Modernism by Sea

Richard Bingham continues “Unlisted”, his series of articles on the unsung heroes of Shoreham’s architecture. Here he selects a much-admired house that exemplifies so much of the 1930s.

On a quiet suburban street in north Shoreham, the white house certainly stands out. Lots of people stop to take a closer look.

It’s not just the colour that attracts attention. The roof is flat, not pitched. The simple volumes eschew any bay windows. The metal glazing bars are horizontal and the white render remains undecorated. There’s not a hint of Arts and Crafts. No fussy timber detailing above the porch.

All these things make the white house recognisably Modernist, and an example of that style we should not, perhaps, be surprised to find on a suburban street in Shoreham. For Shoreham is, of course, by sea, and the white house is an example of what has been called Modernism by Sea.

The Golden Age of House Building

Suburbs were largely the creation of the inter-war period. Between 1918 and 1939 no fewer than 860,000 houses were built in Britain. The vast majority of these were built speculatively for private sale, and in a highly decorated style derided by snobbish architectural critics as “Tudorbethan”: bow windows, half-timbered gables and tile-hung facades – all complimented by brick and painted pebbledash.

It’s the kind of house most of us live in. And, because of its pastiche of backward-looking historicist details, the kind of house Modernist architects regarded with horror

In contrast, Modernism preferred clean lines and an absence of decoration (“ornament is crime”, went the slogan). Yet in the 1920s and 1930s the so-called International Style found it hard to gain a purchase in a traditionally-minded Britain, becoming limited to a few scattered examples in affluent suburbs and coastal areas.

In Brighton, for example, Embassy Court (1936) is an early example of a Modernist luxury apartment block. Embassy Court even featured the country’s first ever penthouse. The bands of white render and ribbon glazing make it typical of the International Style. But it was the sun worship associated with Modernism that made the south coast of England especially ripe for Modernist incursions. Balconies and ribbon widows make the most of direct sunlight and those panoramic sea views.

Travel a little further along the coast and you soon reach the restored Saltdean Lido (1938). Lidos in particular were democratic spaces where the healthy outdoor life envisioned by Modernist rhetoric might be pursued by all. In Bexhill-On-Sea, the famous De La Warr pavilion (1936) is perhaps the outstanding example of Modernism by Sea.

Again, white render, a low, horizontal profile and ribbon windows characterise these classic examples of seaside modernism, although here applied to public rather than residential buildings.

The Importance of Having Curves

What all these buildings also share is a curvaceous appearance. Along with other features of seaside modernism – the white render, the banded windows, the horizontal profile – The Shoreham house curves around its southern corner. On the Brighton seafront, meanwhile, the curvilinear edge of Embassy Court appears like the sudden prow of a ship. At Saltdean and Bexhill the viewing platforms that reach towards the water resemble the bridges of ocean liners.

It was marine architecture, that provided inspiration for much of seaside modernism. In the 1930s, before the age of mass air travel, ocean going cruise liners seemed new and exciting. Enormous floating hotels like the Normandie and the Queen Mary crossed the Atlantic in record times, boasting interiors that were the latest words in art deco luxury. An American Lido, the Aquatic Park Bathhouse in San Francisco (1936) bears the closest resemblance yet to the stacked, stepped back and sexily curvaceous superstructures of these glamorous ocean liners.

The curvy style we have described here is also known as Streamline Moderne. Like the record times set by those transatlantic liners, speed of communications and transport was the essence of 1930s modernity. As well as ships, other modes of transport – cars, trains, aeroplanes – started hurtling about. The world was shrinking, and to be speedy was to be streamlined. Curvy.

Streamline Moderne might have been derided by Modernist purists for its flashy, commercial appeal, but it undoubtedly added a touch of jazz to all those clean lines.

Wharf 21

It is not surprising, then, that the architect of Wharf 21 (2024), one of the large new blocks of waterside flats along the Western Harbour Arm in Shoreham, takes direct inspiration from seaside modernism.

The white render may have been replaced by glazed bricks less likely to weather badly – after all, this is the south coast of England, not the west coast of the United States – but Wharf 21 still curves in and out along the length of its facade. The edges are rounded and a penthouse floor scans the horizon from the roofline like the bridge of a ship.

The stylistic influence of seaside modernism is best appreciated in a closer view (below). The accent bands of grey brick seek to emphasise the horizontal aspect of Wharf 21. The sun balconies curve to meet a recession. To the side, the roof of the single-storey colonnade sails towards the street and is topped by yet another viewing platform.

But there is something wrong here. The balconies here are north-facing. Cast in deep shadow rather than basking in full sunshine, they are not functional at all. The effect is to reduce the massing of what is otherwise a fairly gargantuan building. And reducing the massing perhaps has less to do with sleekness than it has to do with obtaining planning permission. From the street, the curves here make the façade of the building less monumental, less overbearing, less objectionable.

Wharf 21 does not look sleek. It does not look like it might slip its moorings at any moment and sail off towards the distant horizon. Because of its sheer bulk, Wharf 21 remains firmly landlocked.

The horizontal profile and the classical sense of proportions evident in the white house – these notes of elegance are entirely missing.

Not so much jazz, as heavy metal. Not so much seaside modernist as waterfront cash cow.

Richard Bingham