Monster Mash

Just as the theory that image-based feeds instigated the brutalism revival never quite checked out, neither does SOS Brutalism’s stated raison d’être.

Paul Rudolph’s Temple Street Parking Garage in New Haven. Courtesy the Yale School of Architecture

Despite its thirty-seven level changes and bizarro telecommunication headquarters vibe, there is nowhere in Paul Rudolph’s Yale Art and Architecture Building to have a private conversation. Assume that all this corduroy concrete is sound-insulated at your peril. When a badminton tournament concludes on the fourth floor of our Brutalist landmark—now named Rudolph Hall, but still home, since 1963, to the Yale School of Architecture—you hear cheering on the seventh; when you gossip on the fifth-floor balcony, gossipers on the balcony above will listen in; call your doctor from the windowless upper tray of the sixth floor, and everyone in the studio thirty feet away will have committed a HIPAA violation. Nowhere is this sonic promiscuity more evident than in the building’s atrium-like second-floor gallery, from the center of which you can count at least five levels. Most prominent is the catwalk encircling the gallery’s uppe…

Clare Fentress is probably gluing dowels together on the fourth floor of Rudolph Hall. Ask her for a tour.

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