We live in a country, Finland, famed for its modern as well as traditional architecture. It is also in harmony with nature.
Architects, as the late Alvar Aalto, changed the face of architecture not only in Finland. I remember him when he created the all plastic house in the sixties!over the last century.
Yesterday, I read an article about how a Middle East country is planning an undersea tunnel to India with a length of 1500 km.
But where are they heading?
Then I came across this article by an old friend from my alma mater who is an architect. Ramu Katakam was a close friend of my cousin, Mammen Mathew.
Our history goes back over 50 years,
When I stood for the President of the St. Stephen’s College residents in 1961, it was an audacious move as no 2nd year student had ever gone forward with such an ambition.
My cousin, who was then in the first year, headed my campaign rounding up all possible votes. He knew that I had a vision for the future and the tenacity to see it through.
However, he ran into a road block with his good friend, Ramu Katakam, who intended to vote for someone else!
Till today, the bone of contention between these two dear friends has been the vote he did not give me.
Both these characters are fantastic, each in his own way, as after finishing college, the two of them hitch-hiked ftom India to London where I was studying.
Mammen went into journalism and today heads the Malayala Manorama newspaper and its over 40 major publications, almost all leading in their spheres. (The WEEK, Balarama for children, Vanitha for ladies in Malayalam and Hindi, Manorama Weekly in Malayalam, Manorama Directory in English, Malayalam, Tamil, Bengali and Hindi).
Ramu went to Cambridge and specialised in architecture.
This article by Ramu, featured below, appeared in The Wire.
I, with Abraham Thomas, who was Managing Director of the building group Southern Investments, and author of a book "The Affluent Machine" authored the concept of rural urbanisation in I976, which is still several steps ahead of the Smart City concept which is heralded as future of India.
I will blog our article "Rural Urbanisation" shortly, but I think it is important to go through the critical views of Ramu.
"Why Is Modern Indian Architecture So Banal and the Cities So Unlivable?
The present period will be seen centuries later as piles of steel and shards of glass.
By
Representative image. Photo: Sriharsha/Flickr CC BY SA 2.0
A recent article in The Wire titled ‘Why Conserving Modern Architecture Has Become Nearly Impossible’ raised several questions that have been worrying architects, especially after the series of demolitions and planned demolitions of post-independence buildings.
The country is emerging from a long stretch of European colonisation and is finding its feet amongst the arts and architecture of the modern age. But European influence still plays a role in this quest for what is Indian and what is mere copy. It has been difficult for Indian architects to create a style that adequately presents a rising civilisation to the rest of the world – and to its own denizens.
A country that has produced so many beautiful buildings over the centuries is now having to formulate its identity and design of buildings. Take the Hall of Nations, designed by Raj Rewal and built in the 1970s to provide a space for international exhibitions in the heart of Delhi. Before it was demolished by this government, it was arguably one of the finest works of architecture in the post-Independence era. It represented a new approach and borrowed nothing from Bauhaus ideologies or from Le Corbusier’s enormous influence. The architect found a way to build a unique structure that was modern and monumental.
The Hall of Nations. Credit: The Wire
Unfortunately, our administrators felt it occupied a very valuable amount of real estate and they had no understanding of its historic value and proceeded to tear it down. By this logic, one could argue that the Purana Qila (‘Old Fort’) – built by Humayun in the 16th century, which lies next to Pragati Maidan where the exhibition grounds are located and also occupies valuable land in the city centre – should be demolished too. Luckily, the fort is under the protection of the Preservation of Ancient Monuments Act, 1958. Indian architects are now suggesting that a new act be brought in to protect architectural buildings of significance, regardless of age.
When the British decided to shift their Capital to Delhi from Kolkata, they chose a large area adjacent to Shahjanabad, the capital created by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan. They designed and built an imperial city that was to last a thousand years (something we have heard before and since). But after just 25 years, they had to abandon the capital.
Their New Delhi was created as a set of imposing buildings that exhibited the might of the British Empire. The present Rashtrapati Bhavan was originally the residence of the Viceroy, who was the representative of the King of England. The North and South Blocks, while architectural masterpieces of colonial design, were intended to rule India, the ‘Jewel in their Crown’.
All Union governments of independent India have been hypnotised by these imperial buildings. The president of India lives in the erstwhile Viceregal Lodge and the main ministries of home, defence, finance and external affairs are ensconced in the Secretariat.
Ministers sit in their grand teak-panelled offices and members of the Indian civil services continue to enjoy their pre-Independence pomp and glory. The present regime has tried to bring about change and has built new buildings along the main vista that was once called Rajpath, later Janpath, or ‘people’s way’ and now Kartavyapath. All of these are signifiers of an India that continues to be ruled rather than governed.
