Friday, December 01, 2017

Manjunath at SEA

You might not hear an engineer talk so poetically! Manjunath spoke of structures of banana leaves, branches, folding slabs, ornament, weaving, and expressing nature as forces. Interestingly, Manjunath has worked on projects that I have always (and we all have always) enjoyed as structures. He has worked with the architects we have been looking up to in India!

Here are some of his anecdotes from the lecture that keep you thinking of how beautifully structure can be thought about as life:

"Different forms of structures in nature should be used to create new languages."

"I like to express the forces...as jewellery, as delicate ornamentation of the building."

"The strain is always taken by the engineer, so I have shown it on the top."

"When we work with a good architect, the gift we give is always a nice 'detail'."

"Craft is beyond engineering."

"Gravity is the best adhesive [in structures]."

"Gravity is the hidden geometry of space. We have to learn from gravity and see what are the different forms it takes."

"If you are an engineer, you cannot craft."
(Meaning, if you have become a engineer merely by degree, you cannot craft. If you are not crafting, you are not engineering)

Nothing is more exciting than a lecture that brings a smile to your face and tickles your mind long after it's over. SEA City has had a good lecture after a really long time!

--
Unfortunately I have gotten so busy that there is no way I can write any longer posts...I have been learning, thinking and there is no more space to sit silently and write... nevertheless, perhaps the posts now on shall take a new turn?

Friday, October 20, 2017

Second Year Architectural Design 2017

I would begin to say that we culminated our Third Semester (2017) Architectural Design studio in quite a crescendo. All students had a reasonable amount of work in terms of drawings and models for fairly fleshed out schemes. Given that this was their first exercise in building-making, the final result was quite satisfying. The students seemed tired, but content - for they were able to see the promise in the work and realise their own potential. I have begun to believe that it is important for students to see well-finished final product - it note only gives them a sense of completion but also inspires them to evaluate themselves better, or even recalibrate their process strategies in subsequent projects.

If I was to however look at the studio from the pedagogic perspective (and not from the students' view), many other questions begin to emerge - a lot of which I keep aside which would otherwise interfere when conducting the studio. Recently, for example, Prasad asked the faculty at SEA to weigh the output of their modules against the objectives that were set for the individual studios. This question often gets (re)visited during the final reviews when you have to frame the module engagement to external jurors for a fair evaluation, or even reflect upon how successful the project was. Often, one realises that the objectives set for the studio did not really become the points of addressal for most design discussions with students. Rather, with varying intellectual and vocational potentials, the issues that we need to tackle for a given glass invariably have to be realigned.

With second year design modules at SEA, I have never felt a sense of meeting pedagogical expectations. The projects are often framed through objectives that are far too out of the reach of students to even engage at their level of understanding. In my opinion, they are forcefully placed in the realm of "city" and "institution". For example, our objective for the third semester Architectural Design is that to deal with the "type" and the "institution". To be sure, the concepts of "type" and "institution" can be intervened only once one has a clear understanding of what they mean, and how they operate. The idea of a "building type" or "diagram", we noted in our History/Theory module, can be approached in many ways - both formal and programmatic. Its explication can happen through multiple theoretical frames. In the third semester, just the second year of their architectural studies, students are still familiarising themselves to the variety of architectural examples across the world, studying how spaces have been folded in across history. They are also beginning to merely understand and attune themselves to theoretical frameworks through which one can approach the appreciation and designing of architectural forms. What should be the optimum expectation from a student of architecture during this stage?

In the present exercise, we realised that students were still working towards improving their skills of two and three dimensional representations. It is often argued that most architecture institutes lay overemphasis on skill, in the process of which they lose out on the exploratory inventiveness of students' own ways of seeing and thereby representing the world. this process, however, is fairly dialectical. I have to confess, that as architects teaching a design studio, the visual language we best understand is that of orthography - one which generates for us technical drawings of the visualisation of the building. When students don't fall in place with orthographic representations, a subversive aversion to discussion gets built up in the studio due to amplified miscommunications, and the focus shifts from teaching design to representation.

Most ideas about resolution, detail, articulation or structure actually belong to the realm of representation. Think about it - the obsession of alignments, following grids, maintaining order, or balancing rhythm all occur primarily in the visual space. In other words, much of these aspects that control the aesthetics of a building are the prime prerogative of the design studio. There is immense denial within architectural studio on the prerogative of aesthetics. When we are critiquing students on their work, we are often trying to bring their ideas into an aesthetic order. In the present studio, we hardly discussed with them the notion of type, or the institution. The discussion was always veered towards how the building could be composed, or ordered more correctly. Most of our design methods, thus, are processes to codify a certain aesthetic.

