The country's forthcoming wave of slick contemporary architecture is a potent symbol of its rocketing economy
The latest available statistics from the World Bank indicate that India's gross domestic product has seen annual growth of 8.5%—more than doubling the 4% of 2000. Reflecting this growth and the country's increasing presence on the international stage as an IT and economic powerhouse, the nation's leading companies, including Wipro (WIT), Infosys (INFY), and Tata Consultancy Services are constructing new corporate campuses.
Similar to China's architectural boom (see BusinessWeek.com, 12/23/2005, "China's New Architectural Wonders")", India's forthcoming wave of slick contemporary architecture, even beyond offices, symbolizes the Asian nation's rocketing economy, which first began to open up 15 years ago. Via a series of superlative skyscrapers, shopping centers, and residences that are the tallest, the largest, the "greenest," or the first of their kind, the country is quickly presenting itself as a 21st century global power.
In 2005, for example, Infosys Technologies opened its $65.4 million Global Education Center in Mysore. Located on a 270-acre, $119 million campus, the facility is the largest IT training center in the world, accommodating 4,500 trainees at any given time and hosting up to 15,000 per year. The center is being expanded to handle double the number of employees. While its glassy, futuristic design might evoke corporate buildings in Silicon Valley, the campus also features an Indian touch: a cricket pitch.
A MODERN TOUCH.
Software, engineering, and management-consulting giant Wipro commissioned Indian architect Vidur Bhardwaj to design an office in Gurgaon based on the traditional structure, the haveli (a house built around an open-air courtyard). Meanwhile, Tata Consultancy Services, a division of mega-conglomerate Tata Group, will soon see a sprawling, $200 million campus in Chennai designed by noted Uruguayan architect Carlos Ott in association with Carlos Ponce de Leon Architects (a nod to Tata's expansion into Latin America).
Buildings will feature a step-like structure recalling those found in centuries-old South Indian temples—only these are rendered in ultra-contemporary glass. It's scheduled to be completed next year and will boast the tallest tower in Southern India.
"By proposing to build their offices referencing Indian architectural design in this age of globalization, Indian companies are sending several messages," observes Islamabad (Pakistan)-based Saeed Shafqat, who teaches courses on South Asia at Columbia University's School of International & Public Affairs, in an e-mail interview.
"They're saying India has a heritage that is coming of age. And that Indians are taking genuine pride in their history, culture, and architectural contributions even in the modern era," Shafqat continues. "Finally, they are saying that Indian multinationals are a force to be reckoned with. [The new architecture] suggests economic self-confidence and strong national identity."
PROCEEDING WITH CARE.
But some experts believe architects and corporations should proceed with caution when planning structures with obvious Indian references. Plans for brand-building via recognizably Indian design motifs could seem simplistic or theme-park-like in their approach.
"Culturally specific motif application is not new. To some extent, it is an easy way to refer to the notion of cultural context," observes Vishakha Desai, President of the Asia Society, the nonprofit organization founded 50 years ago by John D. Rockefeller III to foster deeper understanding between Asian nations and the U.S.
She points to structures such as SOM's Jin Mao tower in Shanghai, completed in 1999 and known for its pagoda-like details, as an earlier example of too-obvious, recognizably "Asian" architecture.
"The real challenge for contemporary Indian architects is to understand the historical principles of Indian architecture and design, as well as the specific materials used traditionally and appropriately in the climate," says Desai, who holds a doctorate in Indian art history. "They need to think beyond the quick, knee-jerk reaction of simply adding an 'Indian' motif."
Some architects commissioned to design projects to be completed within the next 10 years are doing exactly what Desai suggests. New York architects Tod Williams and Billie Tsien, for example, have designed a new Bombay campus for Tata Consultancy Services (to be completed by 2010) that incorporates elements such as a jali, a traditional carved screen used for centuries as both sunshade and ventilated wall.
Williams and Tsien's jali is more angular and contemporary and less florid than screens of the past. But it serves as a nod to Indian architectural history as well as providing an eco-friendly way to keep offices cool using natural shade and ventilation.
Sustainability is now a real consideration within Indian architecture. The country, which is highly dependent on coal for energy, is widely known to be one of the world's most polluted.
A study published in June, 2006, by the Community Environmental Monitors (CEM), an independent environmental health agency, indicated that millions of Indians in both urban and rural environments were exposed to up to 32,000 times more than the globally accepted standards for 45 harmful chemicals and 13 carcinogens.
As if to combat such disturbing images of India's polluted landscape, Indian and international architects commissioned to design edifices in India are increasingly producing "green," or eco-friendly architecture.
ENERGY SAVERS.
Projects such as Williams and Tsien's design for Tata make use of natural light and ventilation, cutting down on energy consumption that contributes to air pollution. Vidur Bhardwaj's haveli design for Wipro is not only an homage to traditional Indian buildings, but also provides cost-effective cooling—via the open-air public courtyard — that's necessary for hot Indian days.
Carlos Ott's forthcoming Chennai campus for Tata Consultancy Services uses these ideas and also recycles waste water to conserve resources, following the lead of the 2003 CII—Sohrabji Godrej Green Business Center in Hyderabad. This 20,000-square-foot minimalist office building became the only structure outside of the U.S. to receive the LEED (Leadership in Energy & Environment Design) Platinum ranking when it opened.
Will the new forms of Indian architecture endure as long as the spectacular Elephanta rock-cut temples (built circa 600 A.D.) or the elegant Taj Mahal (a wonder of the world dating back to the 17th-century Mughal era)? Only time will tell. India's architectural past is certainly long, rich, and deep. But the newest additions to the continuum that is India's architectural timeline appropriately reflect the latest chapters in the South Asian nation's economic history.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Architecture of the Islamic Courts
After the Islamic conquest in India - (by the 12th-13th C in the northern plains, and by the 14th C in the Deccan plateau), monumental architecture in India often came to be defined by the tastes of medieval India's Islamic rulers. Construction activity became more geared towards the demands of the elite, and the voluntary participation of the masses in monumental construction became greatly reduced, or even entirely eliminated.
In Sanchi, it is useful to note that the construction of the Toranas involved the voluntary labor and contributions of much of the citizenry. Voluntary participation in the construction and maintenance of temples in South India and in the Deccan region has also been recorded and quite likely occurred throughout India.
