Tecton's
Dudley Zoo
by Ben Flatman
Tecton and Berthold Lubetkin
(1901-1990)'s roles in the history of British modernism have long been
recognised, yet not all of their work receives the attention that it deserves.
Far removed from the London-centric sphere of cultural consciousness, Dudley Zoo
(1935-37) is one such work, a neglected monument of national significance. The
Tecton practice's zoo buildings at London, Dudley and Whipsnade introduced
modernism to a mass audience and attained a degree of popularity and
face-to-face exposure that other architects could only have dreamed of. The
twelve surviving pavilions at Dudley are more than worthy of comparison with
their better-known London precursor, London Zoo's Penguin Pool (1933-34), and
represent a unique collection of works by an early modernist practice on one
site.
Arriving at Dudley Zoo today is not
an auspicious event. From the car park behind Gala Bingo, visitors pass a
decrepit nightclub in the cannibalised remains of one of Tecton's original
cafeterias. Although the festive entrance canopies are in good condition, they
no longer serve as the entrance. Visitors are instead corralled through a narrow
passageway into the uninviting realms of the zoo shop. There they are invited to
buy stuffed animals and colouring pads, but no time or space is given to drawing
peoples' attention to the Zoo's most remarkable exhibits – its buildings.
Finding the enclosures is made more difficult by the sixty odd additions made
since the opening, none of which makes any pretence to architectural merit. As
one explores the site and the twelve surviving buildings do begin to appear,
there is the sense of discovering lost treasures. Several stand as significant
works in their own right, while as a group they have no parallel. Foremost
amongst them are the Bear Ravine, Polar Bear Pit and Birdhouse, all of which
survive in relatively good condition. Others, such as Dudley's own Penguin Pool
and the Moat Café have been demolished or altered beyond recognition.
The
picture when the Zoo opened in the winter of 1937 would have been somewhat
different. Assuming they had beaten the throng of thousands to gain entry, a
visitor arriving on that first day would have found the thirteen original
pavilions loosely scattered within the pristine setting of the castle mound.
Dudley allowed Tecton many of the freedoms of a student project and working
closely with Ove Arup, they continued to explore their fascination with the
structural and sculptural potential of concrete. Tecton designed the enclosures
in such a way as to emphasise the steep inclines and densely wooded slopes. They
clearly relished the dramatic potential that the site provided but also
respected its natural beauty and calm. Using the existing roads and pathways to
stitch the buildings into their context, Tecton created an overall composition
reminiscent of an English landscape garden, but they were also clearly conscious
of the urban implications of what they doing. Just as some had seen the London
Penguin Pool as a prototype of a futuristic house, so Dudley can be interpreted
as a blueprint for an entire city. As the News Chronicle put it, the
new Zoo would be: “at once a scientific centre and an example of an ultra-modern
town plan.”
Berthold Lubetkin once said: “I
have the unfashionable conviction that the proper concern of architecture is
more than self-display. It is a thesis, a declaration, a statement of the social
aims of the age.” Encapsulated in the playful pavilions at Dudley is a call to
remember the higher calling of all architecture, embracing not just material
needs but also the desire to inspire and delight. Dudley Zoo did not change the
world but it does stand as a monument to a vision of an alternative modernism.
As with much of Tecton's work, it seems to anticipate a more relaxed and joyful
approach to form and function. It is not the dour, one-size-fits all
architecture that came to epitomise so much of post-war Britain , but rather a
unique, three-dimensional manifesto, written in concrete, for an enjoyable and
humane urban future.
Dudley Council is currently
planning a major redevelopment of the castle mound and zoo site. Working with
the developer St Modwen, they hope to use the project as a spur to wider
regeneration. After criticism of initial plans that proposed reducing the size
of the Zoo, they are now talking about an expanded zoological and environmental
theme park. While mention has been made of integrating the listed Tecton
buildings, the developers only pay lip-service to their importance and appear
blind to their potential as architectural attractions. John Allan's extensive
survey and restoration proposals of the early nineties have been long forgotten
and in the absence of a clear strategy for preserving and promoting the
enclosures, it seems that they are destined to linger on in a forlorn and
neglected state. At a time of growing appreciation for modern architecture it
seems perverse that one of the country's best early modern sites continues to
exist in obscurity and neglect. Sadly, recent precedents for buildings of this
period are not good and all the signs indicate the decades of indifference
displayed towards one of this country's prime architectural sites is set to
continue.