Korea’s striking brutalist buildings are captured in a new visual volume

Brutalism continues to command fascination, and visual artist Paul Tulett has made its global iterations his subject – first in 'Brutalist Japan', and now, following that book's success, in a new volume: 'Brutalist Korea: A Photographic Tour of Post-War Korean Architecture', published by Prestel and launching today (7 April 2026).

Turning his lens to South Korea, Tulett documents the country's most compelling concrete landmarks across more than 220 images and over 90 architectural sites – from government complexes and university campuses to cultural institutions and public housing.

From the dense streets of Seoul to the literary enclave of Paju Book City, from the coastal urbanity of Busan to the cities of Daegu and Daejeon, Tulett maps a country's architectural identity. Among the sites featured are the Busan Port International Passenger Terminal, a functional maritime gateway for travellers; Steven Holl's Daeyang Gallery and House, a minimalist art space and residence in Seoul; Tadao Ando's Jeju Glass House, a concrete-and-glass retreat on Jeju Island; and Zaha Hadid's Dongdaemun Design Plaza, a futuristic cultural complex in the nation's capital.

Through this visual chronicle, Tulett tells the story of how Korean brutalism emerged. Arising in the 1960s and '70s in the wake of the Korean War, it was less a stylistic choice than a manifestation of national rebuilding – permanence forged in the face of destruction. The buildings Tulett photographs were shaped by a period of rapid industrialisation, and they carry that weight visibly in their modular repetition and monumental scale.

Crucially, these buildings were not simply transplanted from a Western canon, but adapted to their Korean context. Pioneers such as Kim Swoo-geun, Kim Chung-up, Lee Jong-sup, Choi Maeng-gi and Seung H-Sang produced work that fused global modernist ideals with a distinctly regional sensitivity.

The images are accompanied by Tulett's commentary, which makes a case for a body of architecture that deserves to be taken seriously – celebrated not despite its austerity, but because of it.

In 'Brutalist Korea', the buildings are not presented as monuments frozen in time but as living entities, inhabited and integrated into the evolving visual culture of the country. At a time when brutalist structures worldwide face neglect or demolition, chronicles like this matter – acting as both a visual record and a love letter to the movement.