Urban Laments / Mumbai

The reason why people in some places may be clueless where they are going! 

The Aesthetics of Co-existence

Like many mornings, this morning I was walking along the skywalk of Borivali West (Mumbai) to see more and more homeless lined up with their sleeping mattresses. The period of monsoon especially sees the increase in the number of homeless occupying the space of the skywalk. Here, one sees different bodies intertwined with each other. Men with men, men with women, children with women, children on men on the one hand, and dogs besides humans, cats playing with children, and so on. These intertwining is far for sexual. the intimacy here is a product of the shortage of resources. The limited length of the mattress, the single and only blanket, the only space which may be dry or the best corner to leave space for the pedestrian walk. On passing thought this landscape today, I thought to myself - if this is not co-existence, then what is? 

Of all the hullabaloo that is made of co-existence in the theoretical space within the academia today, here, co-existence is a mere necessity. Yet, the image of co-existence seemed far away from beautiful. Firstly, these bodies lined up on the skywalk certainly had a different sense of cleanliness. To be able to inhabit a ground that is walked by hundreds of feet bringing dust from all over the city requires an alternative level of equation with hygiene. This in addition to the lingering dirt and muck of the rains, the spit and shit of the scavengers, the rubbish and remains of the passersby create a landscape that the middle-class would associate with disgust and disease. Secondly, the absence of shame in loitering, cooking, worshipping, sleeping in the open (air) must require a unique kind of sense of self. To be able to suspend one's state of awareness, vanity and being comfortable in the state of things without being affected by the gaze of the passers by is a leap into the very fact of existence. 

Now that I begin to write the above, I am made aware of how my own sense of shame or self is constructed perhaps throught a certain middle class morality. The idea of co-existence too then, is shaped through such a moral position. This position, layered with an aspiration of the upward classes shapes a peculiar imagination and aesthetic model of co-existence that frames the pedagogical space of the institution. The institutional idea of co-existence that emerges within design schools (planning, architecture, interior, and such) often misses to acknowledge the political economy of marginality. The moment the marginal is made into the mainstream, it is prone to get hijacked by the middle class, or more appropriately the bourgeoisie. Any attempt to upgrade the marginal into the dignified will shift its image into the realm of the middle-class. This situation creates an opportunity of 'exclusionary appropriation'. 

Exclusionary appropriation could be thought of as structurally similar to gentrification. Through the creation of an allurement of an upward tending lifestyle, the lower classes are promised facilities and resources which most may themselves not be able to afford. Thus, identifying themselves clearly separate from that image now, they willingly surrender resources that they once primarily claimed. This trickery is how urban spaces get reformed. This is not the bane of merely the middle class. This could also be the situation for poor or the homeless occupying the margins within urban spaces. The bourgeoisie designers are helpless in thinking about design outside their frames of middle-class-ness. This is primarily because firstly, this is what the apparatus of the design institutions trains them as, and secondly, it is what is their "aspirational normal". Which is to say, their own standards of hygiene and cleanliness are much different from that which they see on the streets. The work of dignifying, in their design process is thus, elevating the poor to at least their levels of hygiene. This decision already puts an economic pressure on those people who transiently occupy open empty pockets of the city when no one else probably claims it. 

What I am trying to articulate is this image of the marginal that discomforts us on the one hand, and produces empathy on the other. This empathy, to be sure, arises out of our middle class morality which, seemingly is too precious to give up. It is shaped by the taught values of being helpful to the other, and if you are a designer, the social cause of your profession. Both of these in their root, are opposed to the aesthetic of the marginal on several ground of economy, cleanliness, privacy, permanence and so on. How do we critically interrogate and address the bourgeoisie entrapment of our design methods?

As I walked ahead thinking of all these things, the skywalk was ready to come to an end. At the bend, a handicapped old man was looking into the steel wares he may have scavenged or collected over time, perhaps for his morning breakfast while a woman was just getting up besides a shrine she has elaborated over the last year. What may have come for an occassion of a single auspicious day (which even the enforcement authorities could not have opposed, in the might of God), has slowly accrued larger over time. Scavenged photographs, discarded objects of worship along with exotic natural rejects like pine cones or dried flowers now adorn a what may be emerging into a permanent corner of worship for all the homeless on the bridge. Just as one moves ahead towards the steps, dirt littered around the petit municipal dustbin rotting in the drizzle of the rain continues to mix into fresh faeces of  what one wonders would be canine or human. 