Yet, it would be an error to think that popular influences on Indian architecture were completely extinguished. In the Gangetic plain, folk influences continued to play a vital role in the decor of Havelis and village homes; traditions like Rangoli also continued. In the regional courts, folk influences played an important role not only in the fine arts, but also in royal furniture and architectural decor. Folk influences also found their way in some of the smaller mosques and Sufi shrines which were painted with floral motifs in folkish style.
The change in ethos was reflected most in prominent urban landmarks, in the architecture of city gateways and inns for the nobility, and in the design of royal mosques and tombs. But, it would be incorrect to consider India's Islamic architecture as an entirely foreign implant as some art historians (both in the West and in India) are inclined to do. As we shall see, traditional Indian tastes and influences played an important role in shaping the most vibrant monuments commissioned by India's Islamic rulers.
Some art historians have routinely treated Indian art and architecture of the Islamic period as a regional derivative of Persian art and architecture - almost a poor cousin of the grand Persian Islamic tradition. Western biases and an admiration of all things Persian amongst sections of the Urdu speaking Indian intelligentsia have combined to spread the myth that all great Islamic art originated in Persia and the quality of art and architecture sponsored by India's Islamic rulers must be judged by how closely it came to meeting Persian ideals. That many of India's Islamic rulers employed Persian artists in their ateliers and Persian poets and writers found favor in the royal courts cannot be denied. But this obsession with connecting all things Islamic in India to Persia has not only led to an extremely selective and distorted analysis of the Islamic legacy in India, it has been based on a rather superficial examination of the Islamic legacy. Not only have art historians often failed to distinguish between what came from Persia from elsewhere, such as Afghanistan, Iraq or Central Asia - it has led to the virtual neglect of those aspects of the Islamic legacy in India where the predominant influences have been almost entirely from within the subcontinent. (Art historians have also failed to investigate the possibility of Indian influences impacting Persian tastes and sensibilities as was quite likely during the reigns of Jehangir and Shah Jehan).
Many art historians who attempt to analyze "Islamic" art in India seem to forget that the Islamic faith was born in a rather barren land without a history or tradition of support for the fine arts. (Although some argue that the Arabian peninsula had a rich tradition of terra-cotta sculpture that vanished with the iconoclastic ascent of Islam.) In any case, in terms of architecture, prior to the ascendance of Islam in the Middle East, one could speak of monumental Egyptian, Persian or Babylonian architecture, but certainly not Meccan architecture. As Islam spread, it was obliged to borrow and adapt from the older traditions that already existed in the lands it conquered. For instance, the Islamic monuments of Syria and Palestine have a remarkable resemblance to Byzantine architecture of earlier centuries with the important exception that all portraiture is avoided. Although vegetal motifs are employed with exuberance in the 7th-8th C Umayyad architecture in Syria and Palestine, later Islamic architecture, especially from Central Asia relied almost exclusively on abstract figuration.
But since sculptural decoration and representation of animals and nature played such a significant role in the architecture of pre-Islamic India - the advent of Islam (at least initially) led to mere imitation of forms borrowed from Central Asia. What seemed fresh and original in Bukhara during the Samanid reign (9-10th C) became dull, laborious and out of place when transplanted into Indian soil. With the exception of a few monuments that make rather effective use of decorative columns and motifs from earlier Jain monuments as in Ajmer or the Qutb area in Delhi - early Islamic architecture in India is singularly bland and uninteresting. Much of it is starkly austere and coldly aloof from the more lively traditions of the subcontinent. It is only after the 13th century when a bit of whimsy and ornamental fancy begins to enliven some of India's Islamic monuments (as in Chanderi). But this influence comes from Turkey, not Persia!
Outside India proper, architecture in the Islamic courts continues to make progress, culminating in the the construction of the overwhelmingly grand monuments of the Timurids in Herat, Samarkand and Bukhara (14th-15th C and onwards). Although the Timurids wreaked considerable havoc on their immediate neighbours and raided and plundered lands as far West as in Eastern Europe, the Timurids were not wedded to Islamic orthodoxy and continued the Samanid tradition of promoting the arts and learning. Samarkand and Bukhara emerged as the most important urban centers of the medieval world where study in astronomy and mathematics was encouraged and poetry and art received royal support. But above all, it was in their sponsorship of monumental architecture where the Timurid rulers excelled. Awe-inspiring monuments with tile work in dazzling green, blue and turquoise rose from the Afghan and Central Asian deserts and these rich urban centers became the models for cities throughout the Middle East. Brilliant regional variants sprang up throughout Afghanistan, Persia and Iraq. However, there were serious obstacles to the import of this new and brilliant architectural style into India.
As self-conscious outsiders, and with a rather tenuous hold on power in a largely non-Islamic land, it was probably difficult for India's Islamic invaders to commission monuments that could have matched the power and grandeur of the monuments in lands where Islam had triumphed completely and concerns of legitimacy had been adequately settled. The Lodhis and the early Mughals could only bring a modest and rather restrained version of the Central Asian style to India.
In Multan, Ucch Sharif, and Dera Ghazi Khan (all in Western Punjab) where a majority of the population had been converted to Islam, tombs built in honour of Sufi saints displayed an expressive originality even as they imbibed influences from Central Asia. But beyond Punjab, the impact was fairly limited, and some of the greatest Islamic monuments of the sub-continent show little if any trace of foreign influence.
The Sultans of Bengal and Gujarat, the Sharqi kings and Sher Shah Suri - all commissioned monuments that were virtually unlike any seen outside the subcontinent. The exquisitely chiseled reliefs in the 14th C Jama Masjid in Pandua (one of the old capitals of the Bengal Sultanate) display a kinship with the carved reliefs of the 13th C Kakathiya monuments of Warangal. Other mosques of the Pandua/Gaur region skilfully recycled material from Hindu and Buddhist temples, creating a uniquely lyrical and expressive Bengali Islamic style. Like the monuments of Bukhara, some of these mosques and gateways were decorated with colored tiles, but the construction techniques and colors were quite original. Many of the tiles were multi-colored and incorporated motifs considered important and auspicious in the Indian tradition.
