Union North's Three Towers in Manchester

Phase two of the Three Towers, as seen from the 'Emmeline' tower

'Modern Architecture died in St Louis, Missouri on 15 July 1972, at 3.32pm (or thereabouts) when the infamous Pruitt-Igoe scheme, or several of its slab blocks, were given the final coup de grâce by dynamite… This moment became a media event… because the world wished Modern housing to die an ignominious death.' So writes critic Charles Jencks in Critical Modernism, his 1996 update of What is Post-Modernism?.

Budget, brief, programme: measurable priorities in architecture are easy to define. The notion of 'social engineering', however, is more contentious – people rarely agree on how much construction professionals can help communities, as wild claims of success (thank the policy-makers) and failure (blame the designers) abound. But occasionally, leading individuals substantiate their status by describing the immeasurable with confidence. David Chipperfield did this recently in his 2007 yearbook, summarising the architect's greatest challenge in one line: 'To fight battles that no one asks us to fight.''Our clients,' Chipperfield wrote, 'are not only those who commission us, but also those who occasionally visit, pass each day or work in the buildings we design'. Anticipating and addressing the undescribed demands of others is where true success lies. In this pursuit, what is most exciting is when an architect's natural inclination to amplify the brief is supported and driven by their client.

Vertical emphasis is given to the cladding with narrower horizontal panel joints. Corner windows also provide stunning views

Manchester-based Urban Splash is such a client, a developer which makes bottom-line decisions without paring down its aspirations to a builder's basics range. The company built up its reputation by leading a responsive UK market to the concept of loft life through the regeneration of industrial shells in Liverpool and Manchester, but has resisted specialising, instead pursuing diverse new modes of development by making even the most unlikely stakeholders key figures. Having adapted traditional types, such as the terrace house with ShedKM at Chimney Pot Park in Salford, and promoted the resuscitation of Modern landmarks, such as Park Hill in Sheffield with Hawkins\Brown, on this project Urban Splash chose to tackle the problem of the council flat; those stumpy, mid-rise, neglected buildings that exist in almost every British city. And it employed Union North, a Liverpool-based practice which describes itself as 'restless, creative and humanistic'.

In January 2001, as recalled by Union North's Lance Routh, the brief for the project was unsurprisingly 'vague'. Urban Splash rarely issues definitive briefs. According to deputy chief executive Nick Johnson, in a market dominated by box-ticking, Urban Splash maintains its three golden rules in the delivery of 'proper places' as being unprofessional, unaccountable and irresponsible. This, of course, should be taken in the spirit of provocation with which it is given. While it works hard to maintain market dominance, Urban Splash's methods are undeniably unorthodox, which has on occasion limited its ability to produce compliant bids, particularly when seeking to break into the more risk-averse London market. On home turf, however, its rules of engagement repeatedly produce the goods, and on this occasion, the measurable brief was to bring the spatial and environmental qualities of 180 former council flats in Collyhurst up to and beyond market standard, with the immeasurable being to change people's perception of this much-neglected part of central Manchester; an area that when viewed from the train that passes over one of its viaducts reveals surplus housing stock, comprising many derelict Victorian and post-war homes.

Seen from the train, the towers have a new distinguished image, set within landscape characterised by its industrial past

Manchester City Council was looking to dispose of some of its unwanted buildings, offering six derelict 1960s blocks by way of informal tender to a suitable partner that would deliver the refurbishment of the blocks over a period of time. Urban Splash was attracted by the site's proximity to the city centre, just 2.5km north-east, and felt that there was actually very little wrong with the buildings as they stood. All they needed was the sort of TLC and investment that had been absent during a decade of dereliction. The densities were in line with current targets, and in terms of compliance with Part L of the Building Regulations, the robust concrete frame provided an ideal starting point for a necessary upgrade: simply reconfigure openings in the brick walls, infill balconies with SIPS (a structurally insulated panel system), and hang rainscreen on cladding rails that span from floor slab to floor slab (in this case using a product with real timber veneer by Prodema). Job's a good-un, you could say. Clearly, however, there was more to it than that. The context was also a key consideration.

From the outset the design team included landscape architect Gross.Max, which helped create a robust vision for the area that could be sustained as the places were constructed. Recalling hours spent walking the site, the designers were immediately struck by qualities of what they describe as a 'strange pocket of land' that borders the River Irk as it flows in and out of culverts towards the city centre.