Forecourt of Rashtrapati Bhavan. Photo: Rashtrapati Bhavan, GODL-India
A prescient Gandhi saw the impact these imperial buildings would have on those in power and, after Independence, pleaded with the state to create another capital that would leave the British legacy behind. It would have been simple to acquire land at that time but instead, we now have the satellite towns of Noida and Gurugram which are really vast suburbs of concrete, steel and glass. A faceless set of buildings that appears in rings of roads around the capital of Delhi housing millions of residents.
Of course, it is not as if Indian governments were the only ones seduced by grand buildings: the new rulers of Russia used the Kremlin palaces (the old residences of the Czars) as their headquarters and the Chinese used the palaces of the Forbidden City (residences of Emperors for several centuries) as the staging post for their May Day parades.
Architecture plays a significant role in the manner cities are planned and the remains of a civilisation are largely seen through the buildings that are left behind. Architects are told not to hark back to history but how is it possible to ignore Nalanda, Sanchi and Ellora – all treasures of design created by previous civilisations? Today we are reduced to banal edifices of square and round skyscrapers that represent what a large number of people term prosperity and development. Tagore’s vision of creating a recognisably distinct Indian civilization is fast disappearing as the subcontinent’s buildings try to replicate the tiny principalities of Dubai and Singapore. However, these replicas do not match the quality or scale of the modern age ‘wonders’ seen in the global cities. Will our present civilisation be seen a few centuries from now as piles of twisted metal and shards of glass?
None of India’s cities offers a solution for the modern city. They are all increasingly becoming unlivable, making the privileged few seek second homes in Goa, in hill stations or abroad. A chance to see real change was available when a capital was envisaged for the residual Andhra Pradesh state. It was to be called Amaravati, after the Buddhist capital that was the centre of the old kingdoms of this area. (Few know that people in the land that is now Andhra Pradesh followed the Buddhist faith for 800 years.) However, after several attempts, the present state government chose to make three capital regions and power was decentralised – a smart decision given the length of the state. But these different capitals just had more rings of suburbs where concrete and glass thrive.
All this sounds very bleak and indeed it is. The future of Indian architecture and its habitat is represented by a few grand villas in Goa and some oversized air-conditioned flats in Mumbai and Delhi. It is therefore important for architects to attempt to bring cityscapes together and create new designs that are community-driven. Colaba, a suburb of Mumbai, is a classic example of a settlement where the rich and poor mingle and live complete lives. It is a microcosm of the mighty ‘maximum city’ and is a place where everything is available and some protection is offered to heritage buildings. Re-use of buildings is being done and an excellent example is the cafe built inside a former godown which was gutted and the exterior kept intact. Another well-known renovation is an ice factory in Ballard Estate that has been converted into a modern gallery and exhibition space for events.
Amongst the other major cities of India, Mylapore within the city of Chennai is a good example that has coexisted since the inception of the city. Many British residents made this area into their homes and while it is in good condition can be well restored for the reuse of a cityscape.
The old city of Hyderabad with the Charminar as its focus is also an independent settlement within the megapolis of the modern capital and is quite independent of the chaos of modern Hyderabad. Due to its antiquity, the inhabitants live and work on an ‘island’ with their own economy. Many other cities in India have these qualities – with Jodhpur, Lucknow and Kolkata among the largest.
Charminar. Photo: Vandana And Vaibhav/ Wikimedia Commons/ CC BY-SA 4.0.
This may not be perfectly pleasing for aspiring architects who want to design magnificent edifices but they may have to start making buildings that are more on a human scale. If new cities are to be made (and several are needed to cope with increasing numbers), then the planning will have to be on a gigantic scale. The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia has embarked on building a 170-km-long linear city called ‘The Line’. It is a revolutionary city that doesn’t look to the past, attempts to cater to the future, and has big names and big money undergirding it. There are several aspects to the project that raise questions but the attempt to think anew is to be recognised.
India’s wealth – and, more importantly, its population and its needs – will rise dramatically in the next decades and hence will have to consider something as spectacular and monumental as The Line City envisaged in the desert. The country has to decide whether it is going to pursue the limits of wealth which will sooner or later implode as the planet does not have the resources for this growth or follow a path that will allow the planet to survive the upheavals and lifestyles of the modern age.
Ramu Katakam is an architect."
One hopes that visionary architects will arrive on the Indian scene to make it possible that India is a liveable country. We are not so confident as was expressed in our last book "The Titanic Called India",