The Disciple by Chaitanya Tamhane

The Aesthetics of Mediocrity

image: https://neweuropefilmsales.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/TheDisciple_Still-021-e1636469194286.jpg

Chaitanya Tamhane's latest film, 'The Disciple', that was released on Netflix last week has been the centre of discussion across several platforms. The film charts the life of Sharad Nerulkar, an aspiring classical vocalist in the Hindustani music tradition. Sharad is a devoted learner under his guru who trains young minds in music as well as gives vocal performances that earn him his modest survival. While other students learning under the Guru, along with Sharad are able to find themselves platforms for performance as they graduate, Sharad seems to be struggling, caught up in mere technique and finding it difficult to creatively break through into the art itself. Sharad however, is fully aware of his shortcomings. He is self-critical, hard working, and yet an unsuccessful individual. In such a narration, the film, as largely understood by most, is about "coming to terms with one's one mediocrity". 

What lies behind the appeal of the film is Tamhane's ability to produce empathy towards a deeply undesired human value: mediocrity. Artist Bharati Kapadia, with whom I was discussing the film said, "It hits us because we are able to see the mediocre in each one of us through the character of the Sharad." Whether you want or not, the film is able to bring doubt in their own abilities. This production of ambiguity is the hallmark of Tamhanhe's film-making in techniques well as story-telling. The sustained long distance shots in the film don't try to direct the eye too much, rather suspend the viewer in the ambiguity of space itself. The voice of the inner mind -  in maai's recordings plugged into the Sharad's ears as he passes through the empty streets of the city at night; or his own confusions trying to come to terms with his perceived shortcomings or the seeming politics of his relationship with his guru - create the haunt of ambiguous space. The constructed silences amplify frustrations of a mind that is unable to articulate the means to reach the genius. To be sure, the story telling in 'The Disciple' has the exact opposite effect of what 'Taare Zameen Par' had on us. In contrast to how we all relate to the young dyslexic boy in TZP and imagine that we are special too, Sharad's character in 'The Disciple' is quite anti-climactic.

Tamhane pushes us to consider through the film whether the figure of the genius is reality or myth. I have been thinking very deeply if the failure of the disciple in the film was because of his shortcomings or because of the lack of opportunities that somehow didn't come his way. Opportunities like such are controlled by networks, connections, access to people...and so on...In my opinion, the disciple Sharad didnot seem so bad...he had technique, he had the skill, he was intelligent enough to understand his limitations, then why should he have suffered? To know what you don't know is a good thing...but I wonder if the idealism of his maai just pulled him back from believing in himself to even find an alternative space for his craft. Sharad ends up giving so much importance to the aura of the world that maai creates for him, that he stops acknowledging his own reality, the context in which he lives...I feel that the slippage that he suffers in his life is the burden of self expectation.

What could have been the role of the guru in shaping a student such as Sharad who is honest, hardworking, self-critical yet unable to design music through his craft? We do not see the guru's efforts in devising methods for his student to be able to produce new experiences, or overcome his mental block.  These are aspects that I have been unable to come to terms with. While the incapability of the student has been highlighted throughout the film, the responsibility of the teacher could have been detailed too. The pedagogical zone of music is left mythically illusive, excused in complete devotion, abstinence or sacrifice. Sharad refrains from worldly pleasures until a late age despite having strong carnal urges. 

The film has further brought me to consider how 'mediocrity' is a social construct. How must one prepare a frame for critical appraisal of averageness? The 'everyday' is a category that may be one window to the acknowledgement of being average - that which is neither good, nor bad. Isn't that what average is? Average is functional, workable, acceptable, satisfactory. Sharad was satisfactory. For most of our lives, we consume what is satisfactory. The desire to be exclusive and special is a socially constructed desire. I don't mean to suggest that one should not have the desire to feel special, or be exclusive. The argument however is, that why does averageness discomfort us if more than half the population around us is just plain average? How have we come to ascribe a negative value to being average? Is there no beauty in the average? It is the rejection of the average that Sharad's mind is conflicted with. Sharad's conflict may also be seen as valid in light of the fact that he has been putting in tremendous personal resources in order to go beyond the average. Yet, I wish if the guru was able to help Sharad reconcile with his averageness. 

