Brutalism on the beach
Coastal brutalism has been a thing for several years now. There are two types of structure, both used for defence purposes – one to defend against the sea, in terms of coastal erosion and flooding, and the other to defend against enemy invasion. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which is which – Tetrapods (pictured below) would also make good anti-tank structures, for example. Their shapes always remind me of the ancient children’s game Jacks, also known as Knucklesbones.
Seawalls, groynes. revetments, gabions, breakwaters and Tetrapods are just a few examples of attempts to manage some of the effects of climate change, like rising sea levels. They are mostly ugly, utilitarian and make little attempt to blend in with natural coastal beauty like sand and sea.
The original Tetrapod was invented in France in 1950. Since then, various countries have adapted their own versions: the Stabit in the UK, the Modified Cube and the A-jack (United States), the Dolos in South Africa and the Xbloc in the Netherlands are just a few examples. Japan seems to be the biggest fan: amazingly, half of its 22,000 mile coastline contains Tetrapods.
Dare I say the shape has become almost iconic, so much so that, as reported in Dezeen in 2018, the distinctive tetrahedral shape is now a soap.
Also in 2018, photographer Jethro Marshall produced Coastal Brutalism (unfortunately now sold out), which “celebrates concrete interventions on the South West coast”. The book is part of West Country Modern which has published a series of books described as “Anti bucolic, pro rural - modern studies on English landscape”.
Martello towers, forts, pillboxes (Wikipedia has a fascinating page of different types, from Dover Quad to Essex Lozenge), sound mirrors (pictured, top), anti-tank cubes, gun and searchlight emplacements are some examples of anti-invasion architecture, much of it now of course abandoned.
Martello towers, coastal forts built of brick, were made in the 19th century as a defence against the French and were built all over the British Empire, from India to Australia. Many have withstood the test of time better than more recent coastal structures and are now preserved as historical monuments. They are small and circular in shape, with a flat roof for mounting a gun.
Sound mirrors became obsolete almost as soon as they were invented; the huge concrete structures were superseded by radar. The Quietus has an interesting article about them here.
Not exactly on the beach, in fact six miles out to sea, the rusting Maunsell Sea Forts (above), specifically known as the Red Sands forts, are extraordinary structures reminiscent of the tripods from HG Wells’ War of the Worlds. Built in 1942 on the Thames Estuary as anti-aircraft forts to fight the Germans by British engineer Nigel Maunsell, they have been abandoned since the 1950s.
Even more than urban brutalism, perhaps, coastal brutalism, because of its incongruity with the ideal of a beautiful beach or even of grand Victorian or Edwardian architecture, stands out like a sore thumb in the supposed-holiday atmosphere. There’s also a sadness there, certainly with the anti-invasion structures, where most of them are left alone to rust or erode and eventually be claimed by the sea.
Concrete Shepherd Hill Energy Dissipation (SHED) units on the causeway at Mutton island, Galway.