By Samuel Gelinas
For the Valley Advocate
Love him or hate him, Donald Trump has a point: brutalism is “unpopular.” Last month the president and former luxury real estate developer issued an executive order calling for future federal buildings to steer clear of concrete in favor of classical designs to “make federal architecture beautiful again.”
The Fine Arts Center at UMass is an example of Brutalist style architecture on the campus. Staff Photo/Carol Lollis
Brutalism gets its name from the French “béton brut,” which translates to “raw concrete.” Its grandeur is not tied to ornamentation, but rather imposing size and the use of geometric shapes, and its monochromatic color palettes has made the style associated with dystopian sci-fi backdrops.
Brutalism was motivated by ideals of affordability, functionality, and pun intended, brutal honesty in regards to its engineering with exposed supports and buttresses. It was intended to be a revolution in overcoming the pompousness and sentimentality of Victorian and classical forms of previous centuries.
The use of poured concrete, a plastic material with infinite possibilities, also made unique designs possible.
It was a widely used style in the second half of the 20th century when there was a need for more housing and public resources. But ever since brutalist buildings started popping up in the 1950s, the artform has been polarizing — maybe even as polarizing as Trump himself.
An example of a federal brutalist building is the J. Edgar Hoover building, the FBI’s headquarters in Washington, D.C.
It was called “truly magnificent” by Gerald Ford when he dedicated the building in September 1975. Today, it holds the distinguished prize of being the ugliest building in the country, according to a 2023 survey by the construction material supplier Buildworld.
While not federal buildings, brutalist architecture is a dominant feature of the UMass Amherst skyline, and dozens interviewed on campus last week couldn’t avoid using the words ugly, gross, boring, or uninspiring about the style.
In short, the raw concrete is in fact not too popular.
Expert opinions
This year the campus’ brutalist-style Fine Art’s Center is celebrating its 50th anniversary, and the facility represents both a beginning and a death — a beginning for UMass Amherst as a research hub, but also the end of brutalist developments at the flagship campus.
Timothy M. Rohan, an architectural historian whose research focuses on modernism, especially of the post-World War II era, said back in 1975 the Fine Arts Center was a symbol of “hopefulness.”
“It (the center) is the bridge between the sciences and humanities,” conceived by architects Kevin Roche and John Dinkeloo.
Rohan noted that the building represented UMass growing out of simply being an agricultural college and entering into an era of being an acclaimed research university.
“It’s majestic. It shows that a public universities can give their students grandeur, and a sense of belonging,” said Rohan. “It has this sort of magnificence and is very beautiful in the sunlight.”
Rohan, who also co-founded UMass Brut to advocate for the style and leads tours on campus, lent his advice to gain appreciation for the building: “Take a second look on a sunny day. Take a walk.”
But it is also functional on a gray day.
The Fine Arts Center at UMass is an example of Brutalist style buildings on the campus. / Staff Photo/Carol Lollis
Rohan said that the building is a preferred path for students walking in the rain who take shelter under the front covered walkway, or arcade.
UMass architecture professor Max Page, who co-authored the book “University of Massachusetts Amherst: An Architectural Tour” said there is also more than meets the eye. For him, the Fine Arts Center is an enduring legacy of investment into education.
When he gives tours of campus, Page always ends at the Fine Arts Center because it is a “heroic” symbol.
“I end there because I remind people what a remarkable investment this was,” he said. “It’s a cluster of buildings held together by a 646-foot, north-facing structure — a metaphor of lifting the arts on a pedestal.”
At the time, he said, the center was the largest arts complex in the state west of Boston.
Page went to college in the 1980s and grew up not liking brutalist or modernist architecture. But now looking back he said, “I’m reflecting on the investment they were willing to make. Now that I’m older I get what they were trying to do.
“You may not like the concrete, you may not like that they haven’t maintained it,” he said, adding that the university had been “strapped” for money and wasn’t able to adequately preserve the facility.
However, he said it’s a symbol of an era that was determined to build public architecture that made bold statements, including buildings like Boston City Hall, which has been on the National Registry of Historic Buildings since 1991. In January 2025 it was designated as a local landmark by Boston Mayor Michelle Wu.
“The main point is look what we as a society invested in. We as a society chose to make a really powerful investment.”
The point not about continuing the brutalist tradition as much as continuing to make these heroic statements, he said.
“Every era develops its own architecture to express its particular moment,” he said, noting that creativity shouldn’t be “squashed” moving forward.
While the Fine Arts Center was a symbol of hope and acts as a bridge and a pedestal, it also marked a dead end for brutalism on campus. It was the last brutalist megastructure to go up in 1975 after a tide of brutalism on campus beginning in the 1960s.
Originally, the brutalist buildings were intended to have a certain public identity, said both Rohan and Page.
