When talking about concretization, cutting down real forests for "tree plantations," over-scaled investments or ignoring the local context, we like to think of these phenomena as national flaws. But the problems are more global than we think, as Fredrik Kullberg's book, "The War on Beauty. A report on the disfigurement of Sweden."
"War on Beauty. Reportage on the disfigurement of Sweden" by Swedish journalist Fredrik Kullberg, translated by Aleksandra Sprengel, was published in Poland by the Dowody na Istnienie publishing house. It differs from the Swedish version not only in its quieter cover, but also in its lack of illustrations. From the perspective of a reader of books on architecture and urbanism, the lack of illustrations can be an unforgivable mistake. In this case, we are dealing with the "Reporter Series", in which illustrations, unless they are an essential part of the story, are omitted.
Can Sweden be ugly?
Fredrik Kullberg's book focuses primarily on Sweden's modernization processes, which were to dominate Swedish women's and Swedes' thinking about society. Adaptation to modern technology and the conditions of the so-called fourth industrial revolution became a priority.
Modern technology hubs and large logistics centers, usually built on the site of cleared forest groves, began to spring up in the landscape of Swedish regions. Modern shopping malls are being built without proper communication with neighboring developments, while apartments and residential buildings are butchering local architecture, removing it for the construction of large complexes. Kullberg's reportage also gets at the overseers of Sweden's forests, who were said to be cutting down unique wildernesses, turning them into plantation conifer monocultures (where do we know that from?), the lack of savvy in using wind power without respect for the landscape, or the massive destruction of railroad buildings. In the book, published in 2020 (the book only came out in Poland this year), Kullberg also mentions people fighting for trees, who often face contempt for their activities. The problem the author cites is also partly concretism.
In the author's descriptions, Sweden appears as a paradise of futurists, for whom only what is new matters. The "War on Beauty" of the title is a blind gaze to the future without appreciating what is already there. Modernity, according to Kullberg and his interlocutors, appears as a process, not so much unnecessary as ill-conceived and authoritarian. A process in which all respect for what was has been overlooked. Why is Sweden facing such problems? Kullberg calls ita "country of engineers," which in itself may suggest a certain lack of aesthetic and social sensitivity.
can a thousand-year-old woman be beautiful?
The problems described in "The War on Beauty," such as the destruction of the fabric of old cities, the cutting down of forests, the lack of adequate protection of cultural assets, or over-scaled projects that make life difficult for local communities chasing at least minimal economic keeping up with large centers, are all valid and worth noting. However, the author's approach to modernism is problematic.
Kullberg recalls the history of Swedish modernism from the architectural and political side. He discusses the architectural manifesto of Accepter in 1931 or the social-democratic politics of Folkhemmet. He points out how close ties there were to chauvinist and racist circles, often having little to do with a genuine quest for equality. He also gets at Le Corbusier in many places, whom the author reproaches for his collaboration with Vichy France or other totalitarian states. The reportage gives the impression that modernism, with all its functionality, was a tragedy for Sweden.
When in Poland for years there have been successive books and films attempting to rehabilitate the architecture of modernism including an attempt to break the reputation of the block as gray and dreary, in Kullberg's book every now and then we encounter a pejorative description of this heritage. The difference stems primarily from the genesis of this trend. In Poland, through which the hell of World War II passed, the situation was quite different from that in wealth-accumulating and developing Sweden, which was not tarnished by any war. For Kullberg, the most devastating thing was the removal of entire city districts in Sweden, usually ones that were not only not in ruins, but were livable. The author even points out that no country removed as much working urban fabric for the construction of new settlements after World War II as Sweden.
Above all, it's a view that's hard to understand from a Polish perspective, where the construction of housing estates along with schools provided previously unknown opportunities for rural residents, for whom education and access to electricity or running water were luxuries. One is left to ask Kullberg, can a thousand-year-old school be beautiful?
Polish edition of the reportage
© Dowody na Istnienie Publishing House
a broader perspective
Published in Poland, "War on Beauty" still remains an important position, perhaps allowing us to look at Polish problems from a different perspective. Perhaps all those concrete squares of ours, cut down forests, monuments falling into ruins or over-scaled investments in offices, impractical apartments or shopping malls are not just a "Polish hell", but rather something universal and common.
Of course, we shouldn't hide behind Sweden when analyzing our Polish shortcomings, but it's worth saying sometimes, "hey, we're not unique in spoiling our landscape." The problems cited by Kullberg, as emphasized by Filip Springer in the book's afterword, may become the problems of the future in Poland - particularly if innovation dominates sustainability.