Often when teaching, you realise that the student is not even prepared to meet the first objective. So you beginning from the beginning. Further, teaching strategies change with every student depending upon the direction in which they need attention. In my observation, students arrive an the studio objective without necessarily engaging with the questions set out for them. They are not talking to the mentor on the terms of 'type' or 'institution', rather, often merely to be able to take the next step in their design process. Thus, students may only realise the objective when they are intellectually ready, and in their state of reflection. In the meanwhile, we simply follow the method of copying. This is a characteristic of "practice" - an apprenticeship model which isn't bad either. I true sense, Riyaz.

But then whom are these objectives really framed for? I think objectives are for teachers, not students. Prasad playfully poked to this response on our whatsapp conversation, "You mean that you will learn how to discern type?" In his rhetoric, one can reaffirm an age old observation: Teaching merely helps you clear your own notions about things. Objectives are framed so that we can test their validity and expound upon their potentials in experimenting ideas with the students. Further, objectives delineate the framework of one's feedback to students in the broader scheme of things. Once you find the student having understood the basics of a given process, you step up the difficulty level of your engagement, pushing them to think through their work in a differently plane of thought.

We had a great set of jurors for our final review: Sameep Padora, Quaid Doongerwala, Samira Rathod and Praveen Alva. I was accompanying the team of Quaid and Samira as they went along with the review, and we had some interesting pedagogic discussions over a few projects. Samira understands and values the architect's agency in crafting form, whereas Quaid was looking at the relevance of languages that different students dealt with in their design projects. One of the questions that we debated, for example was the invention versus discovery of form. I had to interrogate Samira's search for an unconventional form in projects that were conceived quite traditionally - those that focused on simple ordering and arrangement of space. I had to bring up the fact that often, there is a subversive denial of conventional form or structure in the validation of the "new". There's a strange affinity for currently for that which appears asymmetric and the absurd. In studying ancient buildings of architectural importance, or modern precedents, however, we are reminded about qualities of order and rhythm - moreso, their spatial invocations. These experiences are not free of their structural imbrications, and thus, are often employed through what we may now understand as "conventional". In our discussion, we clarified, that there is nothing wrong, thus, in bringing back the old - pejoratively understood as "copying". It is a matter of language, Quaid asserted - and how it can benefit the student's way of thinking through a building.

Our negative attitudes to evaluating processes as "copied" are a colonial legacy. It was the renaissance that emphasised upon the birth of the individual, to whom authorship was of utmost importance. The social and economic machinery of renaissance was centered acutely around the human - as an individual, which gradually led to the undervaluing of the guild. The introduction of the machine and assembly line completely destroyed any passage of knowledge through practice. In the eastern cultures though, copying has been the only way of learning. Take for example Chinese painting, which was only about repeating a process set by the master. The student iterates the painting as many times, over which, the subject under investigation itself undergoes transformation, resulting into a completely new masterpiece, a new original. In the same way, the knowledge of Indian Classical Music is passed on only in its rehearsal, or riyaz - iterating it time and again until one is able to resonate with a given tone. It is a skill honed only in practice, in copying, without any written notations.

I believe this second year studio turned out to be much like an arena of riyaz. I am not particularly sure how much students absorbed. What I am sure of, although, is that there was an induction of rigour, and its possibility. We left out the questions set out in the objectives. Perhaps, those will be taken up later when students have a method and space to reflect. It is in that time when the objective of the studio will be truly realised. Meanwhile, I still wonder if the objectives can be made integral to the evolution of the design process.















Aesthetics of Accumulation







































photographs of/from
JAK Printers, Byculla

Diwali

The smell of a lighting off wick, the camphor burning away, the jasmine incense, the sandalwood crushed with Kesar, the ghee burning Surma, the sweetness of savoury preparations, the flickering lamplights - fired or electric, the colours of Rangoli and flowers, the balcony lights, the shimmering coins, the red kumkum, the new books for prayers, the pattering crackers, the blooming flower pots, the sparkling sticks, the smoking wires, the constantly ringing telephone, the beeping WhatsApp messages, the endless forwards, the inventive Facebook statuses, the pleas to be quiet, the request to keep things unpolluted, the new clothes, the perfunctory rituals...


Another year of Diwali. 

