How does concrete make you feel? Regardless of your stance, odds are you’ve encountered an academic space flush with hard, gray concrete.
Increased student enrollment and government funding in the 1960s and ‘70s spurred a building boom on college campuses across the U.S. often characterized by the brutalist—or modernist—architectural style: monumental geometric masses of concrete and brick, meant to evoke permanence, stripped-down simplicity and material honesty.
People either love it or hate it. While my design education taught me to appreciate the raw, exposed materials, others expressed disdain for the colorless structures, which left them feeling cold and uninspired. This reaction is perfectly in line with studies of how materials, forms, colors, light and textures influence human psychology.
While brutalist buildings may be emblematic of an architectural movement, are they suited to the needs of 21st century learners? Can we embrace the past while accommodating the future of academia?
In a recent project at the Rochester Institute of Technology, our design team confronted these very questions. Max Lowenthal Hall, home of the Saunders College of Business, was completed in 1977. The original exterior—all-brick and largely windowless—was composed of a rhythm of rectangular blocks and deep recesses, creating contrast with shadow. The central atrium of the building was crowned by a concrete waffle slab skylight, illuminating the board-formed concrete walls and brick floor. In a display of industrial-grade minimalism, the existing classroom walls were unpainted concrete masonry units, or colloquially, cinder block. The sparse classroom windows looked upon an adjacent brick exterior wall, with little light and no views. An elevated platform at the front of each classroom identified the teaching wall.
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While many of these features are classic examples of modernist design, we now know that these academic spaces are not conducive to modern teaching and learning. Our challenge was to honor and enhance the modernist aspects of the building that make its design unique, while updating and creating space for 21st century education. This included a renovation of the existing building and a 38,000 sq. ft. addition that nearly doubled the size of the school.
Throughout the renovation, the character of the existing building was maintained, as the wood ceilings, oversized doors and unique concrete and wood balcony railings remained. To bring warmth and adaptability to the classrooms, the walls were covered with drywall and painted, the carpet and ceilings replaced and the platforms removed to improve flexibility and accessibility. Movable furniture now allows students to sit individually or in groups. Screens and monitors installed on multiple walls enable mobile, adaptable instruction, and student sightlines are unobstructed.
A variety of informal learning and breakout spaces cater to varying student preferences. The transformation of Rochester’s academic spaces was substantial, in look and feel, acoustic performance and functionality.
The addition feels like it was always there. The exterior facades blend through the continuation of brick and an undulating motif. The addition incorporates significantly more glass, delivering natural light and sweeping views. Two inhabitable rooftop patios further enhance the connection with nature. Knowing students face many stressors throughout the day, WELL principles of movement, light, and mental health were fundamentally incorporated.
Circulation and wayfinding were improved by creating physical and visual continuity. The addition connects to every floor of the existing building, a challenging task considering parts of the building have two floors, while others have three. This continuous path creates “racetracks” that circumnavigate each floor, providing clarity in wayfinding and promoting the use of open stairs between floors.
Visually, the boundary between existing and new is blurred through a blend of materiality that speaks to both. Finishes and motifs from the existing building can be seen throughout the addition, but in updated and reimagined ways. Concrete, for instance, is used as an accent, cladding columns and an atrium opening. Two areas of cast-in-place concrete, a railing and a stair, celebrate the board-formed textures and methodologies of the original construction. Extra care was taken to match the oak wood tones of the existing wood ceiling in the linear metal wood-look ceiling of the addition. Similarly, exterior phenolic rainscreen panels were selected to complement the modernist palette. Simple moves like these resulted in big impacts, and a unified feel.
In fact, Jacqueline Mozrall, School of Business Dean, had this to say: “The architects did a wonderful job blending the new expansion with the existing building. The overall building connections, as well as the general themes, architectural features, and classroom and common area furnishings effectively bridge these spaces together and has allowed for a fully integrated, and functional, facility.”
Buildings are ever-evolving, brought to life and continually molded by their occupants. Norman Foster once said, “As an architect, you design for the present, with an awareness of the past, for a future which is essentially unknown.”
At Max Lowenthal Hall, we designed for today’s students, while preserving and referencing a modernist history, and providing flexibility to adapt to future trends. Perhaps, in architecture, nothing is ever truly “concrete.”