In Ahmedabad and Champaner, symbolic motifs that had been in use for centuries in Jain and Hindu monuments were employed with abandon and became the very focus of both the internal and external decorative space of the typical mosque or tomb. The Chakra, the Padma, the Purnakalasa, the Kalpavriksha, the Kalpalata and the Jain 'lamp of knowledge' became vital centerpieces of the monuments of the Gujarat Sultanate.
Although geometrical decoration is a common feature of all Islamic architecture, the Indian Jaali developed some original features by combining motifs considered auspicious in the Hindu tradition with arabesques and geometrical designs. Lace like Jaalis distinguish the Sharqi monuments of Jaunpur and the Chunar monuments commissioned by Sher Shah Suri.
In the Deccan, architectural forms were sometimes inspired by nature. The Hyderabad monuments stand out for their use of pineapple-like domes and minarets, and columns modelled on palm trees. In many ways, these monuments are more interesting than the more renowned Mughal monuments. While the best of the Mughal monuments stand out for their balance of form, technical virtuosity and the luxuriant use of marble, semi-precious stones and gilt - critics find some Mughal architecture to be excessively formal, and a bit too reliant on architectural clichés.
Nevertheless, the Mughal era monuments of Punjab stand out in some ways. In Nakoddar (near Jullundhur) there are two tombs with brilliant polychrome decorations, unusual not only for their tile-work but also because they were dedicated to a scholar and a court musician, not royal personages. One, (also known as the Baghdadi owing to it's imitation of a style popularized in Baghdad) effectively employs geometric arabesques in yellow, green and blue tile set off against a brick background, while the other makes liberal use of the Purnakalasa motif , but with an ingenious innovation: the Purnakalasa motif appears in a rainbow of colored tiles. To the uninformed this may appear as a Persian transplant since floral motifs were also used in Persian architecture, but the Purnakalasa motif had come into frequent use during the reign of Akbar (before floral motifs came to be widely employed in the Persian tombs) and the Nakoddar tomb was more likely a natural evolution of the Mughal style popularized by Akbar. Later tombs in Lahore appear to effectively replicate this style.
However, Mughal architecture took a on decisively conservative tone during the reign of Aurangzeb. With the exception of the Qutab Shahis who turned Hyderabad into a grand and glorious city in the 17th C, and the Awadh nawabs who made Lucknow famous in the 18th-19th C, the last phase of the Islamic chapter in India gradually faded into oblivion.
This was in stark contrast to trends in Persia, where the Safavids continued to build on the achievements of the 16th C until well into the 17th and 18th C when the Safavid capital of Isfahan acquired the reputation of being one of the world's most handsome cities. Whereas Aurangzeb's reign in the subcontinent was marred by tremendous political strife and social upheaval, Safavid Iran enjoyed relative peace and prosperity, causing India's Persian/Urdu-speaking intellectuals and cultural elite to look to Persia for cultural affirmation and inspiration.
In Sanchi, it is useful to note that the construction of the Toranas involved the voluntary labor and contributions of much of the citizenry. Voluntary participation in the construction and maintenance of temples in South India and in the Deccan region has also been recorded and quite likely occurred throughout India.
Yet, it would be an error to think that popular influences on Indian architecture were completely extinguished. In the Gangetic plain, folk influences continued to play a vital role in the decor of Havelis and village homes; traditions like Rangoli also continued. In the regional courts, folk influences played an important role not only in the fine arts, but also in royal furniture and architectural decor. Folk influences also found their way in some of the smaller mosques and Sufi shrines which were painted with floral motifs in folkish style.
The change in ethos was reflected most in prominent urban landmarks, in the architecture of city gateways and inns for the nobility, and in the design of royal mosques and tombs. But, it would be incorrect to consider India's Islamic architecture as an entirely foreign implant as some art historians (both in the West and in India) are inclined to do. As we shall see, traditional Indian tastes and influences played an important role in shaping the most vibrant monuments commissioned by India's Islamic rulers.
Some art historians have routinely treated Indian art and architecture of the Islamic period as a regional derivative of Persian art and architecture - almost a poor cousin of the grand Persian Islamic tradition. Western biases and an admiration of all things Persian amongst sections of the Urdu speaking Indian intelligentsia have combined to spread the myth that all great Islamic art originated in Persia and the quality of art and architecture sponsored by India's Islamic rulers must be judged by how closely it came to meeting Persian ideals. That many of India's Islamic rulers employed Persian artists in their ateliers and Persian poets and writers found favor in the royal courts cannot be denied. But this obsession with connecting all things Islamic in India to Persia has not only led to an extremely selective and distorted analysis of the Islamic legacy in India, it has been based on a rather superficial examination of the Islamic legacy. Not only have art historians often failed to distinguish between what came from Persia from elsewhere, such as Afghanistan, Iraq or Central Asia - it has led to the virtual neglect of those aspects of the Islamic legacy in India where the predominant influences have been almost entirely from within the subcontinent. (Art historians have also failed to investigate the possibility of Indian influences impacting Persian tastes and sensibilities as was quite likely during the reigns of Jehangir and Shah Jehan).
Many art historians who attempt to analyze "Islamic" art in India seem to forget that the Islamic faith was born in a rather barren land without a history or tradition of support for the fine arts. (Although some argue that the Arabian peninsula had a rich tradition of terra-cotta sculpture that vanished with the iconoclastic ascent of Islam.) In any case, in terms of architecture, prior to the ascendance of Islam in the Middle East, one could speak of monumental Egyptian, Persian or Babylonian architecture, but certainly not Meccan architecture. As Islam spread, it was obliged to borrow and adapt from the older traditions that already existed in the lands it conquered. For instance, the Islamic monuments of Syria and Palestine have a remarkable resemblance to Byzantine architecture of earlier centuries with the important exception that all portraiture is avoided. Although vegetal motifs are employed with exuberance in the 7th-8th C Umayyad architecture in Syria and Palestine, later Islamic architecture, especially from Central Asia relied almost exclusively on abstract figuration.