Friday, October 06, 2017

Louise Despont Works

Louise Despont / The Invisible Fold
Published in ART India Magazine - Volume 21 Issue 3

note: The published version was edited and shortened due to issues of space. Here, the text is the original full version, followed by the published.

--
Louise Despont

The Invisible Fold



Columns for rates and transactions on ledger book registers become meta-grids for Louise Despont’s pencil colour drawings that are exhibited at Gallerie Isa, Mumbai, from the 10th of June to the 1st of September. Overlaying existing rules and records of the unthreaded spreads from old registers, Despont draws new grids to order her drawings. At a distance, the works seem to be guided by the symmetry of the book-fold itself. The imposing balance within the works, gently tweaked at places invite a comparison with Rorschach Inkblots that mirror their own halves. While klecksography (the art of making images with inkblots) allows a poetic exploration of the subconscious, Despont’s careful motifs refer to mythical diagrams through which the ancients imagined the structure of the universe.

The large surfaces created by joining several pages of the book come together like the tiles of a large mural. The overall scale and execution reminds you of the present day “working drawings” that architects prepare towards the final construction of a building on site. Despont’s meticulously detailed drawings alluding to iconographies of temple towers and sculptures are no less than site documents that record material, construction details, sizes, costs and project timelines.

The soft pencil drawings hide and reveal the sub-layers evoking historical and mythical connections with their substratum. A certain time-space compact collapses the spaces of architecture and economics, art and construction and makes hidden interrelationships apparent. The ways in which the abstract and concrete aspects of production take shape through the process of art making are subtly demonstrated in the works of Louise Despont.



Anuj Daga

Louise Despont. Fort. Coloured pencil and graphite on antique ledger book paper. 187 cms x 178 cms. 2017, Image courtesy the artist and Galerie Isa.





--> -->

Samit Das's work at Tarq

Review: Samit Das's work 'Bibliography in Progress' at Tarq
published in ART India Magazine - Volume 21 Issue 3

--

Drawing on the Past

Samit Das’s assemblages are mounted at the intersection of history and memory, suggests Anuj Daga.


Samit Das’s art practice requires a nuanced reading . Das juggles between the roles of a painter, sculptor, craftsman, on the one hand, and those of archivist, historian, and archaeologist, on the other. In Bibliography In Progress spread across Tarq and Clark House Initiative, Mumbai, from the 13th of April to the 20th of May, Das’s works hold questions informed by such multilayered engagements. Curated by Sumesh Sharma, Das’s show of sculpted paintings and installed pieces bring together a mélange of materials like canvas, cloth, wood, fibre, paper and metal. The resulting assemblages look fragmented and textured. Further, the constituent parts are brought together in a manner where one completes the other by means of overlapping, interjecting or juxtaposing. A unique way of seeing emerges – one that makes the viewer conscious about the ‘incomplete totality’ of our universe.

Often breaking neat boundaries, the frames extend themselves giving an impression of trays mounted on the wall. Such containers remind you of an archaeologist’s tools, within which she collects and sorts artefacts from a given site in order to arrange and narrativize them into a coherent, meaningful past. The act of looking into the tray is analogous to peeping through the window at the historical past as well as a personal memory.

For many of us, unpacking and packing our cabinets filled with memories may be a periodical activity. Why do we keep looking at our collections of tinker bits, bric-a-brac, taking things out and putting them away – they don’t necessarily go back in the same way every time. In taking things out (to create space for new ones, or otherwise), we may pile them in different ways, reconsider their categories, and regroup them to fit with other objects within our collection. However, we often miss the potentialities of the new juxtapositions that happen in the process outside the cabinet. Das’s works emphasize the dormant possibility of these unattended reorganizations that often scatter messily when pulled outside, but set themselves neatly within the cabinet.

Das has in the late 1990s and the early 2000s documented the Tagore Museum in Kolkata and recorded the confluence of design, social history, cultural resonance and architectural intervention in an exhibition titled The Idea of Space and Rabindranath Tagore that has been exhibited locally and internationally. The artworks in the current show possess a topography of their own – they refer to the Ajanta frescoes as well as to Buddhist viharas; they draw from abstraction as an art genre and bricolage as a strategy. They are cavernous, mysterious and dynamic. Amongst other references, embedded within their landscapes are drawings of rock-cut architectural structures or sculptures along with other relics, which were originally carved out of the hills, often to be inhabited, and decorated. Entering the cave is much like diving into the dark space of a treasure chest of old memories. The co-existing duality of the part and the whole resonates with that of the actual situated-ness of the Buddhist monuments which can seldom be experienced devoid of their contexts. The site is as much a part of their reading as the artefact itself.

