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Visual anarchy?
Big, bold, brash seem to be the watchwords of today's builders,
who smash their concrete fists through once quiet neighbourhoods.
Architects find it difficult to innovate in increasingly cramped
spaces, observes GEETA DOCTOR.
CITIES WERE once celebrated because of their buildings. The
architect was said to belong to a noble profession. Whole
dynasties and historical periods were identified by their
architectural style. The Chola period, for instance, is known to
us chiefly on account of its splendid art and architecture. The
Roman architect, Palladio, has contributed the term "Palladian,"
which is synonymous with a perfectly proportioned classical ideal
of a building.
Compare this with what we have to face today. Architects are at
the cutting edge of the transformation that is taking place at
every street corner and market centre. They are literally cutting
up the architectural texture of Chennai and replacing it with
grotesque examples of modernistic whimsy. There are steel and
glass towers, with shiny reflecting surfaces on every street. The
most jarring combinations of colours are used. Green glass in the
case of one jewellery shop, with contrasting yellow panels, or
salmon pink at a well-known shopping centre, inset with bright
blue bathroom tiles. As though to add to the comic book effect,
there are green water tanks on the terrace, a wide bandage of
grey paint, like suspenders in front of the building and at
night, huge lozenges of tubelights that yawn brightly,
advertising the place. Or else there is the new craze for Post-
Modernism, that is to say, crazily cobbled architectural details
from every period of history that are rammed together without any
sense. The so called "award winning" monstrosity that tilts over
the horizon at Teynampet, looks as though it has been put
together during an earthquake. The walls have been rammed
together at sharp angles, a tiny cottage hangs over the top of
the building. No matter from where you look at it, the white and
blue building sticks out like a street urchin throwing a stone at
a glass fronted building, just to attract attention. Yet none of
this is quite so disturbing as the change that is taking place in
the silk and gold district at Panagal Park. Here, the
architectural anarchy has reached such a proportion that it
requires a separate paragraph to itself. Is this a symptom of our
multi-cultural society, or just another turn on the slow ride
into chaos? Is it time we made architects and town planners
accountable for the type of visual anarchy that they are now
inflicting upon us?
"It's not just us. It's the promoters", say the architects. "The
promoters and property developers are those who call the shots.
We architects are quite helpless. If we did not design according
to the current fashion, we could soon be out of business. Forget
being idealistic, that is for those who want to live in the
boondocks, mucking about with mud and cowdung. Here in the market
place, it's war and the public, the so called helpless citizens
of Chennai, are just as anxious for the kind of glass and steel
faced buildings that we design."
"It does not have to be like that", explains S. L. Chitale, the
most respected name in the architectural field today. His firm
boasts of three generations of architects. "Take the Jehangir Art
Gallery at Bombay (or Mumbai). When the architects Durga Bajpai
and Vanoo Bhuta were asked to design it in the early 50s, they
did it keeping in mind the character of the buildings that were
already in place. They knew that they could not compete with a
building like the Prince of Wales Museum, at the back. It was a
perfect building of its type. They did not try to compete with
it, or to ignore it altogether. They designed a building at a
lower height so that it would skirt round the property in such a
way that it would make its presence felt as a piece of functional
architecture. I would say that it is very functional. It serves
its purpose very well as an art gallery, or a number of
galleries, that has continued to attract a large number of people
over the years. "The gallery has a generous feeling of space,
built as it is over wide open areas supported on a framework of
RCC columns and beams, with an interesting use of Malad stone on
the exterior surface, to match the stone finishes of the earlier
buildings across the Kala Ghoda plaza. This harmonious
integration of buildings and public space has now become an
annual feature of the artistic and intellectual life in the City.
It integrates the performers and the public in a way that is
completely democratic and vital by allowing for this easy sharing
of different spaces, both public and personal."
"When you upgrade a building, or an area, it is very important to
look at the changing needs, the traffic patterns, the
communication systems and the functional planning of the place",
says Chitale, refusing to be pushed into admitting which are the
buildings that he admires in Chennai. "I think as a general rule,
a building should not jar. It should not stick out. There's
nothing wrong with a building like the Oberoi Hotels from the
design point of view, but when most of the buildings in that area
have seven or eight floors, how can you have one that is eighteen
floors high? This is what I mean when I say that it jars. I
remember when the LIC building came up on Mount Road I could not
believe that it had been designed in an East-West direction. You
don't have to be a Vaastu expert to say that it's wrong to have a
building in the tropics, designed to face the Sun both in the
morning and the evening. But this is something the architect
sitting in the West, would not have been able to understand at
that time. We have all the laws in place. We have all the
guidelines, but who follows them? I don't agree that the old
"form follows function" theory is out of date today. If you have
a British architect, he must be able to design following the
functional needs of the Indian environment, and vice versa. If I,
as an Indian, have to design a building in the UK, I must be
aware of their needs. It is a simple and yet very effective rule
of the thumb for the architect to follow."
