: “Hotel Marcel!” My three fellow car mates tilt their heads to see what the fuss is about. “That’s the new adaptive reuse project that took an abandoned brutalist building and turned into a net zero energy hotel!”  As quickly as they looked at me, they look away, uninterested. Nobody cares. 

I am exaggerating that moment a bit, but there’s some truth to the experience. Most people tend to ignore me. No, just kidding. But actually, most people don’t appreciate brutalism. 

It’s easy to see but tough to explain. Why do people hate raw concrete so much? Maybe it’s seen as monotonous and abrasive. It’s definitely modern. It’s tough to see the human. Which is the point. The modernist movement is founded on the evocation of the machine. Efficiency at its finest. Prefabrication even gets a mention at some point! But, more and more, we see that industrial finesse doesn’t necessarily age well.

Hotel Marcel. Photo by Seamus Payne via Dezeen

Though, brutalism is a different breed. It’s certainly not “classic,” but it’s a vital part of the history of architecture. There’s an honesty of materiality, that I love so much. (I admit that’s an overused phrase, but my romantic self still loves it.) There’s also a beautiful craftsmanship behind brutalism. The details aren’t like find woodworking details, but they nonetheless sing the melody of the project and keep me in awe. There’s no dovetail joint to gawk at, but there’s still the remnants of formwork, the textures, that tells a story of the building process. And, there’s a strong compositional element to it.

For Hotel Marcel, it was completed in 1970 as the headquarters for Armstrong Rubber Company. In 1998, it was turned into the North American headquarters for Pirelli, the tire company. It’s a stunning building - the panels creating a unique textured facade with dynamic depth. The new project has brought the building into the 21st century, aiming to be the first hotel with a Passive House certification as well as LEED platinum status.

It’s exciting to see the building get a makeover and gain a new life. That’s the hope for all buildings. There’s a story in every structure, but it’s up to the architect to shed new light on that legacy. That’s also my hope for brutalism. There’s a beautiful story in every brutalist project, but it’s up to us to take time to understand it.