Le Havre and its unique modernist archi­tecture

Ground zero and radical new begin­nings

On 5 Sep­tember 1944, the face of Le Havre changed forever. Allied bombing all but obli­te­rated the his­toric centre. More than 5,000 people were killed, around 80,000 lost their homes and over 12,500 buil­dings were razed to the ground. A town once boasting narrow streets, mer­chants’ dwel­lings and store­houses had been reduced to 150 hec­tares of rubble. Buil­dings no longer obs­tructed the view of the sea.

Instead of recon­s­tructing the urban space – as many other European towns and cities had done – the French government decided to go back to the drawing board. The idea was not to just rebuild Le Havre, but redesign it as a modern archetype of a city. The top priority was to build apart­ments. But all other con­s­truction pro­jects ranging from local government buil­dings to churches to schools to cul­tural faci­lities and the infra­structure were also replanned.

Auguste Perret, a pioneer of rein­forced con­crete con­s­truction, was tasked with the job. Between 1945 and 1954, Auguste, his brothers Claude and Gustave, and a team of over 60 archi­tects deve­loped a coherent and (until today) unpar­al­leled vision for the new Le Havre. Decades passed until this urban-planning and archi­tec­tural triumph was reco­g­nised as pio­neering. In 2005, it was finally desi­gnated a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

An urban plan as a mani­festo

The vista from the 72-metre-high town hall tower – itself a Perret con­s­truction – pro­vides an excep­tio­nally good overview of the under­lying concept for the new Le Havre. Perret placed central buil­dings like the town hall and churches on his­toric sites. He retained the shape of the old harbour basin and deve­loped a clear, right-angled street grid. Three main axes form an urban tri­angle in the new centre. In the north, Avenue Foch, lined with avenues and resi­dential streets, con­nects the town hall square with the Atlantic. Two high-rises point the way to the coast. In the south, Rue de Paris leads to the old harbour basin and is flanked by arcades and small shops. François the First Bou­levard forms the dia­gonal axis and mirrors the shape of the coastline.

Perret’s Église Saint-Joseph du Havre is a new landmark resembling a light­house at the heart of the city. Due to Mar­guerite Huré’s superb stained-glass windows, the church also shimmers from within.

An urban layout that appears austere and func­tional on a map is actually very diverse in reality. Alleyways, small squares, pas­sa­geways, semi-open cour­tyards, shady arcades, spa­cious parks and car-free spaces feature between the major axes. The buil­dings vary in terms of height and per­mea­bility, without looking over­bearing. Ever­y­thing is designed to take light, air, and human beings into account. It’s the expression of a city built for everyone.

Archi­tecture with a system and a soul

Perret’s prin­ciples also applied to resi­dential buil­dings. All buil­dings are based on one clear grid with 6.24 metres spacing between each pillar and divi­sible by two and three. The sup­porting structure of con­crete pillars, cross-beams and ceiling panels remains visible. The grid creates order, but also allows diversity. Bal­conies, loggias, arcades and floor-to-ceiling windows are the result. The apart­ments them­selves are light flooded with fle­xible, open-plan layouts.

The facade served as a canvas of artistic expression. Perret mixed con­crete with splinters of glass and stones from the rubble. Depending on gra­nu­larity and pro­cessing method, he created sur­faces with pro­found mate­riality by grinding, sawing, chiselling, or poli­shing them. Con­crete, an indus­trial material, acquired a tactile quality that still sur­prises people today.

This feature is par­ti­cu­larly evident in the neigh­bourhood around Place de l’Hôtel-de-Ville. Perret spear­headed the con­s­truction of the buil­dings known as Immeubles sans affec­tation indi­vi­duelle (I.S.A.I.). One of the standard post-war flats is now an archi­tec­tu­rally very striking show apartment, fea­turing an open floor plan, modern fur­nis­hings, and sophisti­cated lighting. Desi­gners like René Gabriel and Marcel Gascoin pro­vided the fur­niture to match.

An urban, outdoor museum

Le Havre isn’t a place pre­served for all eternity, but a vibrant hub of change. Since the 500-year anni­versary cele­bra­tions in 2017, Normandy’s biggest city has been a fre­quent showcase of inter­na­tional art during the summer fes­tival called Un Été au Havre. Artists create works that explore urban history, space, and identity.

For ins­tance, there’s the La Lune s’est posée au Havre instal­lation by Arthur Gosse. In this case, a con­crete moon reposes on a pond on Saint-Roch Square and is lit up poe­ti­cally at night. Or there’s the UP#3 by Lang/Baumann, a geo­metric structure on the beach that rede­fines the rela­ti­onship between archi­tecture, sculp­tures, and the land­scape. Fabien Mérelle’s Jusqu’au bout du monde sculpture, showing the artist car­rying a child on his shoulders, has also become a symbol of respon­si­bility and the future. After a fire, dona­tions helped to finance its res­to­ration. Today, it’s located on the nor­thern seawall as a reminder of the past.

These works of art transform the urban space. They set accents, challenge per­cep­tions and invite debate – not from a distance, but in the everyday life of the city.

Twenty years as a UNESCO World Heritage Site

As one of just a handful of cities in the 20th century, UNESCO desi­gnated the recon­s­tructed centre of Le Havre a World Heritage Site on 15 July 2005. The orga­ni­sation paid tribute to the rebuilt city under Auguste Perret as an archi­tec­tural and societal blue­print.

In its anni­versary year of 2025, Le Havre will cele­brate with exhi­bi­tions, city tours, light pro­jec­tions, and an open pho­to­graphy com­pe­tition. Locals are invited to join in and include their memories, pic­tures, and per­spec­tives.

Places such as Oskar Niemeyer’s Volcan complex of buil­dings or the Bassin du Com­merce harbour basin will be illu­mi­nated and rede­signed. The anni­versary is not merely a retro­s­pective. It also prompts us to ask how we can build and rebuild for human beings, the com­munity, and the future.

Text: Hendrik Bohle

Photos (all): Hendrick Bohle