Over time, the film expresses the aesthetic of mediocrity rather beautifully. Sharad - once a young charming boy reluctantly hopeful of a bright future in his eyes slowly emerges into a stiff middle-aged man drowned in the seriousness of life and failure of his ambition. He is certainly not progressive and holds the values he has come to believe in (without critical consideration) rather strongly. That mindset becomes his frame to judge the world, a world that in fact he feels judged by. Sharad is confused in the idea of success - he is unable to resolve whether it is the worldly acknowledgement or the internal contentment through his singing that will satisfy his restiveness. In his case, perhaps these categories are intertwined and interrelated. His belief in a purism that he could not bring in his music never deters him from it. Still, Sharad does not alter his route from the Hindustani classical form despite having tremendous technique. He prefers to remain in limbo without the methods or means to achieve success or salvation in his art. This, in my mind, was my biggest dejection in Sharad.

A stronger Marxist analysis of the film would clearly bring out how values of mediocrity or averageness, which often become the frames of self-identification are a result of the political economy of how the enterprise of classical music organizes itself in the present day context. Matters of exposure, access, patronage, support are all reworked through distinct mechanisms of the economy. Value is largely created through quantified logistics. How do we trust instruments of TRPs, or the uninformed ears/eyes that hold the power to bring value to artistic pursuits that take a lifetime to be honed? The mysticism associated to the values of the 'genius' or 'excellence' may operate well in a medieval economic model, however when brought into the space of capitalism may require new grounding. Yet, the question of where do we locate art, its purpose - for the self and the world, are questions that the film helps open up. I would have liked to see other dimensions of Sharad's life beyond music, which in its portrayal not only makes us view him as a loser, but could also help us enjoy the buoyancy that helps us survive while still being the everyday average.

Institutions and Certainties

I have been thinking for some time now, if the idea of the "institution" is a heteronormative concept. I have spent a great deal of time thinking about the idea of institution and institutionalization. In simple words, institutionalization would mean to consolidate any task into a systemic process. In other words it is "the action of establishing something as a convention or norm in an organization or culture." Institutions are formed through improvising upon trials and errors within a group of people to aid fool proof decision making. These are formed over long time, studied as patterns and codified into rules in order for the smooth and efficient functioning within any organization. Identifying patterns and codifying them also means the freezing of cultural actions. Institutions are often critiqued for the solidification processes. They become stronger because they are able to deal with situations through their pre-ascertained decision making. In other words, institutions are about charting certainties. They operate within firm speculations, and expect people to behave within their identified parameters. Any one who falls outside of their pattern, may become un-institutional. 

These people who lie on the margins of the institutions are often called deviants, and always at the risk of societal othering, for all of society is neatly divided into multiple overlapping institutional mechanisms. Ideas like family, school, nation, and so on - all expect a subject to behave in a particular way. These are concepts that are formulated and consolidated primarily through a heteronormalized morality - that which privileges and is rested on a the idea of a future that will validate its own productive forms and logics. The family is predicated upon the idea of security of progeny and property, and is held together in economic and social rules that will disallow any deviations to the idea. The entire financial industry is structured to support this dominant notion of a relationship unit - that consists of a man, a woman and their children. Other forms of relationships are not necessarily supported as readily by financial institutions. Non-productive relationships like homosexual partners, or sorority kinships and many such other relationships do not promise the future of the institution of the family, and hence do not avail several security benefits within the present scheme of things.

Schools as institutions are expected to prepare candidates for serving different jobs within the productive world. Thus, they largely have to frame a certain picture of future for their clients, i.e. students. That you "will" become an engineer, or an architect, or a doctor - all are promises that are made at the beginning of the course. A certificate of degree is handed over to you as a document of proof. There is no real value to these certificate or degrees, for there is a fair chance for everyone to make mistakes even in their professional delivery of learned knowledge during application in real instances. Yes, institutions create this guarantee-mechanism through their own validation mechanisms that gain societal approvals. The success of these mechanisms is approved through a process of majoritarian survey. At a certain point, industry and institution tie up to co-produce these figures. Thus the cycle of institutionalization becomes impenetrable and solidified. In other words, the formula for certainty is manufactured, in a way that any genuine question regarding ethical or moral anomalies could easily be dismissed on the ground that they do not fall within the system. The language of institutions can not be penetrated easily by deviants, because deviants do not find (or may not enjoy) place within the accepted rules of the institutions themselves.  