But since sculptural decoration and representation of animals and nature played such a significant role in the architecture of pre-Islamic India - the advent of Islam (at least initially) led to mere imitation of forms borrowed from Central Asia. What seemed fresh and original in Bukhara during the Samanid reign (9-10th C) became dull, laborious and out of place when transplanted into Indian soil. With the exception of a few monuments that make rather effective use of decorative columns and motifs from earlier Jain monuments as in Ajmer or the Qutb area in Delhi - early Islamic architecture in India is singularly bland and uninteresting. Much of it is starkly austere and coldly aloof from the more lively traditions of the subcontinent. It is only after the 13th century when a bit of whimsy and ornamental fancy begins to enliven some of India's Islamic monuments (as in Chanderi). But this influence comes from Turkey, not Persia!
Outside India proper, architecture in the Islamic courts continues to make progress, culminating in the the construction of the overwhelmingly grand monuments of the Timurids in Herat, Samarkand and Bukhara (14th-15th C and onwards). Although the Timurids wreaked considerable havoc on their immediate neighbours and raided and plundered lands as far West as in Eastern Europe, the Timurids were not wedded to Islamic orthodoxy and continued the Samanid tradition of promoting the arts and learning. Samarkand and Bukhara emerged as the most important urban centers of the medieval world where study in astronomy and mathematics was encouraged and poetry and art received royal support. But above all, it was in their sponsorship of monumental architecture where the Timurid rulers excelled. Awe-inspiring monuments with tile work in dazzling green, blue and turquoise rose from the Afghan and Central Asian deserts and these rich urban centers became the models for cities throughout the Middle East. Brilliant regional variants sprang up throughout Afghanistan, Persia and Iraq. However, there were serious obstacles to the import of this new and brilliant architectural style into India.
As self-conscious outsiders, and with a rather tenuous hold on power in a largely non-Islamic land, it was probably difficult for India's Islamic invaders to commission monuments that could have matched the power and grandeur of the monuments in lands where Islam had triumphed completely and concerns of legitimacy had been adequately settled. The Lodhis and the early Mughals could only bring a modest and rather restrained version of the Central Asian style to India.
In Multan, Ucch Sharif, and Dera Ghazi Khan (all in Western Punjab) where a majority of the population had been converted to Islam, tombs built in honour of Sufi saints displayed an expressive originality even as they imbibed influences from Central Asia. But beyond Punjab, the impact was fairly limited, and some of the greatest Islamic monuments of the sub-continent show little if any trace of foreign influence.
The Sultans of Bengal and Gujarat, the Sharqi kings and Sher Shah Suri - all commissioned monuments that were virtually unlike any seen outside the subcontinent. The exquisitely chiseled reliefs in the 14th C Jama Masjid in Pandua (one of the old capitals of the Bengal Sultanate) display a kinship with the carved reliefs of the 13th C Kakathiya monuments of Warangal. Other mosques of the Pandua/Gaur region skilfully recycled material from Hindu and Buddhist temples, creating a uniquely lyrical and expressive Bengali Islamic style. Like the monuments of Bukhara, some of these mosques and gateways were decorated with colored tiles, but the construction techniques and colors were quite original. Many of the tiles were multi-colored and incorporated motifs considered important and auspicious in the Indian tradition.
In Ahmedabad and Champaner, symbolic motifs that had been in use for centuries in Jain and Hindu monuments were employed with abandon and became the very focus of both the internal and external decorative space of the typical mosque or tomb. The Chakra, the Padma, the Purnakalasa, the Kalpavriksha, the Kalpalata and the Jain 'lamp of knowledge' became vital centerpieces of the monuments of the Gujarat Sultanate.
Although geometrical decoration is a common feature of all Islamic architecture, the Indian Jaali developed some original features by combining motifs considered auspicious in the Hindu tradition with arabesques and geometrical designs. Lace like Jaalis distinguish the Sharqi monuments of Jaunpur and the Chunar monuments commissioned by Sher Shah Suri.
In the Deccan, architectural forms were sometimes inspired by nature. The Hyderabad monuments stand out for their use of pineapple-like domes and minarets, and columns modelled on palm trees. In many ways, these monuments are more interesting than the more renowned Mughal monuments. While the best of the Mughal monuments stand out for their balance of form, technical virtuosity and the luxuriant use of marble, semi-precious stones and gilt - critics find some Mughal architecture to be excessively formal, and a bit too reliant on architectural clichés.
Nevertheless, the Mughal era monuments of Punjab stand out in some ways. In Nakoddar (near Jullundhur) there are two tombs with brilliant polychrome decorations, unusual not only for their tile-work but also because they were dedicated to a scholar and a court musician, not royal personages. One, (also known as the Baghdadi owing to it's imitation of a style popularized in Baghdad) effectively employs geometric arabesques in yellow, green and blue tile set off against a brick background, while the other makes liberal use of the Purnakalasa motif , but with an ingenious innovation: the Purnakalasa motif appears in a rainbow of colored tiles. To the uninformed this may appear as a Persian transplant since floral motifs were also used in Persian architecture, but the Purnakalasa motif had come into frequent use during the reign of Akbar (before floral motifs came to be widely employed in the Persian tombs) and the Nakoddar tomb was more likely a natural evolution of the Mughal style popularized by Akbar. Later tombs in Lahore appear to effectively replicate this style.
However, Mughal architecture took a on decisively conservative tone during the reign of Aurangzeb. With the exception of the Qutab Shahis who turned Hyderabad into a grand and glorious city in the 17th C, and the Awadh nawabs who made Lucknow famous in the 18th-19th C, the last phase of the Islamic chapter in India gradually faded into oblivion.
This was in stark contrast to trends in Persia, where the Safavids continued to build on the achievements of the 16th C until well into the 17th and 18th C when the Safavid capital of Isfahan acquired the reputation of being one of the world's most handsome cities. Whereas Aurangzeb's reign in the subcontinent was marred by tremendous political strife and social upheaval, Safavid Iran enjoyed relative peace and prosperity, causing India's Persian/Urdu-speaking intellectuals and cultural elite to look to Persia for cultural affirmation and inspiration.
Post Colonial India and its Architecture - I
Introduction
The post-independence generation saw an increasing number of architects from South Asia migrate to Europe and the United States for advanced studies. Some of these would later return, setting up practice and often evolving highly original styles of work, combining Western rationalism and architectural theory with vernacular tradition and an appreciation of the need to preserve and reinvent South Asia’s built heritage for a postcolonial age.
