Cumbernauld Town Centre is an architectural paradox. Born of post-war optimism and hailed as a visionary blueprint for the future, it was a colection of buildings that dared to reimagine community life in the concrete sky. In its day, it was celebrated, award-winning, and iconic. A symbol of a new Scotland looking ahead.

Time, however, has written a different story upon its weathered façades.

This book, Concrete Tears, is not an obituary. It is a careful, compassionate record of a complex present. Through these images, we are invited to look beyond the headlines of ‘ugliness’ or ‘failure’ and to witness something more nuanced, the quiet, relentless process of decay and the profound sense of neglect that has settled into its once-bustling walkways and empty spaces.

As a photographer based in Cumbernauld, my aim has been to document this process not with judgement, but with a local’s eye. The cracks in the concrete are not just flaws; they are narratives. The peeling paint and boarded-up doorways speak of changing times, shifting priorities, and the vulnerability of even our most ambitious dreams. There is a stark beauty in this decline, a melancholic poetry in the play of light across stained surfaces, and in the stubborn resilience of a structure that still commands the landscape.

Concrete Tears is an attempt to hold a mirror up to this architectural giant in its current state. It is a visual pause, a moment to consider the legacy of Brutalism, the care of our shared heritage, and the future of places that hold our collective memory. These photographs are, in their way, an act of preservation, capturing a fading landmark with the hope that in seeing its decay clearly, we might begin a more thoughtful conversation about what comes next.

This is Cumbernauld’s story, told in concrete, light and shadow.