I began to write out this thought, in fact, to find a place for uncertainty within the world we exist in. What is the place of uncertainty and doubt in the environment that we come to inhabit today? If the entire world is predominantly categorized into dominant institutional frameworks for every aspect of life (that eventually becomes an industry) - how and where do we locate and plant the seeds of uncertainty? The question of ambiguity is important for several groups who have not figured out their world, or are not able to fit into the given world. These include communities of different kinds of people who feel marginalized all the time - queer, racialized, handicapped, and other such bodies for whom an institutionalized idea of the world seems alien. There is a expectation that institutions impose on subjects - to behave in set ways, to perform in identified modes, to reciprocate in assumed manners. These are tropes of certainties that lay in the idea of institutions. Institutions expect you to project a world far ahead based on the patterns and assumptions they have codified in their books. Their dispositional engagement with future is predicated on learnt certainties, which leaves very little room for unexpected events to occur. The burden of the future is thus exacerbated by institutional thinking. I hope there are more interesting ways to exist without these institutional bindings. 

On what we call "classical"

Its wonderful to open a day with some beautiful music. The last month has been has been heated up on the debate of nepotism after the suicide of Sushant Singh Rajput - a young Indian actor with a short career in the Hindi film industry. Subsequently, the entire film industry has begun to reflect, reorient and rethink their relationship and terms of engagement with the industry as well as its production and consumption. One of the most interesting moves I observed was by a very young Delhi-based vocalist Maithili Thakur who runs a YouTube channel of her own, where she sings for her audiences rendering classical, folk and sometimes Bollywood song covers. In support of the debate, she announced on her channel her decision to not sing any Bollywood songs henceforth. Her action was soft, generous and compelling, giving way to so much folk, and classical music that often doesnot reach the audiences in the opacity of Bollywood. Moreso, Bollywood has begun to claim its territory in laying claim to their production and disallowing people to make it their own by any means of reproducing and making their own versions. Such acts infringe, today, copyright laws and are subject to legal action. Smaller, competent artists who often draw ideas from these large institutions (like music companies and production houses) for their everyday survival feel threatened today. Maithili - the young singer (who has earlier participated in a TV singing show) found her way out taking pleasure and solace in limiting her self to classical and folk songs from around. It is here that I began to think of the how a classic liberates itself from authorship and gets assimilated within the everyday.

There are clearly two attitudes to the "classical". The first always tries to fight the classical, which has consolidated itself into a tradition, and becomes the benchmark and yardstick for evaluating aesthetic taste within a culture. Newer productions are often judged in the background of these, and often such basis of comparisons are dismissed and denied in order to make place for the "new". The second attitude is to reach towards this classical, to become as perfect as the work of art that has been set in history. To be sure, the "classic" here is a certain state of pleasure that everyone ought to become sensitive to, or rather experience. It is a function of high taste, and connoisseurship to be able to even appreciate and enjoy these forms. Two problems arise here. First, the presumed intellectual inaccess to this "craft" and second, its association subsequently with "class" (hence classic) that becomes an easy critique of the classical. In any civilization, the "classical" work of art is assumed to have been produced through a an act of patronage by the upper class - one that also enjoys its own place in history because of its economic privilege and the one that sustains culture through economic support. The "classical" is assumed to be desirable for it could become a symbolic means for appropriation of class through adoption of taste. However, when seen as a pursuit of the individual who want to transcend the earlier boundaries of any craft, the dimension of class doesnot necessarily stand legitimate. What I mean to say is that a fine artist would still produce something far more sophisticated even if the patronage was not available. Ghalib, the poet, who for a very long time did not receive any audience because of the profound intellectual depth and craft of his work. (One could still say that the institutionalization of their histories do bring them cultural privilege through discourse, which works towards their validation). But in addition, since these works require a heightened engagement of the intellect - those which may be enjoyed in the luxury of absence of survival exigencies - they are often relegated from direct assimilation in everyday life, and distanced from the popular or folk. In other words, to understand these would require some effort to get into the knack of the artistic innovation in them. This is necessarily a disciplinary aspect. The everyday consumers, whom we often call the "laymen" find themselves drifting faraway from the classic because they often do not have the same luxuries to afford the investment in these arts. Often thus, they turn to create something of another order for pleasure in their cultural life.

