One of the architectural features that marks out the skyline of Haarlem, a small Dutch city, is a 37.6m-high dome, crowning a rotunda. You might assume it was built for religious purposes – until you notice the bars covering its 230 windows.
Operating as a prison from 1899 until 2016, the Koepelgevangenis (“dome prison”) is one of three panoptic penitentiaries built in the Netherlands. All were shut down in the past decade as part of the country’s drive to reduce its prison population and are now being repurposed as arts venues.
Haarlem’s Koepel opened as a cultural hub in 2022, thanks to a grassroots initiative led by the local population. “So many of us Haarlemers had been biking around the dome for years, but no one could go in,” says Jacqueline van de Sande, co-founder of the Koepel Foundation, the organisation behind the building’s transformation. “We needed to open it up.”
As you step inside, you’re immediately struck by the vastness of the open space, bathed in sunlight streaming through the dome’s 16 original skylight windows. A cafe fills the ground floor with chatter. Above, nearly all the former cells are being rented. There’s a podcast studio, art school ateliers and gallery spaces, while the darkened cinema bar offers a more intimate charm.
The Koepel’s transformation is a far cry from the design’s dark history. The panopticon dates back to the 1700s, first envisioned by British philosopher Jeremy Bentham. Circular prisons with a central guard tower meant prisoners could feel as if they were being watched, without really knowing whether they were or not.
At the time, the British empire shipped convicts to Australia. Packed on to disease-ridden ships, many died on the journey. The panopticon was presented as a humane alternative, where prisoners were fed, kept warm, and “cared for” as they laboured.
“Bentham thought this would cause the prisoners to learn to love their work,” says Tim Causer, a principal research fellow at UCL’s Bentham Project. “But the psychological terror of thinking you’re being watched at all times, I imagine, would never leave you.”
In the 1970s, French thinker Michel Foucault highlighted the violence inherent in the design, deeming it a “laboratory of power”. More recently, the ominous structures have ignited the imaginations of sci-fi creators – depicted as inescapable citadels in Star Wars: The Clone Wars, and Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy. “The panopticon is a very powerful metaphor for surveillance,” adds Causer. “The building is always there, haunting you.”
Few panopticonic structures were ever built. None were constructed in the UK; isolated examples can still be found in abandoned sites in Cuba and the US. But the Netherlands has emerged as the unwitting “heartland” of panopticon design. The three well-preserved structures in Haarlem, Breda and Arnhem were engineered by Dutch architect Johan Frederik Metzelaar and his son Willem Cornelis, in the late 1880s. They praised Bentham’s design for restricting interactions between prisoners, who were in solitary confinement for 23 hours a day.
After its closure as a prison, the Koepel was temporarily repurposed to house Syrian refugees while the Dutch government sought to sell the building. However, its bleak design, dark atmosphere and staggering heating costs of €400,000 a year made it unappealing. “The state was worried it wouldn’t sell,” recalls van de Sande. Determined to find a solution, she called developers, universities, museums and organisations to garner support for the project.
The foundation eventually got the cooperation of the Haarlem municipality, allowing them to acquire the €6.5m property and embark on a €25m renovation project. Without modifying the protected structure of the building, they were permitted to put extra windows in each cell, add a cinema in the basement and upgrade insulation and heating systems, slashing bills by 90%. It is now undergoing further development with a hotel, student accommodation and an escape room planned, setting a blueprint for the other Dutch panopticons.
The Arnhem panopticon, acquired by Q Hospitality Group, is currently undergoing reconstruction with plans to transform the dome into a multi-function event space and hotel. Breda, jointly acquired by Being and VDD Project Development, is set to open in 2028. The revamped three-hectare site includes private housing around the dome, with the panopticon transformed into an exhibition space for audio-visual projects.
“It’s a big, open space. Where can you find that in historic city centres?” says Bas van Dam, the founder of Being. “There’s an obligation to give new life to places like this.”
The team cite Tokyo’s Teamlab and Paris’ CultureSpace as reference points for innovative immersive exhibition spaces. However, while these ventures have faced criticism for exploiting art as overpriced, Instagrammable experiences, the Being/VDD team maintains that their vision for the Koepel prioritises cultural value above financial gain. Private housing will drive rentability, while the panopticon will remain accessible.
“We are going to invest a lot of money in the dome as an art centre,” stresses Lauranne Snick, VDD’s head of acquisition. “It’s not going be a super commercial, profitable space. The compensation needs to go elsewhere.”
They have already spoken to creative partners who might want to use the space including Belgian festival Tomorrowland. “As a prison, it used to be a space where you didn’t want to be and couldn’t leave. We’re going to turn that around,” says van Dam. “You won’t want to leave.”
Back in Haarlem, the refurbishment has generated hundreds of jobs and the building welcomes up to 1,500 visitors daily. Yet if its multi-purpose atmosphere feels uplifting, ventures like prison escape rooms (a feature in both Haarlem and Arnhem) risk trivialising the building’s dark past.
One of the most striking experiences is a historical one, in a cell next to the main entrance, which measures just 4×2.5m. On the wall, panels describe the life of Hannie Schaft, one of the few female armed resistance fighters in the Netherlands, whose task was to identify and liquidate traitors. She was caught in March 1945 and imprisoned in the Koepel, before being taken to Amsterdam and executed aged 24.
Sophie Poldermans, the author of a book about Schaft’s life called Seducing and Killing Nazis, stresses the importance of this small exhibit: “So people are aware, not only of Schaft’s story but the fact it was a prison. You can still feel that energy, even though it is now a much lighter space.” Nonetheless, as a Haarlemer herself, she is thrilled to see the enigmatic dome gain a new life. “It’s an icon. And it’s beautiful.”