In the ranks of those who have contributed substantially to architectural practice and discourse in South Asia is Charles Correa. Born in 1930 of Goan origin, Correa studied at the University of Michigan, and then the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, before establishing a practice in Bombay. Over the span of a career starting in the early 1950s to the present day, Correa has evolved a distinctive style of his own and has been a chief actor or major participant in various influential projects that shape and give definition to postcolonial South Asian architecture.
A representative catalogue of his work displays an impressive vocabulary and technical virtuosity that he brings to his work, and is also a fair representation of the evolution of South Asian urban centres and the debate around them - from celebrating and valorising tradition and heritage, to the need for increasing housing, creating markets for the arts and leisure, and finally responses to the challenges that explosive urban growth creates.
Correa’s responses to these questions have been outstandingly innovative, displaying an impressive knowledge of tradition from various sources, an understanding of technique and, perhaps most importantly the power of symbol and myth as a factor in good architecture. Indeed, Correa’s buildings, in their clever semiotic appeal, seem often to be as much gestures to prevailing political ideology as intelligent responses to an architectural problem.
Representative Work
At the Gandhi Smarak Sangrahalaya, Ahmedabad (1958 – 63), Correa uses a network of interconnected open-to-sky spaces landscaped in different themes, to recreate the Gandhian ideal of a self-sufficient village community. The result is an elegant solution that is climatically sound and energy-efficient, uses low-cost material and finishes, and above all conveys some sense of the solemnity and dignity appropriate for an institution dedicated to Gandhi’s life and work.
Especially remarkable here is Correa’s use of natural light in conjunction with semi-open spaces to create tonal gradations in illumination and shadows. Correa acknowledges a strong debt to Le Corbusier, and this effect of the Frenchman’s influence is clearly visible here. The museum is solemn without being overbearing, is austere without appearing to make an effort to be so.
Continuing the same effort to interpret India’s vernacular architecture in a modern typology, the National Crafts Museum (1975-90) at Pragati Maidan, New Delhi, provides a forum to craftspeople nationwide to showcase their art – and the process of its creation! – to visitors, both resident and alien.
Its spaces massed together to recreate an Indian village, the Museum incorporates extensive use of vernacular material – stone, bamboo, brick, mud, thatch – and uses craftwork as both interior and exterior ornamentation. The result is once again a very impressive series of spaces that hold together as a unit, and display a high degree of functional efficiency. Correa demonstrates here a successful transition of the vernacular to the modern, as also how traditional architectural vocabulary need not be synonymous with ‘backward’.
It is in his native Goa that Correa demonstrates a flair for an elegant use of colour and contrast, combined with intelligent space planning. In the Kala Akademi, Panaji, (1973-83) a centre for the performing arts, and the Cidade de Goa (1978-82), a luxury hotel, he plays with a hierarchy of spaces and terraces to create a spectacle of sorts in itself – and at both these sites an illusion of space and spectators is created by paintings complementing the architecture. At the Kala Akademi especially, Mario Miranda creates a skilful impression of people already present in the theatre. The Cidade de Goa – ‘City of Goa’ in Portuguese – is planned as a microcosm of a traditional city – complete with pedestrian streets, open space and marketplaces.
Kala Akademi, Panaji. Interior View. The right side of this interior, including the human figures at bottom right, is actually a painting.
When it comes to monumental architecture, however, Correa has less success in blending the vernacular and the modern. The Jeevan Bharti (Life Insurance Corporation) (1975 – 86) headquarters at New Delhi towers over Connaught Place, its glass curtain walls reflecting the colonial-era buildings. Challenging and cocky, almost, in its aggressive use of sandstone cladding and the massive metal truss uniting its components, the Jeevan Bharti building disappoints in its details – the workmanship can be shoddy in parts, the fine elegance that characterises Correa’s smaller, earlier work is missing. This may be an inevitable consequence of success – lacking the time to devote to each project the attention it needs. For all this, the Jeevan Bharti building continues to be the object of debate and polemic, as much for its bold use of material as for the radical way in which it affects its urban surroundings.
The post-independence generation saw an increasing number of architects from South Asia migrate to Europe and the United States for advanced studies. Some of these would later return, setting up practice and often evolving highly original styles of work, combining Western rationalism and architectural theory with vernacular tradition and an appreciation of the need to preserve and reinvent South Asia’s built heritage for a postcolonial age.
In the ranks of those who have contributed substantially to architectural practice and discourse in South Asia is Charles Correa. Born in 1930 of Goan origin, Correa studied at the University of Michigan, and then the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, before establishing a practice in Bombay. Over the span of a career starting in the early 1950s to the present day, Correa has evolved a distinctive style of his own and has been a chief actor or major participant in various influential projects that shape and give definition to postcolonial South Asian architecture.
A representative catalogue of his work displays an impressive vocabulary and technical virtuosity that he brings to his work, and is also a fair representation of the evolution of South Asian urban centres and the debate around them - from celebrating and valorising tradition and heritage, to the need for increasing housing, creating markets for the arts and leisure, and finally responses to the challenges that explosive urban growth creates.
Correa’s responses to these questions have been outstandingly innovative, displaying an impressive knowledge of tradition from various sources, an understanding of technique and, perhaps most importantly the power of symbol and myth as a factor in good architecture. Indeed, Correa’s buildings, in their clever semiotic appeal, seem often to be as much gestures to prevailing political ideology as intelligent responses to an architectural problem.
Representative Work
At the Gandhi Smarak Sangrahalaya, Ahmedabad (1958 – 63), Correa uses a network of interconnected open-to-sky spaces landscaped in different themes, to recreate the Gandhian ideal of a self-sufficient village community. The result is an elegant solution that is climatically sound and energy-efficient, uses low-cost material and finishes, and above all conveys some sense of the solemnity and dignity appropriate for an institution dedicated to Gandhi’s life and work.
Especially remarkable here is Correa’s use of natural light in conjunction with semi-open spaces to create tonal gradations in illumination and shadows. Correa acknowledges a strong debt to Le Corbusier, and this effect of the Frenchman’s influence is clearly visible here. The museum is solemn without being overbearing, is austere without appearing to make an effort to be so.
