When J. Hogue walks around downtown Providence, he sees the same landscape of buildings as everyone else. But Hogue also sees its history, having documented it over the last 24 years through his website Art in Ruins.
“The point for me has been really to document the architectural change and the landscape around Providence,” Hogue tells us on a walk through Providence. We round the corner onto Chestnut Street, across from the Beneficent Church in the Jewelry District. “I think part of it is nostalgia. I find a lot of people who are leaving comments used to work there or knew someone who worked there or grew up near it. These places mean things to people and they mean all sorts of different things, but they’re still a really important part of life that needs to be captured.”
Like other cities in New England, the architectural landscape is largely defined by the Colonial style, equally prolific here in Providence. But scattered throughout the city are a handful of Brutalist-designed buildings. A stark contrast to the homes along Benefit Street and College Hill, the Brutalism style was popularized in the 1950s and 60s, and finds itself at the center of conversation in the present day, with the Oscar-winning film “The Brutalist.” Hogue took us on a Brutalist walking tour of Providence, to see the buildings still standing, and those that met the wrecking ball.
The Beneficent House, 1 Chestnut Street (1967-present)
Perhaps the most well-defined Brutalist building in Providence is the Beneficent House. It was designed by Paul Rudolph, an architect known as one of the leaders of the Brutalist movement in the United States. His design of the UMass Dartmouth campus and its all-concrete structure now poses a $660 million problem for the school. Rudolph was also one of the architects used to inspire Adrien Brody’s character in “The Brutalist.” Brody’s performance earned him an Oscar this year.
Of the Beneficent House, Hogue is quick to point out that, unlike most Brutalist buildings which are primarily made out of concrete, this building is mostly brick, “But we can see that the structure itself feels very powerful. There is some edginess and rawness to it. The square blocky forms are very stark. So that is a testament of what brutalist architecture usually tries to accomplish.”
It may also speak to the integrity of the building, which Houge says remains in good condition.
Cathedral Square (1969-present)
Just across the street and a short walk from the Beneficent House is Cathedral Square. The church looms large over this corner of the city (you can see the clock towers from Beneficent House). The Brutalism seen here is in the Civic Plaza, which Hogue says was designed and built around the city’s vision for a pedestrian mall, which ultimately failed.
“Those kinds of activities were, in their mind, going to replace manufacturing and industrial activities and was really seen as the future of the city when they were remaking it in the 1950s and 60s.”
But Hogue says car culture persisted and most residents were not interested in walking through Westminster Street leading up to the Civic Plaza to shop. As a result, Hogue says today the space is seldom used.
“The church is still active, but they have much fewer festivals. They’re not using the space quite as much, so it feels large and empty most of the time, instead of as active as what they had wanted.”
As for its design, Hogue says Cathedral Square is filled with Brutalist inspirations, “With the buildings surrounding us, we can see they’re very blocky. There is that modern feel to all of the buildings here. Not a lot of ornamentation, really square, rectangular window openings and doorways. Things that are trying to, at the time, make a statement about modernity.”
John E. Fogarty Memorial Building, 111 Fountain St. (1967-2017)
The former home of the Department of Human Services, the John E. Forgarty Memorial Building was quintessentially Brutalist. Now, at its former location, you can find a Residence Inn and a 110 Grill.
Hogue says its concrete structure made the Forgarty building a challenge to work with in the face of any renovations or new plans the city may have had, “Cast concrete is not flexible. It doesn’t make for easy change in plans, interior plans, or exterior plans. And I think generally, this was probably one of the more despised buildings in the city. So quite a few people were not sad to see it go.”
He also points to the Forgarty building as an example of the nostalgia he sees in the comments left on his site. A woman named Ann comments saying, “It was the saddest of days when it was razed.” John writes saying of the building hosting the state welfare office, ”...growing up poor me and many I know can remember spending many grueling hours in early 80s sitting/playing in multicolored plastic chairs in a vast waiting room.”
Hogue says, “I really value the comments that I get from people because as an outsider, you can have one perspective of a certain place, but as someone who’s worked there used that facility visited time and time again, they have a completely different experience.”
Downtown Bonanza Bus Terminal, 1 Sabin St. (1963-1992)
The circular building at the corner of Sabin St. and West Exchange stuck out like a futuristic sore thumb when the Downtown Bonanza Bus Terminal was built in 1963. But as the years passed, Hogue says the need for transit in the area faded, and the city saw a better need for its future use.
“In the 90s when they started to remake downtown yet again, it was decided that a convention center would be a better use of the space.”
Hogue also says its unique shape and distinctly Brutalist features are a great example of how Brutalism attempted to predict what the future would look like, “I think Brutalism came along at a point in time where a lot of people were using it for kind of a Utopian ideal” but he’s also quick to point out that this vision for the future didn’t always pan out, “The way that we think about the future is always changing, but I think Brutalism is a real encapsulation of what we thought the future would be at that time.”
Which begged the question; are we in danger of losing most of our Brutalist structures in Rhode Island? Hogue says we might.
“It’s a very different aesthetic. I think it’s a little bit more difficult for people to understand at face value. And just our eyes have been trained to value a certain kind of architecture” and of the Brutalist buildings still standing today, “I think if people don’t start to look at them as they’re becoming 50 years old or older now, the same way that we look at historic structures from the 1880s, 1900s, we could lose quite a few more of them.”