As a design and technology major, junior Andrew Hallon said he often tries to contemplate the meaning of architectural designs.
“I think this building is kind of futuristic and kind of human centered,” after taking a moment to look at the Fine Arts Center.
He obviously got the point.
But is there a chance of the style coming back in future projects? Not at all.
“It’s impossible. It ended. It’s over,” said Rohan.
Nonetheless the legacy of brutalism still stands strong on campus.
Enduring legacy in stone
‘These buildings” said Rohan, referring to the more than a dozen brutalist facilities on campus, “have been work horses, really durable and have educated generations of students,” he said.
Driving up to campus one can’t miss the imposing Southwest dormitories — 16 residential halls with five towers and 11 low-rise buildings that houses 5,500 students within a relatively compact area.
Rohan said the dorms once had a reputation for their party culture, but what he hears students talk about today is a “tremendous sense of community.”
Student and Southwest resident Daria Faktorovich said the heavily populated part of campus is a plus, especially for first-year students trying to meet people.
“The comfiness of it all makes it easier to go around, meet people, not being alone — and it’s good to not be alone,” she said. Faktorovich added that she is more prone to being depressed from class work than the buildings.
Even taller than the dorms, at 26 stories and 286 feet, is the DuBois Library in the heart of campus.
Designed by acclaimed architect Edward Durrell Stone, it is the third tallest library in the world, and can even be spotted from the top of mountain ranges around Amherst.
Another world-renowned architect to bring his expertise to campus was Marcel Breuer, who designed the Lincoln Campus Center. Completed in 1970, it features signature Breuer accents, including a waffled facade and different designs for each level to show different uses on the inside.
Lower levels serve students with an immense auditorium, dining facilities and other spaces, while the upper levels are Hotel UMass. He also designed the parking garage across from the center, with small squared concrete lattice to let light in, as part of the same project.
Other brutalist facilities on campus include Whitmore Hall, the Lederle Graduate Research Center, Tobin Hall, and McGuirk Alumni Stadium.
And unlike Trump, Rohan is of the opinion that young people do like brutalism, especially his architecture students.
For him it is not that the buildings are objectively ugly. He believes, “People just repeat what they hear.”
Word on the street
Steven Smith, a facilities worker, was coming onto campus to begin his shift one day last week. As he walked through the airy arcade of the Fine Arts Center, he said he had never thought about the question of the architecture before and never heard of brutalism.
The Fine Arts Center at UMass is an example of Brutalist style buildings on the campus. Staff Photo/Carol Lollis
But looking around him, he said the space feels “not too inviting or welcoming, or needs some liveliness to it.”
He’s far from alone in having that opinion.
“The look depresses you, it always does. And the condition isn’t even that good,” said Jinn Janpathompong, adding he prefers the newer facilities on campus.
For one, he said that the tiling outside the Fine Arts Center is cracked and uneven and called it a tripping hazard. Also from a functional standpoint he said that luggage cannot be rolled on it due to its uneven surface. He also said Herter Hall is always “extremely hot.”
Mia DeMichele, a transfer student, likes the newer buildings on campus, including the Integrative Arts Center and the Student Union.
But, “This hotel is really gross. It’s just ugly,” she said, sunbathing on the expansive patio of the Lincoln Campus Center.
Sophomore Paxton Graham is no stranger to brutalist buildings since her native state of California is filled with examples of the style, especially schools. She was seated at a picnic table beside the Fine Arts Center and said that like DeMichele, she likes the brick on campus — not the stained concrete.
“I really like the brick buildings. The concrete — its kind of whatever to me,” she said. “It’s not the prettiest but I guess it works,” and added the style should just be left in the past.
“I would bring back more brick buildings, I would bring in more modern style buildings. I think architecture, when it is used positively, can improve the space.”
Trees and more color in general would probably help the campus, said student Malahny Wedderburn, sitting at a gravely picnic table outside the Lincoln Campus Center.
Colleen Wetzel, finance and operations manager for the College of Humanities and Fine Arts, has for years worked out of the brutalist buildings on campus, including the Fine Arts Center.
“From the outside I can respect and sort of appreciate the architecture of it,” she said, noting the style was “avant garde” in the 60s.
But the inside is a different story.
“From the inside, working in a space that you cannot open the windows, tends to be dark and cold because of the cement … you have to work hard to be in a positive mood,” said Wetzel.
In her opinion a wrecking ball should take out about half of the stained concrete buildings on campus.
But she also said the buildings do have “some value” but explained they are not buildings you can just walk past in an instant. You need to stop and look.
She took a moment herself to look at Herter Hall and noticed the abundance of squared windows and intricate shapes.
“Like any good work, if you don’t take the time and really look, you don’t get the point.”
Samuel Gelinas can be reached at seglinas@gazettnet.com.