Continuing the same effort to interpret India’s vernacular architecture in a modern typology, the National Crafts Museum (1975-90) at Pragati Maidan, New Delhi, provides a forum to craftspeople nationwide to showcase their art – and the process of its creation! – to visitors, both resident and alien.
Its spaces massed together to recreate an Indian village, the Museum incorporates extensive use of vernacular material – stone, bamboo, brick, mud, thatch – and uses craftwork as both interior and exterior ornamentation. The result is once again a very impressive series of spaces that hold together as a unit, and display a high degree of functional efficiency. Correa demonstrates here a successful transition of the vernacular to the modern, as also how traditional architectural vocabulary need not be synonymous with ‘backward’.
It is in his native Goa that Correa demonstrates a flair for an elegant use of colour and contrast, combined with intelligent space planning. In the Kala Akademi, Panaji, (1973-83) a centre for the performing arts, and the Cidade de Goa (1978-82), a luxury hotel, he plays with a hierarchy of spaces and terraces to create a spectacle of sorts in itself – and at both these sites an illusion of space and spectators is created by paintings complementing the architecture. At the Kala Akademi especially, Mario Miranda creates a skilful impression of people already present in the theatre. The Cidade de Goa – ‘City of Goa’ in Portuguese – is planned as a microcosm of a traditional city – complete with pedestrian streets, open space and marketplaces.
Kala Akademi, Panaji. Interior View. The right side of this interior, including the human figures at bottom right, is actually a painting.
When it comes to monumental architecture, however, Correa has less success in blending the vernacular and the modern. The Jeevan Bharti (Life Insurance Corporation) (1975 – 86) headquarters at New Delhi towers over Connaught Place, its glass curtain walls reflecting the colonial-era buildings. Challenging and cocky, almost, in its aggressive use of sandstone cladding and the massive metal truss uniting its components, the Jeevan Bharti building disappoints in its details – the workmanship can be shoddy in parts, the fine elegance that characterises Correa’s smaller, earlier work is missing. This may be an inevitable consequence of success – lacking the time to devote to each project the attention it needs. For all this, the Jeevan Bharti building continues to be the object of debate and polemic, as much for its bold use of material as for the radical way in which it affects its urban surroundings.
Post Colonial India and its Architecture - II
Among the many architects that worked in Le Corbusier’s office at 35, rue de Sèvres, Paris, in the heady 30s and 40s was a young man from India. Trained in an exacting, personalised and highly idiosyncratic tradition, Balkrishna Doshi retained traces of this influence when he returned to India to set up a practice in Ahmedabad, Gujarat. Over the decades he would fulfil many roles – architect, urbanist, traditionalist, and educator, and remains till today one of the most respected names in Indian architecture.
Doshi’s projects in India show a distinct personal and professional evolution, starting from early experiments in applying the lessons of Modern Architecture in an Indian context to increasing interest in South Asia’s vernacular tradition, myth and social diversity. Today Doshi’s practice spans many interests, integrating and incorporating research and building cells, as well as being closely linked to the Centre for Environmental Planning and Technology (CEPT), Ahmedabad.
His own office, Sangath, is composed of vaulted interior spaces linked both internally and externally by gentle changes in level. Here the landscape forms an integral part of the architecture, and Sangath rises up from the ground without actually appearing to leave it. The vaults resist and soften the tendency of the verticals, and anchor the form to the earth while reflecting, in a sense, the line of the sky. The whole composition is softened by landscape elements, welcome additions in an otherwise harsh Gujarat.
The Centre for Environment and Planning Technology (CEPT), incorporates in its four main departments what is still one of the most prestigious architecture and planning schools in the country. Its graduates are known as much for their high levels of commitment to architecture and its practice as their ability to diversify into other allied fields.
At CEPT Doshi creates four wings grouped around a central space. The buildings, in their brick and exposed concrete finishes, are simply finished and make no attempt to be pretentious. What is noticeable, however, is the attention to detail – detail that is surprising and effective in how a comparatively low-cost solution may bring results that are all out of proportion. One example is the creation of a gigantic concrete scale or ruler along the walls of the studios – a symbolic reminder of the essentiality of correct scale and proportion that good architecture demands.
Doshi’s projects in India show a distinct personal and professional evolution, starting from early experiments in applying the lessons of Modern Architecture in an Indian context to increasing interest in South Asia’s vernacular tradition, myth and social diversity. Today Doshi’s practice spans many interests, integrating and incorporating research and building cells, as well as being closely linked to the Centre for Environmental Planning and Technology (CEPT), Ahmedabad.
His own office, Sangath, is composed of vaulted interior spaces linked both internally and externally by gentle changes in level. Here the landscape forms an integral part of the architecture, and Sangath rises up from the ground without actually appearing to leave it. The vaults resist and soften the tendency of the verticals, and anchor the form to the earth while reflecting, in a sense, the line of the sky. The whole composition is softened by landscape elements, welcome additions in an otherwise harsh Gujarat.
The Centre for Environment and Planning Technology (CEPT), incorporates in its four main departments what is still one of the most prestigious architecture and planning schools in the country. Its graduates are known as much for their high levels of commitment to architecture and its practice as their ability to diversify into other allied fields.
At CEPT Doshi creates four wings grouped around a central space. The buildings, in their brick and exposed concrete finishes, are simply finished and make no attempt to be pretentious. What is noticeable, however, is the attention to detail – detail that is surprising and effective in how a comparatively low-cost solution may bring results that are all out of proportion. One example is the creation of a gigantic concrete scale or ruler along the walls of the studios – a symbolic reminder of the essentiality of correct scale and proportion that good architecture demands.
Post Colonial India and its Architecture - III
The Architecture of Socialism
With a few brief exceptions, post-independence Indian politics till the 1990s was dominated largely by the Congress party, each time with a representative of the Nehru-Gandhi family at the helm, who alone seemed to be able to guarantee a certain unity.
Principally backed by Nehru and his coterie of advisers, India with its five-year plans embarked on a socialist model of development that featured a top-heavy State with minimal delegation of power to the regions or to district-level representative bodies. This socialist-industrial model called for massive State-controlled investment in heavy industry and associated activities.
