Some buildings become part of the skyline, while others become part of a city's identity in a complicated, contested, and quietly iconic way. Plymouth's Civic Centre, a towering post-war structure designed in the spirit of optimism and municipal ambition, falls squarely in the latter camp. Now, a new book titled Civic captures this architectural outlier at a pivotal turning point. Shot by photographer Dom Moore and designed and published by 51 Studio, the 128-page hardback offers a richly textured portrait of the Civic Centre in transition – not quite abandoned, not yet renewed. The project began as a shared curiosity between long-time collaborators Dom and 51 Studio's Dave Tetley. As Plymouth City Council prepared to vacate the building, Dom gained two days' access to document the empty offices, faded signage, terrazzo corridors and overlooked details that had, for decades, supported the daily workings of city life. What he found was a space caught between eras, once viewed as an emblem of civic pride and public service, but now imbued with a haunting stillness. "The Civic Centre has been a presence in Plymouth for generations," says Dom. "But moments of transition like this often go undocumented. This book is about capturing the echoes of what was left behind and the quiet beauty of a space in flux." The Civic Centre was completed in the early 1960s as part of Plymouth's bold post-war reconstruction. Its distinctive gull-wing roof, dramatic vertical form, and prominent location made it a landmark but not always a beloved one. Locals have long been divided over its merits, seeing it alternately as a brutalist masterpiece or a concrete monolith best forgotten. This tension sits at the heart of Civic, and Dom's approach is refreshingly non-partisan. "I wanted to create a record of its existence through stills photography, in its transitory period, without bias," he explains. Shot digitally in Dom's signature cinematic style, the images are both documentary and atmospheric, resisting nostalgia while honouring the building's material poetry. The collaboration with Dave helped elevate Civic from a photo series to a fully formed artefact. While Dom captured the light, texture, and quiet drama of the interiors, Dave shaped the narrative flow and design direction, using typographic interventions and graphic pacing to echo the building's institutional past. "There's quite a distinctive typographic approach in the book," Dave explains. "That became a key part of how the story of the Civic Centre was told visually. The building was in a state of transition, and the design aimed to echo that sense of shifting purpose and fading grandeur." In other words, this is no glossy coffee-table celebration. Instead, Civic functions more like a time capsule, capturing the final days of a building before its transformation and inviting readers to consider what civic spaces really mean and who they're for. Dom, who grew up in Plymouth, recalls the Civic Centre less as a seat of bureaucracy and more as a cultural touchstone, not least for the city's skateboarding community. "Knowing less of its civic duties and more about the significance to the Skate community, who used it as a hub to meet, skate and socialise, made me realise how many stories the building held." Among the images, themes of disappearance and digital displacement emerge, as empty interview rooms, silent service counters, and derelict meeting areas point to a wider shift away from face-to-face services. "It really showed the death of face-to-face services in a world that was rapidly moving 'online'," Dom reflects. And yet it's clear that the building's physical presence remains undeniably powerful. From the wood-panelled lift lobbies and artificial skylights (described by Dom as "very Kubrickesque") to the sweeping roof terrace with panoramic city views, there's a grandeur that lingers. "Seeing it empty was a completely different experience," says Dave. "The spaces took on this strange, almost liminal quality like they were caught between past purpose and an uncertain future." The book doesn't shy away from this uncertainty. In fact, it leans into it. The cover itself invites debate, posing the building as a 'landmark/eyesore/icon/masterpiece'. It's not a question but a provocation, opening space for reflection rather than offering a definitive view. In recent years, many modernist buildings in the UK have faced demolition, neglect or contentious redevelopment. For Dave and Dom, Civic is a small act of resistance – a way to slow down, look closely, and invite new perspectives on buildings we often ignore or underestimate. "Hopefully, this series might encourage or inspire anyone of any ability to consider documenting changes within their locality or community," says Dom. "Whether that's the removal of trees or greenspace, or a telephone box, or a building that had a history or a story." So what's next for the Civic Centre? After a promising but ultimately abandoned redevelopment plan by Urban Splash, the building is now back under the stewardship of Plymouth City Council. New plans include a 144-apartment retrofit of the tower and the introduction of City College Plymouth's Blue Green Skills Hub on the lower levels. A renewed planning application is in the works, and with it, the hope of meaningful reinvention. For Dave, the future is cautiously optimistic. "It was really exciting to see the building in the hands of people who have a track record and sophistication with disused buildings. So it was a bit of a hammer blow to see those plans shelved. But it's encouraging to see the Civic central to the City Centre vision again." Until then, Civic stands as a quiet, compelling reminder that public buildings are more than bricks and mortar. They're vessels of collective memory, no matter how awkward, ambitious, often overlooked, and well worth documenting before they disappear.