Since the end of Communist Party rule in Romania in 1989, the country has put a great deal of collective effort into distancing itself from the regime. However, the legacy of this period of Romanian history remains present in a lot of ways in everyday life in Romania, particularly in the form of brutalist and socialist modernist architechture. Throughout my time in Romania, I have been on the lookout for examples of this, as I’ve long held a fascination for this type of architecture. Brutalist and socialist modernist buildings have long been tied to the image of a gloomy, depressing, and oppressive governance and society, at least in the U.S. and the West more broadly, in part as a legacy of Cold War anti-communist propaganda. Whilst the merits and drawbacks of these architectural styles can be debated, their frequent demonization in the society I’ve grown up in has made me interested in them as a juxtaposition to the architecture that I’ve grown up with.
What is objectively true is that the emergence of such styles of building was rooted in socialist ideals, principles, and policy — hence their prevalence throughout Eastern Europe. Brutalist and socialist modernist architecture emphasize egalitarian treatment of those living in such buildings, raw honesty that doesn’t hide behind a facade, and ease of building and low cost so that massive infrastructure projects could be constructed and housing (or office space) could easily be provided to all. The geometric, darker colored, non-ornate designs might look drab to some, but to me they show a boldness and idealism that are admirable. Besides, I personally think that they have more character than Levittown-style ranchers, Toll Brothers-style McMansions, or gentrifying grey box apartments (which all look the same as each other; maybe we in the U.S. aren’t as creative with our buildings as we’d like to believe).
Getting to stay in such buildings was admittedly a highlight of the trip for me. In both Deva and in Cluj, we stayed in hotels built during the Communist era. Their practicality, ability to fit so much inside a single room, and architectural distinctiveness made them stand out compared to any other hotel I’ve stayed in (be it during this trip or at any other time). I took note of the prominence of balconies in every room of both Communist-era hotels we stayed in, which wasn’t the case for any of the other hotels we went to. These balconies were not only available to all rooms, but were aligned close to one another, such that one could easily have a conversation from room to room. Though this did cause some problems for our chaperones when we would congregate as a group on someone’s balcony to talk late into the night. I guess that could be seen as an instance of the communal ideals of the hotels’ architects being implemented a little too well.