While this model of governance may possibly have been the only viable solution in a time when India was struggling to become a cohesive political unit, it was also subsequently criticised for encouraging and entrenching endemic corruption and propagating a multi-layered bureaucracy that continues to this day. The State, as the biggest actor in the country, controlled almost everything – including information flow, social development, and most importantly for our purposes, became also the biggest client for architectural and urban development projects. It is not surprising then that most significant large-scale construction from this era has been either directly sponsored by the government or by public corporations.
The Search for an Aesthetic
The Asian Games in 1982 provided a massive fillip to construction, especially in Delhi. The Pragati Maidan complex, built on the eve of the Games, provided a space for many innovative architectural experiments and cemented the careers of a whole generation of professionals. Built as an exhibition and entertainment space, Pragati Maidan continues to be one of the stellar attractions in Delhi. Within it, the Hall of Nations by Raj Rewal is a large column-free space that is characterised by its use of reinforced concrete in a structure that would normally be constructed of steel trusses, a decision influenced by the lack of expertise in steel construction as well as the prohibitive cost of steel at the time. While the use of concrete results in a massive structure that does have some brutal appeal, the quality of construction leaves something to be desired. For all that the building is one of the most imposing in Pragati Maidan and continues to host many high-quality exhibitions, both domestic and international.
Also constructed for the Games are a series of stadia, the most prominent being the Indraprastha Indoor Stadium by Sharat Das and the Talkatora stadium by Satish Grover. The Indraprastha Stadium is an imposing structure with bearing walls of concrete and roofing of steel trusses, marked by its rapid construction with movable shuttering on the bearing columns ensuring continuous activity on the site. It unfortunately suffers from a lack of maintenance, and the use of plastic covering on its roof on rainy days is sometimes visible.
For athletes visiting the capital, large-scale temporary housing was required. Raj Rewal designed for this purpose the Asiad Games Village, a cluster of interlocking housing units that takes its formal inspiration from the streetscape and scale of towns in Rajasthan, particularly Jaisalmer. Rewal claims to have used these spatial references to create a series of courts and ‘streets’ through the complex and even to use finishes and material that correspond to their original inspiration.
Today the Games Village, or Khelgaon as it also called, houses commercial and office space, exhibition areas, as well as nightspots that are known as much for their fine cuisine as for their easygoing urban setting.
With a few brief exceptions, post-independence Indian politics till the 1990s was dominated largely by the Congress party, each time with a representative of the Nehru-Gandhi family at the helm, who alone seemed to be able to guarantee a certain unity.
Principally backed by Nehru and his coterie of advisers, India with its five-year plans embarked on a socialist model of development that featured a top-heavy State with minimal delegation of power to the regions or to district-level representative bodies. This socialist-industrial model called for massive State-controlled investment in heavy industry and associated activities.
While this model of governance may possibly have been the only viable solution in a time when India was struggling to become a cohesive political unit, it was also subsequently criticised for encouraging and entrenching endemic corruption and propagating a multi-layered bureaucracy that continues to this day. The State, as the biggest actor in the country, controlled almost everything – including information flow, social development, and most importantly for our purposes, became also the biggest client for architectural and urban development projects. It is not surprising then that most significant large-scale construction from this era has been either directly sponsored by the government or by public corporations.
The Search for an Aesthetic
The Asian Games in 1982 provided a massive fillip to construction, especially in Delhi. The Pragati Maidan complex, built on the eve of the Games, provided a space for many innovative architectural experiments and cemented the careers of a whole generation of professionals. Built as an exhibition and entertainment space, Pragati Maidan continues to be one of the stellar attractions in Delhi. Within it, the Hall of Nations by Raj Rewal is a large column-free space that is characterised by its use of reinforced concrete in a structure that would normally be constructed of steel trusses, a decision influenced by the lack of expertise in steel construction as well as the prohibitive cost of steel at the time. While the use of concrete results in a massive structure that does have some brutal appeal, the quality of construction leaves something to be desired. For all that the building is one of the most imposing in Pragati Maidan and continues to host many high-quality exhibitions, both domestic and international.
Also constructed for the Games are a series of stadia, the most prominent being the Indraprastha Indoor Stadium by Sharat Das and the Talkatora stadium by Satish Grover. The Indraprastha Stadium is an imposing structure with bearing walls of concrete and roofing of steel trusses, marked by its rapid construction with movable shuttering on the bearing columns ensuring continuous activity on the site. It unfortunately suffers from a lack of maintenance, and the use of plastic covering on its roof on rainy days is sometimes visible.
For athletes visiting the capital, large-scale temporary housing was required. Raj Rewal designed for this purpose the Asiad Games Village, a cluster of interlocking housing units that takes its formal inspiration from the streetscape and scale of towns in Rajasthan, particularly Jaisalmer. Rewal claims to have used these spatial references to create a series of courts and ‘streets’ through the complex and even to use finishes and material that correspond to their original inspiration.
Today the Games Village, or Khelgaon as it also called, houses commercial and office space, exhibition areas, as well as nightspots that are known as much for their fine cuisine as for their easygoing urban setting.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Indian Architecture
One of the most enduring achievements of Indian civilization is undoubtedly its architecture. Indian architecture, which has evolved through centuries, is the result of socio-economic and geographical conditions. Different types of Indian architectural styles include a mass of expressions over space and time, transformed by the forces of history considered unique to India. As a result of vast diversities, a vast range of architectural specimens have evolved, retaining a certain amount of continuity across history.
Indian architecture, belonging to different periods of history, bears the stamp of respective periods. Though the cities of Indus Valley provide substantial evidence of extensive town planning, the beginnings of Indian architecture can be traced back to the advent of Buddhism in India. It was in this period that a large number of magnificent buildings came up. Some of the highlights of Buddhist art and architecture are the Great Stupa at Sanchi and the rock-cut caves at Ajanta.
With the establishment of Hindu kingdoms in South India, the south Indian school of architecture began to flourish. The most notable achievements of the Pallava rulers were the rock-cut temples of Mahabalipuram and the temples of Kanchipuram. The Chola, Hoyasala and Vijayanagar rulers also did remarkable job in the field of architecture. The temples at Thanjavur, Belur and Halebid bear testimony to the architectural excellence of the South Indian rulers.
