It’s Not Easy Being Surly

In June 2013, Surly Brewing Co. of Minnesota released renderings of the new, $20 million brewery it plans to build in an industrial area of Minneapolis, and the criticism began pouring in.

“Brrrr! The design leaves me cold. It kind of reminds me of a school cafeteria with some tanks in the background [sic],” wrote one commenter on a Star-Tribune story about the new brewery. “Haha, did Surly hire a 1950’s era Eastern European architect to come up w/ the exterior design for this project?” wrote another.

The most criticized elements of the design are also its trademarks: the corrugated metal siding, and the elongated balcony (which one commenter compared to a “giant VCR”).

Some are calling the building’s style “Brutalist,” referring to the Cold War architectural style popular from the 1950s to the mid-1970s. The style is defined by fortress-like buildings whose predominant feature is an abundance of exposed poured concrete (the term even derives from the French word for “raw concrete”—”Béton brut”). Many of the government buildings and public housing complexes that were built in the style have since been replaced with more modern (less controversial) structures, and others, like the Prentice Women’s Hospital in Chicago, face threats of demolition.

One decidedly Brutalist trait is the exposure of functional elements of the building, which the Surly plans include.

“We found this industrial site, and we have embraced that,” says Omar Ansari, founder and owner of Surly. “The brewery’s front and center. It’s not just the brew top, the kettle tops and all the business end is hidden down below. That’s all out on display, and that’s the aesthetic that we like, so that’s kind of exactly what we want.”

“We have really tried to create an architecture that is appropriate to Surly,” says Steven Dwyer, an architect with the HGA firm, which is designing the building. “We really try to focus on the theatrics of how you display a brewhouse, a fermentation cellar.”

Part of Surly’s identity has always been “a Surly attitude”—Ansari frequently agitates for change in the Minnesota brewing laws, and their bold, graphic-novel-style beer labels don names like Furious, CynicAle and Hell and Darkness. So a building that embraces a raw, industrial look might seem appropriate.

Ansari wants people to give it a chance. “I think it will be a lot less off-putting,” Ansari says. “Once people get out there, it will be like, ‘Oh, that’s pretty cool. I guess I didn’t really have a sense of how it’s going to look.’”

The negative reaction, though most of it posted behind the safety net of online anonymity, indicates that fans of a brewery feel a sense of ownership, especially when it’s local, says Julia Herz, craft beer program director of the Brewers Association.

“I think that’s what’s happening, is that there’s a realization out there that breweries are now representing their communities. They’ve become destinations,” Herz says. “Active community members feel that they have a right to comment on what the brewery should be doing or not.”

Dwyer and Ansari echoed the term “destination brewery.” Tanks and other brewing equipment will be highly visible throughout the 8.3 acres of property, giving visitors an intimate connection with the beer-making process. A bar, restaurant, beer garden and events center are also part of the expansion, which will up Surly’s capacity to 100,000 barrels a year.

So, industrial, yes; but whether the design is “Brutalist” is up for debate. Though the building will incorporate some elements of the Brutalism style, such as the simple lines and exposed inner workings, it’s not in that genre at all, argues Nelson Benzing, a retired architecture and urban design professor from the University of North Carolina.

“I find it to be a quite eco-, human-friendly, modern building I would be proud have in my community,” says Benzing Jr. “To call this ‘Brutalist,’ one would have to be comparing it to barns.” ■