History is often stitched, stapled and stacked – much like Das’s works. The freestanding sculptures and black and white drawings transform the gallery into an archaeological site – assembling things that seem important, provoking us to think about the ones you would choose to keep.What should stay back in the archive or as an archive? Stones, blocks, paintings and the spaces they occupy beckon us to be conscious of the quality of their negotiations. In a manner similar to American artist Joseph Cornell, Samit Das’ works sort and reveal history that is hidden within the process of its own creation.



Samit Das. From the series Bibliography in Progress. Mixed media. Variable size. 2014-2017. Image courtesy Abner Fernandes and TARQ.


Thursday, September 14, 2017

Five Forms of Urban Engagement

published in Indian Architect & Builder, September 2017 Issue

P.S.: The published article has erroneously missed out the footnotes from the article, which the reader will find in the text here, along with the original subtitle.


FIVE FORMS OF URBAN ENGAGEMENT

Drafting a history of post-liberalization architectural practice in Mumbai through the lens of the film Reading Architecture Practice


Anuj Daga


In the discussion that followed the inaugural screening of the film ‘Reading Architecture Practice’,[1] urbanist Prasad Shetty framed the cultural landscape within which the work may be located as well as appreciated. He mentioned the recent major exhibition, another in making; three books on Mumbai and two films (including the current one) on architectural practice that have been produced in just over a year in the field of architecture in the city.[2] On the one hand, these works have brought architects to the forefront as active producers of culture within the city. At the same time, they also hint at the diversifying profession that attempts to fold in the rapidly changing forces of the built environment within their respective practices. Although insufficient in contextualization of contemporary practice due to lack of historical referencing, the present film serves as a useful index in tracing and recognizing the emerging distinct forms of architectural engagement(s) that both - shape and gets shaped within the post millennial urban geopolitical landscape. The film thus demands to chart for itself the historical transition of architectural practice from a dominant mode of physical production (professional practice) to recognizing forms of preservation, research and teaching as relevant ways of influencing and informing the built environment.

While the first decade after the economic liberalization, i.e. ’90s in India was celebrated in the creation of a global landscape of call centres, BPOs, five-star business hotels, convention centres, malls, multiplexes and commercial complexes in urban centres, the onset of the millennium sees a certain infrastructural as well as cultural crisis on the architectural horizon. Attempts to reclaim the public realm that was exceedingly slipping to the clutches of corporate sprawl is pursued through a form of activism by the practice of architect P K Das. It helped recover the small patch of Bandstand’s mangrove edge with the support of the Bandra West Residents’ Association. The present-day Carter Road interface with the sea was democratic in intent, however worked out through the universal imagination of a “promenade”. On the other hand, fresh global capital mobilizes the restoration of a lot of built heritage in the city that lay in decrepit condition. Architectural conservation of colonial legacy picks up momentum over the late 90s with institutions like UNESCO and INTACH bringing in money for preservation of the Victoria Terminus (now the Chattrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus) as well as the Bhau Daji Lad Museum – both undertaken by Vikas Dilawari in Mumbai. Preservation of natural as well as built heritage of the city thus marks the initial response of architectural practice to new global flows.

Discomforted with the alienated projections offered by international consulting firms invited by Mumbai government around the turn of the millennium,[3] academicians at Kamla Raheja Vidyanidhi Institute of Architecture (KRVIA) had already begun to conduct studies of the transforming built landscapes, including the neighbourhood of Dharavi, as a part of the design studio projects. In large ways, our present distinct understanding of Dharavi’s informality as a networked ‘work-live’ typology (that cannot be simply resolved in providing new housing in remote parts of the city), took seed in these academic exercises. At around the same time in 2003, a group of architects, artists and social practitioners, some associated with KRVIA, came together to formulate the Collective Research Initiatives Trust (CRIT), whose intent was to seriously contemplate on the emerging urban changes within the city. Unlike the academic space, CRIT worked outside the exigencies of the institution, rather, it collaborated with a diverse set of scholars from different disciplines, and conducted independent research projects in order to expand frameworks and methods in deciphering the new form of the city. Much of CRIT’s work was focused on understanding this new urban realm and further through their work provoking to think about projected and possible ideas of (re)development, infrastructure, public space and right to urban space.

