How to build a better Britain, circa 1954 By Peter Aspden A new book on the Barbican estate shows the extent to which its architects were fired by idealism and noble intentions It is a grey and damp day in London and I am standing next to John McLean, the veteran British abstract painter, in the middle of the Barbican estate. He points to one of the buildings, a horizontal slab of small apartments supported over a large pond by thick concrete pilotis. The mean weather and dimming light do not show it to its best effect but McLean still finds it beautiful, he says. He was shown around one of the flats by a friend 16 years ago. "As my wife and I crossed the threshold, I remember saying that this could change our lives. And it did." The McLeans, who had been living out of a suitcase in Manhattan, decided to buy their own flat in the estate and have lived there ever since. Like most of the residents, they are subtly evangelical about their homes. "There is still such a deep prejudice in this country against anything that doesn't look suburban," says McLean. He has become an urban birdwatcher. "The Corporation [of London] puts carp in the lake and the herons take it away with gratitude." More On this story The Barbican estate is routinely described as an archetypal example of British architecture's brutalist period and remains unloved by many. Admirers of modernism might find it inspiring