Patronage of Modernist Architecture in Norfolk by Stefan Muthesius

UEA was built ostensibly to serve research and teaching. But at the time of its foundation, in the early 1960s, its sponsors and its head, one might say, its rulers, had far more in mind. The New Universities of the 1960s were to be the key monuments of their age. The architects were happy to oblige; exuberantly devising what they saw as the plans and buildings for an academic utopia for all. Denys Lasdun, then at the peak of his career, in fact produced a concept which has recently called by a German critic the 'most romantic' of all the new universities of the 1960s, not only in Britain, but world-wide.

UEA The Pyramid Style Students Residences

But what was the impact of those giant piles of reinforced concrete on those who were neither teachers not students, those who did not, and do not, have a vested interest in academe? Were Lasdun's and Foster's buildings right for Norwich, for Norfolk? This question turned out to be far more complex than expected. One might begin with an Anti-Concrete reaction. There is a violent clash between UEA and the local vernacular, which so many would consider the true style of the region. Thus we may conclude: UEA's architecture was imposed on us by outsiders, the first vice Chancellor, Frank Thistlethwaite, who was a Cambridge don, and the architect, a member of London's avant-garde's. A close examination of the original UEA documents, however, reveals, that the most important members of the local founding elite, such as Lord Mackintosh, were also in favour of strong and advanced modern architecture, while others among the local dignitaries, such as Councillor Sir Arthur South, spoke out against Modernism. When Lasdun had to go, a local firm took over, Sir Bernard Feilden and his team, who toned down Modernism a little. In the case of Sir Robert Sainsbury and Norman Foster, however, both the patron and the designer had nothing whatsoever to do with the region. Nevertheless, Foster, as well before him Lasdun, were entirely convinced that they did their utmost to fit their buildings into the landscape. What makes the whole issue so complex is the fact that there are several concepts of the genius loci of Norfolk: one is the already mentioned vernacular, the other is Modernism itself. A few years back a London critic claimed that large Modernist buildings are particularly suited to the grand Norfolk sky! With the buildings built today, of course, neither patrons nor designers worry much about these issues, as one can conveniently chose any variety of the 'vernacular', resulting for instance, in multi-storey car parks decked out with maltings' towers.

Ref: Peter Dormer and Stefan Muthesius, Concrete and Open Skies. Architecture at the University of East Anglia 1962-2000, Unicorn Press, London 2001.