By 2005-06 when the city was on the verge of clearing Dharavi from the map – that was now the heartland and a prime real estate in the megacity of Mumbai – KRVIA strongly resisted and appealed to present an alternative imagination for this large informal settlement in contrast to the Mukesh Mehta plan that sought to re-work the entire place through absolute erasure of the rich cultural presence of Dharavi “slums”. As a reaction to the predominant myopic attitudes of imagining the city through tall mindless towers, Aneerudha Paul and Rohan Shivkumar, along with other faculty at KRVIA drove the problem straight into their design studios, involving the students to push for new ways of seeing, and further rethinking the environment, borrowing from their earlier mappings of Dharavi. The work produced over the studio became a valuable base to counter and put hold on the capital-centered, profit-oriented solutions, presenting to the Government optional ways in which redevelopment within the city could be imagined. This episode is enough to assert the creation of knowledge as mainstream “production” in the expanded field of architectural practice.

The growing discontent with the detrimental tendencies of capital driven design, made evident in the academic pursuits of KRVIA and CRIT, was also felt by several architects that prompted them further to look at their own contexts afresh for missed opportunities. The practice of Sameep Padora and Associates, for instance, has come to adapt research as integral to architectural practice. While Padora spends much of his time innovating typological formulations in his studio along with his associates, the firm has also given the dimension of soft advocacy to documentation and research. Experiments with forming architectural collectives, collaborations and associations are critically revisited post the economic depression of 2010. This is demonstrated in new alliances like the Bandra Collective – a group of architects and designers, including Sameep Padora, interested in collaborating on issues of public space primarily in their neighbourhood and beyond. The Bandra Collective looks to preserve and nurture specific urbanities that stitch the mosaic of city together. Rupali Gupte and Prasad Shetty from KRIVA and CRIT move on to institute the School of Environment & Architecture (SEA) in 2014, in collaboration with city architects and and a community based organization[4] with significant experience in conservation, environment, social work, urban design and research to fill the gap in the realm of architectural education that needs to attune to the fast changing nature of the city. Aligning practice and research strategically to each other has led to the reorientation of both – the profession and education.

‘Reading Architecture Practice’ merely collates these ideological directions that architectural practice has taken in order to shape and inform the built environment in response to the changing economic, social and cultural order of the city post 1990s, without pointing to their geopolitical underpinnings. Further, one should not overlook the fact, as Rohan Shivkumar remarked over a conversation, that these deviations by architects (in addition to many more) have come to be identified as valid and relevant forms of architectural practice in our context only after similar pursuits found place in the Western cultural and intellectual discourse. As we deliberate over the timeliness of the film within this historicization, we must recognize that it performs and provokes three important functions for practitioners of the built environment:

1. Reading: the need to observe and speculate the transformation of the physical, cultural and intellectual landscape we create and come to inhabit

2. Architecture: asking critical questions related to form and space in the urban environment therefore widening the scope of the practice

3. Practice: of how certain aspects of architectural training can be pulled and extended to politically inform and reshape urban history and lives of its inhabitants.

---
ENDNOTES


[1] co-created by Rajeev Thakker, Samarth Das, Shreyank Khemalapure, Sunil Thakkar and Philippe Calia that documents five architectural practices in Mumbai: KRVIA (Aneerudha Paul & Rohan Shivkumar), P K Das & Associates (P K Das), CRIT / SEA (Prasad Shetty & Rupali Gupte), sP+a (Sameep Padora) and Vikas Dilawari Architects (Vikas Dilawari)

[2] Prasad was referring to the ‘State of Architecture’ exhibition that was hosted by NGMA in Mumbai, conceived by Mumbai-based curators Rahul Mehrotra, Kaiwan Mehta and Ranjit Honskote, the ‘State of Housing’ exhibition that is soon to take ground by the above set of curators, the books ‘In the Name of Housing’ produced by sP+a (Sameep Padora and Associates), and a bit earlier, ‘Boombay’ by Kamu Iyer and ‘People Called Mumbai’ by architect Nisha Nair who founded the People Place Project, in addition to the recent films ‘Nostalgia for the Future’ by Rohan Shivkumar and Avijit Mukul Kishore and indeed, ‘Reading Architecture Practice’.

[3] Around 2003, several efforts to transform Mumbai into a “world-class” city pushed the BMC to hire the International consulting firm Mckinsey who produced ‘Vision Mumbai’ document, whereas the ‘India Shining’ slogan was popularized by the then-ruling Bharatiya Janta Party (BJP) for the 2004 Indian general elections, wherein the dream to transform Mumbai to Shanghai was floated.

