A groundbreaking new book of photography and essays is challenging perceptions of brutalist architecture by showcasing the surprising warmth and humanity found within these concrete giants. 'Brutalist Interiors,' edited by journalist Derek Lamberton and published by Blue Crow Media, offers an intimate look at the inner spaces of buildings that are often dismissed as cold and inhuman from the outside.

While brutalist buildings may appear imposing as they carve up urban skylines and cast rhythmic shadows on city streets, their interiors tell a completely different story. The book reveals how concrete, when viewed up close, transforms into something softer, warmer, and even delicate through its sculptural qualities. This material has been tactically used as a tool for artistic expression since the mid-20th century, demonstrating a unique power to influence and inspire those who experience it.

Art critic Blake Gopnik contributes a particularly compelling essay about his childhood experience living in Montreal's Habitat 67, a revolutionary housing complex constructed from 354 prefabricated concrete blocks that resembled giant toy blocks. Gopnik describes how the interior wasn't traditionally homely but rather functioned like "a jungle gym of cognitive jolts," featuring a dangerous staircase, a narrow mezzanine, and floor-to-ceiling window frames that sparked both fears and fantasies of tumbling through the glass. Despite its unconventional nature, the experience left a lasting impact: "It established an aesthetic standard that all other art has had to live up to in my life ever since," he writes.

The book's photography takes readers on a visual journey through various brutalist interiors, from dining spaces featuring exposed concrete, glass blocks, and blue tiles at Housden House, to the board-marked concrete shower cells at Paulo Mendes da Rocha's Butantã House. These images challenge the style's oppressive reputation, instead presenting these spaces as human, inviting, and magnanimous rather than megalomaniacal.

Many of the featured buildings from the 1960s and 70s were urban transit projects that made brutalist design accessible to the general public. Concrete was chosen not only for its durability and malleability but also because, when designed with artistic vision, it captured the revolutionary spirit of infrastructure that was meant to liberate society. Writer and photographer Deane Madsen revisits architect Harry Weese's precise and colossal design for the Washington DC Metro, which began opening in the 1970s. The Metro's distinctive vaulted concrete and hexagonal quarry tiles also influenced editor Lamberton, a fellow Washingtonian who describes childhood memories of somber platforms and endless escalators in his introduction.

Lamberton's careful curation creates a real rhythm throughout the book, with geometric patterns that conjure exciting machine-like movement amplified by dramatic plays of light and shadow. The rise of brutalism coincided with the Space Race and the advent of revolutionary technologies like lasers, satellites, and video games. Science and technology were exploding during this era, and brutalism successfully captured that moment of innovation and possibility. This spirit is best exemplified in buildings like Toronto's imposing Ontario Science Centre, the shifting perspectives of Paul Rudolph's Elion-Hitchings Building, and the layered dimensionality of the Faculty of Philosophy in Novi Sad.

The political dimensions of brutalist architecture are explored through architect Ljubica Slavković's essay on Belgrade's imposing Sava Centre. Originally built as a venue for film festivals and television broadcasts, the building became a political rebranding project for Socialist Yugoslavia, representing "an act of power appearing to be shaped by grand tectonic shifts." However, the interiors expressed genuine soul through deep rubber floors and leather sofas, comfort through wood and textiles, and atmosphere through rich blues, oranges, and greens—creating a unique hybrid of living room and city plaza. As Slavković notes, the interior was crafted with one primary goal: "to create a sense of belonging."

The book also examines contemporary examples of 21st-century neobrutalism. Architectural historian Felix Torkar explains how the term relates not only to material choices but also to process-led construction methods, particularly in renovation projects that strip existing structures down to their essential bones. He cites the refurbishment of Paris's Palais de Tokyo as an example, where exposing the building's core created an appealing shell better suited for contemporary exhibitions and more relevant to today's curators.

Torkar argues that neobrutalism, as "an architecture of raw exposed materials, highlighting structure, tectonics and low-tech solutions, reducing carbon footprints and invoking a spirit of honesty in construction," represents an approach that "will be topical for a long time to come." This contemporary relevance suggests that brutalist principles may continue to influence architectural design well into the future.

'Brutalist Interiors,' published by Blue Crow Media, is scheduled for release on September 4, 2025. The book promises to reshape how readers understand and appreciate one of architecture's most controversial and misunderstood movements, revealing the hidden humanity within these concrete monuments to modernist ambition.