Chitale has been waging a constant battle to bring about an
awareness in the safety aspects of a building, what he calls the
housekeeping. According to him, it is the responsibility of the
architect to not just design a building that follows
international safety norms, but that he or she should also insist
on there being a periodic up-gradation of the electrical fittings
and other safety aspects of a building. Every building should
have a regular system of maintenance against fire and other
hazards. Failing this, we have one of the most wasteful forms of
building maintenance, he says, dependent as the systems are, on a
catastrophe such as a building collapse, or fire, before anyone
takes any notice.
As compared to this humane view, the motto for today's builders
seems to be bigger, bolder, brasher. They smash their concrete
first through once quiet neighbourhoods, tearing up the trees,
ripping through the roots with incessant blows of a sledge hammer
and drive the stakes that will support the newly grown
conglomerations that can now house upto seven or eight thousand
people in one small area. Since the architects feel helpless to
innovate in these increasingly cramped spaces, they allow their
imagination to grow wild by their 'value additions' that is the
stuck-on devices that have now begun to sprout from the roof
tops. There is a whole thesis waiting to be done, by a new
generation of architecture students on the type of decorative
devices that architects employ to distinguish their buildings.
There are the hats and topi specialists. They place solar topis
at the corner of the terrace, or design a whole range of curved
and tiled roof-tops, like mushrooms, or worse, small slums on the
sky-line. There are steeples covered in blue tiles, like castles
in story books, there are Mangalore tiled roofs that cap the high
rise buildings and domes, cupolas and sharply pointed triangles
that suggest a 'house of cards' effect. Perhaps one of the worst
examples of this kind may be seen in the group of medium rise
apartments that stick out of the former Government estate on
Mount Road. They imitate in the most pathetic parody of the
former grandeur of the Rajaji Hall, the Palladian or Greek temple
effect, of the frontage of the old building.
The Greek style seems to be coming back into fashion. Not only
are there innumerable apartment buildings that sport the
trademark pillars and triangular pediments, but schools, office
buildings and jewellery shops that also try to get the Doric or
Corinthian pillar effect. This brings us to the Panagal Park
school of architecture. The buildings are designed to attract the
customers who want to splurge on the annual frenzy for gold,
diamonds, silver or silk sarees. The interiors are in the
choicest chocolate box style, smooth 'as' cream granite surfaces
gleam and twinkle in the midst of opulent glass chandeliers,
etched mirrors and marble accessories. Outside, it is the even
more garish 'mithai' box effect, all shiny frontages and gilded
signs. The exteriors are put together using false inlays of
tiles, glittering glass surfaces, ornamentations in plaster of
Paris that can include statues of nymphs and apsaras, massive
pillars that hold up traylike roofs and in one case, Doric
columns, a curving Kerala style roof, balconies in the Italian
manner that are still in the process of being plastered onto the
exterior of the building.
One explanation for this ornamental excess is that since most
people travel around in cars, or two wheelers, they need to have
their attention stimulated in these ways. When you have only a
couple of nano-seconds to stare at a building, all that matters
are the bare essentials, the outline, the colours, the frills,
the architectural shouts for attention. It is an assault on the
senses that defies reason and it's being done in the name of
architectural brilliance.
Notice, for instance, the affection that architects have for
windows and balconies. These come in all shapes and sizes, though
at the present time, a window in the shape of an inverted fan, or
scallop shell seems to be in vogue. If not windows, there are
Regency style balconies in wrought iron, lacy RCC grills that
flutter down the front and sides of a building and when all else
fails, painted sub-sections that turn the building into a vast
patch-work quilt.
Entrances too are given the full treatment. These are tubular or
cubist depending on the architects' whim and most of them these
days are faced with the most expensive varieties of stone,
granite or marble that the designer can find. It's facade
architecture at its most arrogant. It massages the ego of the
client at the expense of the ordinary citizen, who can only gaze
in wonder or horror, as the case may be, and walk on.
Architecture rarely happens in a vacuum. It is signal of the
culture that nurtures it. Looking around the streets of Chennai
provides a comic horror show of what our insensitivity to our
environment, the lack of training in the visual arts for large
segments of the public and the apathy of the political system can
lead to.
It is a sign of the disintegration within. As against this,
compare the tributes that were paid when F. W. Stevens, the
British architect, who designed the headquarters of the Bombay
Baroda and Central India Railway, near Churchgate, died.
As reported by Rahul Mehrotra and Sharada Dwivedi, in their
exquisitely produced volumes commemorating the Mumbai's
architectural heritage, the Times of India wrote, "But what
Bombay owes to him is not merely these noble monuments as they
stand, but the continuous lesson in art and beauty that their
presence along our streets inspires - that insensible education
of the public eye to the graceful form and fine proportion and
glowing perspective qualities that have an adorning and
harmonising influence on every nature above the level of the
clod." (From "Anchoring a City Line" The history of the Western
Suburban Railway and its headquarters in Bombay).
This is the ideal that we must try to aspire for, both as
citizens living in a City that is still in a dynamic phase of its
growth and as those who want more from our architects and
planners. We need buildings that inspire us to dream of a better
future, by instilling a sense of pride in our daily life, today.
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