[4] The School of Environment and Architecture (SEA) is a joint initiative of Suvidya Prasarak Sangh (SPS) and Society of Environment and Architecture (SEA Mumbai). Suvidya Prasarak Sangh is a community based organization with an experience of over 40 years in running educational institutions. Source: www.sea.edu.in As accessed on 22nd August 2017




-->

Tuesday, September 05, 2017

Quip

I am perhaps not as interesting as a person, as in text.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Three Contentions: Critical Regionalism

Three contentions on the study of theory of Critical Regionalism in architecture today:

1. That Critical Regionalism (especially Frampton's version) became a framework through which many architects of South Asia could place their works in the main stream architectural discourse of the west. On the other hand it enabled the West with a linguistic vocabulary (terms) through which works of South Asia and regions around could be discussed.

2. While the idea of critical regionalism, as framed by Alexander Tzonis and Liane Lefaivre in their original work suggested a kind of critical continuum of the theory itself - one where architecture must constantly revise itself and address its own epoch, Frampton's formulation deduced it into six points - often consumed as a formula. Frampton's framing of critical regionalism has been critiqued by Fredric Jameson for its stylizing tendency seen in the way in which the text was pedagogically deployed in many South Asian contexts, and sometimes evident in the works of architects working within the purview, themselves.

3. Critical Regionalism must be seen as a corrective theory against the free and careless appropriation of symbols and signs from history within architecture that had a banalizing tendency of postmodern thought - primarily for the South Asian counter parts who were far removed and dissociated from the discursive context of the West.


thoughts developed with discussants: Shreyank Khemlapure, Dushyant Asher

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Taragaon Museum, Kathmandu

One of the finest buildings I saw in Kathmandu was the Taragaon Museum built by Austrian architect Carl Pruscha during the '70s. It is said that Carl Pruscha is the one who brought back the use of brick to assert the indigenous identity of Nepal's architecture within its modern landscape. I learnt that the architect has built about five structures in Kathmandu, and worked extensively on the regional planning of the city. He has compiled two volumes documenting important landmarks and notes across the entire city of Kathmandu.

The Taragaon Museum was originally built as a hostel for visitors traveling to Nepal for short duration stays and gatherings. It consists of a modular plan with a scaled barrel vault as single unit staggered around courtyards and pathways stepping on the sloping site. While it didnt serve the purpose it was built for, the Hyatt, to whom the property belongs, decided to turn it into a Museum. Thus, the entire building serves as a museum to a modest collection of drawings and works of architecture of Nepal.

Roshan Mishra, the present director of the Museum was kind enough to take us around the entire museum, and mentioned that the building was one of the first modern projects executed in Kathmandu. He informed us about the different initiatives that the museum is taking to build its own archives on Nepal's indigenous architecture, library on architectural literature and drawings of Nepal, and so on. After the 2015 earthquake, the museum archives became the principal source of reference material for much of the conservation work within the country. Drawings of ancient architecture in Nepal and other photographic material helped mobilize the process of restoration. It is here that the urgency of preserving architectural documentation of the built landscape in Nepal came to focus for the museum. The Taragaon museum is now consciously collecting books and documentation from across the world towards their archives. Several scholars, architects and artists have graciously donated a lot of drawings and research to the Taragaon museum.

The campus is quite close to the World Heritage Site of Boudha Stupa, which is about 10 minute walk away. Given the context, the earth hugging forms seem to have been conceived as no short of the Buddhist Chaitya halls, which share a similar geometry. The domestic scale of the volumes make an interesting meandering within the museum, making it more human and tactile. The cafe and the auditorium spatially play with volumes, whereas the exterior triangular forms allow you to walk over it. Windows and gutters are very carefully detailed in a way that they do not disrespect the circular and diagonal geometry of the building. The landscape is tightly handled, yet seems so easy and minimal. I am sure the museum holds its own drawings. It might be a pleasure to look at the finer articulations of the planning. We could not go to the basement archives. However, Roshan also mentioned that an extension of the project as planned by Pruscha has never been built. In order to interconnect the Hyatt Regency Hotel and the museum, an grand circular amphitheatre was built about 14 years ago.

Presently, the building has suffered some damage after the 2015 earthquake. Those repairs, along with leakage issues are being treated for now. The architect was very opposed to the proposal of plastering the entire building that was suggested in order for its longevity. Rightfully so! The building does not dominate the landscape unlike the massive generic Grand Hyatt adjacent to the museum. With soft and subtle architecture, the Taragaon museum still exists quietly in the Kathmandu landscape.