It seems to be a general consensus that Churchill College is recognised by its concrete-ness, its brutalist architecture, and its ‘prison’ vibe. Trust me, I felt the same about my college when I got pooled there in 2023. But, beyond the terrifying entryway, the straight lines and concrete are softened not only by the immense amount of beautiful green space, but by the myriads of art pieces that belong to the College.

The most noticeable piece that dominates the landscape beyond the College’s concourse is Hepworth’s ‘Four Square (Walk Through).’ The bronze sculpture is covered by a thick, dark patina that makes the sculpture turn a variety of shades between green and black, depending on how you look at it. Two vertical square slabs which are balanced onto a concrete pedestal support two further slabs which are placed transversely. Each square slab features a circular hole, creating a contrast between the sharp borders of the square, and the curving lines of the circles. Because of the transverse placements of the slabs, every side of the piece appears completely different and equally complex, therefore engagement with the sculpture can be a lengthy process, considering ‘Four Square’ from every angle, or a short one, simply appreciating it in the single angle you see it in as you walk past.

“Beyond the terrifying entryway, the straight lines and concrete are softened by the myriads of art pieces that belong to the College”

The courts of accommodation feature similarly fascinating pieces in the centre, like Bernard Meadow’s ‘Pointing Figure with Child.’ Meadows served in the Second World War, and his work can now be viewed as an inquiry into a reshaped humanity. His sculptures probe what it means to be human, especially in the times of anxiety following the war. The piece depicts a figure cradling a child, with one arm thrown up in horror. Its head is devoid of all features other than a single hole, which can be perceived as either an eye wide-open, or a screaming mouth, the idea of terror aligning with the arm in the air. It is as though the piece is looking upon something barbaric, the figure a cowering witness to something terrifying. The piece manages to successfully convey a sense of threat, which both becomes nullified and amplified through the feature of the child held in the figure’s arms.

As you walk through the college, the walls are decorated with abstract line drawings by the Spanish poet and playwright Federico Garcia Lorca. My personal favourite, ‘Nostalgia’ (1922) poses half of a face with one large eye, lips and an ear with protruding lines connecting to what I can only call ‘memories’, indicated by the use of letters. The lines cross over one another, indicating the overlap of memories, whilst others fade into minute dots, like they’re being forgotten. Some of the same lines have fresh branches protruding off them, as though we are seeing this face develop memories that will one day be dwelled on. The feature of another pair of lips which appear separate to the face, but are connected to the eye with a line is particularly eye-catching. It represents the synaesthetic experience, of senses coming together to add a richness to memories, which makes nostalgia such a sweet space of mind to sit in because you have the ability to relive memories in their fullness.

"The inclusion of these pieces gives you the opportunity to stop, contemplate, and get deep in your feelings before rushing off to the library"

This is especially poignant given the significance of university – one day I hope to have many lines of nostalgic thought, and with the branches of fizzled out thought being those of horrendous supervisions! But I digress. The inclusion of these pieces within the college concourse creates a miniature art gallery, giving you the opportunity to stop, contemplate, and get deep in your feelings before rushing off to the library.

A more recent outside edition is Jeppe Hein’s ‘Modified Social Bench for Cambridge' (2024), located at the top field of the college. The bench is an exciting adaptation of the classic, ubiquitous park bench, through its endeavour to make the act of sitting something that is more conscious and thoughtful. The interactive bench invites a community-response, whereby people can pause and connect to enjoy this piece of unique art. The bench and its surroundings become a place of activity and thinking rather than rest, and their bright blue colour can be seen from the other end of college, which in itself sparks curiosity and encourages people to go and take a look. Jeppe’s benches tow the line between being a dysfunctional object and a functional piece of furniture, which probes thoughts about the contradiction and relationship between artwork and functional object.

The college’s emphasis upon having art surround us in the college creates an environment where we are immersed into the pieces daily, whether that’s because you stop to admire and ponder, or you cast a quick glance as you rush off to your class. Having been at Churchill for 18 months now, the pieces become even more fascinating and wonderful for every day you are exposed to them. Although the college arguably doesn’t have the most awe-inspiring exterior architecture, the art transforms the college beyond the entryway, offering different stories and layers of the past to be explored and thought about. In the end, it’s not just the concrete and the cold lines that define Churchill College, but the way art transforms these spaces, turning stark structures into living reflections of history, humanity, and thought – it reminds us that beauty is often found in the most unexpected places.

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