In north India, there developed a new a different style of architecture. This was called as the Nagara style architecture. In central India, the Chandela rulers built a magnificent temple complex at Khajuraho. With the coming of the Muslim rulers, there developed a new architectural style in India- the Indo-Islamic architecture. The Indo-Islamic style was neither strictly Islamic nor strictly Hindu. The architecture of the medieval period can be divided into two main categories. They are the Delhi or the Imperial Style and the Mughal Architecture.
It was followed by a new style of architecture that developed as a result of colonization of India. This style of architecture came to be called as Indo-Saracenic. The Indo-Saracenic architecture combined the features of Hindu, Islamic and western elements. The colonial architecture exhibited itself through institutional, civic and utilitarian buildings such as post offices, railway stations, rest houses and government buildings.
Indian architecture, belonging to different periods of history, bears the stamp of respective periods. Though the cities of Indus Valley provide substantial evidence of extensive town planning, the beginnings of Indian architecture can be traced back to the advent of Buddhism in India. It was in this period that a large number of magnificent buildings came up. Some of the highlights of Buddhist art and architecture are the Great Stupa at Sanchi and the rock-cut caves at Ajanta.
With the establishment of Hindu kingdoms in South India, the south Indian school of architecture began to flourish. The most notable achievements of the Pallava rulers were the rock-cut temples of Mahabalipuram and the temples of Kanchipuram. The Chola, Hoyasala and Vijayanagar rulers also did remarkable job in the field of architecture. The temples at Thanjavur, Belur and Halebid bear testimony to the architectural excellence of the South Indian rulers.
In north India, there developed a new a different style of architecture. This was called as the Nagara style architecture. In central India, the Chandela rulers built a magnificent temple complex at Khajuraho. With the coming of the Muslim rulers, there developed a new architectural style in India- the Indo-Islamic architecture. The Indo-Islamic style was neither strictly Islamic nor strictly Hindu. The architecture of the medieval period can be divided into two main categories. They are the Delhi or the Imperial Style and the Mughal Architecture.
It was followed by a new style of architecture that developed as a result of colonization of India. This style of architecture came to be called as Indo-Saracenic. The Indo-Saracenic architecture combined the features of Hindu, Islamic and western elements. The colonial architecture exhibited itself through institutional, civic and utilitarian buildings such as post offices, railway stations, rest houses and government buildings.
Indo-Islamic Architecture
The medieval period saw great developments in the field of architecture. With the coming of Muslims to India, many new features came to be introduced in buildings. The development of Muslim Style of Architecture of this period can be called the Indo-Islamic Architecture or the Indian Architecture influenced by Islamic Art. The Indo-Islamic style was neither strictly Islamic nor strictly Hindu. The architecture of the medieval period can be divided into two main categories. They are the Delhi or the Imperial Style and the Mughal Architecture. The Imperial Style developed under the patronage of the Sultans of Delhi. The Mughal Architecture was a blend of the Islamic Architecture of Central Asia and the Hindu Architecture of India.
The Indo-Islamic style provided spaciousness, massiveness and breadth to the Hindu architecture. In almost all the prominent buildings, the arch, Minar and dome began to be used and the mosque or Masjid became a part of the landscape. The chief means of decoration was surface decoration through the use of geometry, arabesque and calligraphy. The Muslims borrowed the design of kalash on the top of the Hindu temple by placing a dome on the top of their buildings.
The most important symbol of Indo-Islamic architecture in India is the tomb or the mausoleum which evolved from the basic cube and hemisphere of the early phase into a more detailed form during the Mughal period. In the Mughal period multiple chambers were made and tombs were set in gardens, known as the Char-Bagh. The tomb chamber houses the cenotaph below which is the grave. The most famous example of tomb in India is the Taj Mahal.
The Mughal Architecture occupies a significant place in the history of Indian Architecture. The Mughal architecture developed with the efforts of Akbar. Akbar cleverly incorporated foreign influences into indigenous style. Some of the basic features of the Mughal Architecture are the round domes, high minarets, mehrabs, pillars, open courtyards etc. A notable feature of the Mughal architecture was the use of red sandstone. It is interesting to note that red sandstone was used for construction of huge buildings and forts. However red sandstone was replaced with white marbles replaced it during the later period when the stress was more on beautifying of the buildings with the use of colored designs, precious and semi-precious stones, gold and silver waters and minute carvings.
The outstanding examples of Indo-Islamic architecture are the Qutub Minar, Alai Darwaza, Quwwat-ul-Islam mosque, Tughlaqabad Fort, Fatehpur Sikri, Agra Fort, Taj Mahal, Red Fort Delhi etc.
The Indo-Islamic style provided spaciousness, massiveness and breadth to the Hindu architecture. In almost all the prominent buildings, the arch, Minar and dome began to be used and the mosque or Masjid became a part of the landscape. The chief means of decoration was surface decoration through the use of geometry, arabesque and calligraphy. The Muslims borrowed the design of kalash on the top of the Hindu temple by placing a dome on the top of their buildings.
The most important symbol of Indo-Islamic architecture in India is the tomb or the mausoleum which evolved from the basic cube and hemisphere of the early phase into a more detailed form during the Mughal period. In the Mughal period multiple chambers were made and tombs were set in gardens, known as the Char-Bagh. The tomb chamber houses the cenotaph below which is the grave. The most famous example of tomb in India is the Taj Mahal.
The Mughal Architecture occupies a significant place in the history of Indian Architecture. The Mughal architecture developed with the efforts of Akbar. Akbar cleverly incorporated foreign influences into indigenous style. Some of the basic features of the Mughal Architecture are the round domes, high minarets, mehrabs, pillars, open courtyards etc. A notable feature of the Mughal architecture was the use of red sandstone. It is interesting to note that red sandstone was used for construction of huge buildings and forts. However red sandstone was replaced with white marbles replaced it during the later period when the stress was more on beautifying of the buildings with the use of colored designs, precious and semi-precious stones, gold and silver waters and minute carvings.
The outstanding examples of Indo-Islamic architecture are the Qutub Minar, Alai Darwaza, Quwwat-ul-Islam mosque, Tughlaqabad Fort, Fatehpur Sikri, Agra Fort, Taj Mahal, Red Fort Delhi etc.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