In this context the reimagined image of the buildings as a trio of Jenga-like timber towers responds to the post-industrial habitat characterised by the birch-lined landscape that subtly alludes to Collyhurst's past, its name originally meaning 'wooded hill'. Market forces also had a key influence, with the final technical solution expressing subtle changes in the market. Urban Splash has a streetwise understanding for the sort of market that its developments will attract and sustain, and as such the team spent intervening years balancing potential values with various scopes and specifications of works. As Routh recalls, during this period almost every conceivable option was tested. The team even considered adding more floors, and when values were low, they considered just replacing the windows. As demand for one- and two-bedroom flats rose, however, the option to completely over-clad the building eventually became more viable and emerged as the preferred option. At this critical point a commercial judgement was taken, and it was literally 'go, go go', with the design team and Urban
Splash's own construction company Build leaping into action.

Beyond this, the strategy itself is relatively unremarkable and the team makes no overblown claim to innovation. With one or two notable exceptions, nothing here is more advanced than the sort of tried-and-tested strategies promoted on structural engineers Price & Myers' online guide to refurbishing towers (www.sustainingtowers.org). What is different, however, is the confident spirit in which the moves have been made, and the consistency with which the designer's attention to detail has been applied. At every level from car-park to lobby to kitchen-counter splashback, a degree of finesse has been applied as the architects consciously avoided doing the 'typical council job', which would traditionally involve the application of ridiculous pitched roofs, garish cladding, and crude vandal-proof detailing. Here it genuinely feels that just the right balance has been struck between contemporary style, sophistication and utility, with the distinctive cladding composition addressing the buildings' previously stumpy image. Whether you like the re-branding or not (with the towers named after the Manchester-born Pankhurst suffragettes – Emmeline, Christabel and Sylvia), it cannot be disputed that this scheme sets the standard for the resuscitation, reinvention and reuse of the many miserable tower blocks that blot our urban hinterland.

The communal lobbies are freely ventilated and daylit by glazed louvres

In plan each of the five flat types have been improved, with the four corner units enveloping balconies to provide wider and more flexible kitchen/dining/living rooms, and with the central studio flat using space gained from the elimination a lift to provide a proper one-bedroom unit. While the loss of a balcony may disappoint some, at a time when the micro-balcony has become a meaningless designer tag of so-called luxury apartments, in reality, floor-to-ceiling windows provide exceptional views, and generous halls provide sufficient space for the pushchairs, cycles and laundry that usually clutter external shelves. Interestingly, however, the loss of the balcony is not absolute, as a sense of subdivision is maintained by the retained column. As suggested in the marketing images, ideally this perimeter strip should be kept free of furnishing, maintaining access to the full-height windows and providing an area that invites a micro-promenade; the perfect place to pace up and down while making arrangements on the phone for a night out somewhere on the not-so-distant horizon.

What is also refreshing is that there is a consistency across the market sectors, with all three towers completed to the same specification, regardless of the status of the final occupant. Completed a year ago, the first tower (Emmeline) was sold on in its entirety to an independent investor, (a necessary evil when financing such a project). Phase two will see the completion of Christabel, which has already sold out to a mix of private investors and owner occupiers, and Sylvia, which is being offered to local residents under English Partnerships' First-Time Buyers Initiative (a scheme that enables buyers to purchase a share of their home, with no rent to pay on English Partnerships' share and with fees only kicking in after three years that will be capped at 3 per cent) on 14 April before the main public launch on 25 April.

View of the three towers, showing the mast climbing rig that removed the need for cranes

With work on the final two towers nearing completion, it is impressive to see how efficiently the construction process is managed. Employing the same mast-climbing rig used to perform routine council maintenance up the road, these buildings have been completely transformed without the need for cranes, or scaffolding, or sophisticated engineering. On a more generic level, whether or not social engineering actually exists today, it is indisputable that redundant towers like these can have a damaging hold over the neighbourhoods they overshadow.

Totemic of current moods, buildings can express both the symptoms of a depressed community at worst and the optimism of regeneration at best. What this project demonstrates is that even if Jencks was right, and if Modernism did die on 15 July, 1972, at 3.32pm (or thereabouts), it only did so momentarily. Resuscitation is possible and we should not go about wasting embodied energy, and eliminating places that do have distinction. As Will Alsop recently stated in discussion with Urban Splash and a number of its currently engaged architects at Tate Modern: 'When we knock down buildings, we also knock down the theories behind an architectural generation.'

Clearly not everything in the 1960s was ill-conceived, and, as Urban Splash and other enlightened developers are beginning to realise, it is possible to breathe new life into dry bones and to advance established architectural theories.

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