Roger Scruton and alt-right architecture

In Beauty Matters, Roger Scruton argues modern art is in general inferior, on the basis that art is based, at its deepest roots, in beauty, and that the inclusion of what he considers “ugliness” paints modern art in an inferior light.  In response to the claim that modern art is beautiful because of its meaning and symbolism, rather than its aesthetic beauty, Scruton replies that this claim relies on a utilitarian worldview, that art must have a use in order to be of value. He quotes Oscar Wilde as stating “all art is useless” as a compliment to the art of the times; it did not require a 'use', because it was beautiful enough already. This feeds into Scruton's vision of modern architecture as a blight that too often prioritises function over form.

Scruton believes that modern architecture exemplifies this utilitarian view of art, leading to buildings that are less desirable because they lack form. Scruton is, in part, correct; some buildings are indeed left abandoned and derelict as a result of their appearance. However, his example, the centre of Reading, has undergone major renovation since his visit; he also chooses to cherry-pick the location and camera angle to highlight as many unsightly buildings as possible while avoiding any of the older structures that remain, besides the one café he seeks to emphasise.

Nevertheless, Scruton is not being unreasonable when he asserts that modern architecture, when poorly applied, can lead to city centres and estates that feel lifeless. This is in part due to a particularly oblique aesthetic, but also due to a design that emphasises high rise living which encourages community within the block but ignores it within the block’s surroundings.

Scruton acknowledges, for example, that Rembrandt’s painting, Bearded Old Man, is beautiful despite not being attractive per se. But why does he not concede, despite saying “the most ordinary event can be made into something beautiful … by a painter who can see into the heart of things”, that perhaps, the art he specifically throws off – the urinal, the Young British Artists, and so on and so forth – could serve the same purpose? That something could have a beauty as a result of its significance, what it means to those that look upon it. Even the most regular, most grey car park in Reading can possess a certain beauty as a result of its dystopian value, if not the brutalist charm it may hold for some.

But, to get to the point, I agree with Scruton on modern architecture. I do not believe the change made to the architectural landscapes of cities in developed countries in the past 70 years has been something wholly positive. I too am often inclined to believe that, while it is symptomatic of a wider problem, the choices made in town planning and construction by successive governments and local councils, those that led to the abundance of low-quality prefabs, impending tower blocks, and, more recently, impenetrable glass towers, have tarnished the landscapes of our towns and cities and the communities we find within them.

However, unlike Scruton, I am prepared to acknowledge that when I lay bare my dislike for modern architecture, I am exercising a vast entrenched bias that has been imposed on me since childhood. I firmly believe that if the tables were turned, and it was gothic and neoclassical architecture that had suddenly become cheap and fashionable in the post-war era, a similar stigma would be generated for the same reasons that one exists towards our concrete monstrosities – because the reasons are hardly purely architectural. In fact, they are quite the opposite; we associate the basic, brutal forms of post-war architecture with destitution specifically because such structures often fell prey to it, not because of how they looked, but because of their designated use. Many brutalist structures were designed to be social housing, and when society’s outlook on social housing changed, so too did their outlook on the architecture it represented. Meanwhile, the Barbican stands as a beacon of modernist architecture. Why? Because it is occupied by those who can afford to keep it pristine. Large tower blocks and estates deserve maintenance and care to keep them up to date, just like a period property without double glazing, new locks and insulation might need attention.

The truth of it is that while we can, to a certain degree, judge a building by its looks, it is rarely the building’s defining factor. We might have a different opinion, for example, on our modern day glass towers – if they were used for recreation and community building, rather than as offices and accommodation for our cities’ super-rich. Only valid protections for the buildings that truly matter to our communities can stop our skylines from being littered with vanity projects that come to nothing and tower blocks in which few wish to live. There is a reason why the majority of the UK population want to live in a house instead of a tower block, and we let ourselves down when we claim that reason is only aesthetic.