The bigger point however regarding any "classic" is the fact that it now belongs to no one. Classical songs, for example do not necessarily claim any territory through copyright laws. Classics attain the status of a theorem in a society, available to all. Most classic songs emerge from folk traditions - which have been sustained through patronage. Would this not be important to recognize before labelling them to belong to a class. What I am essentially proposing is this: that classics do not necessarily belong to a class, but must also be considered i within the private domain of its creators, where they are building up a way of appreciation irrespective of class patronage. Such a personal engagement makes us realise the unique potential of art that takes shape through the medium of the artist. Much of these classics were produced in an environment of healthy exchange of cultural ideas, where the notion of authorship was submitted towards pushing the limits of craft itself. However, in the absence of the modern day legal framework, these never bounded themselves to be not reproduced. Today, as Maithili decided only to sing classical tunes from the past, there is no way she can reproduce the original, rather, render in her own way. The classical, thus reduced to certain principles, becomes a much sustainable framework. This dissolution of authorship in the formulation of the classical must be recognized. On the other hand, in order for something to become classic, its access must not be limited, rather widened. In our cultural practice, the generosity of exchange and reproduction must be valued. Modern modes of art making privilege the rejection of the past, and avoid reproduction. The act of copying is considered profane.

In eastern cultures, for example, copying and reproduction has remained the principal way of passing knowledge. We can not say these have not evolved, or have not been critical. Rather, the evolution of these crafts have been so subtle that it becomes extremely difficult to trace the moment of shift. Chinese paintings, for example are taught through the tenet of rigorous reproduction. Indian miniatures were a well oiled guild system where there were specialists to make each stage of painting. Similarly, Hindustani and Carnatic classical music depended on a tradition of riyaz, where repetition was a means for sustained meditation - a process through which one could forget, and even forego authorship to the discipline itself. These aspects of one's engagement with one's art are often completely overshadowed in their evaluation as feudal. The modern society dubs these practices of the past as those that are patriarchal, shaping under a clear hierarchy of the master. What was relevant however, in this hierarchy was the privileging of the craft rather than its consumption. To be sure, have hierarchies not existed even today, those which have merely translated into the economic order? To critique the past in this light of its feudal hierarchies seems shallow. Yet, this is not to say that access to the guru, and therefore the art was not an issue. (It certainly ways, seen in the fables of Eklavya or even the recent filmic adaptation of Katyar Kaljyat Ghusli.) However, what these tales tell us, essentially, is that perhaps that unacknowledged learning was a threat, for the guru may not be aware of the critical orientation of the silent learner. The criticality of passing of art was embedded in the practice of copying itself - one that needs to be recognized and unpacked. Copying, in the logic of capitalism has reduced itself merely to reproduce pleasure at first sight, whereas, perhaps, in the past, the mode of copying carried with it, its own critical component, enmeshed in the diversified instructions and observations of the teacher.

The pressure of the original and anxiety of reproduction in the cultural sphere has kept me disturbed for a very long time. The poet and literary critic Harold Bloom has a sharp analysis called 'The Anxiety of Influence' that articulates these ideas within the context of some renaissance works of literature. It opens up a discussion on the moral foundations of cultural production, and makes worthwhile arguments. It is only imperative that we do not outrightly reject "classics" as productions of class societies, rather acknowledge their cultural values. However, there may be several more dimension to the production of value towards the making of a classic that must be investigated with more time and patience. What I do appreciate is the ease with which classics are able to lend us the means for contemporary cultural production. And for now, I will leave it at that. 

Teaching Online During Covid

This morning, I was thinking what would have really happened, after all, if we stopped teaching for 6 months given the impositions of lock down and house confinements to abate COVID-pandemic. How would life change in the larger scheme of things and events at all if education just stopped for a bit? Why have educators been desperate to find modes and means of transitioning their instructions into some or the other way of online teaching? What was so urgent? Would the world doom if growing minds did not study for 6 months, or even one year? Indeed, one could argue that education, of all other things, is one sector that could most easily operate online. But what view and biases do we hold of education when we do make that statement? Do we mean to say that education is merely a passive from of passing or receiving information that has nothing to do with the presence of two bodies in any physical space? Do we mean to say that classroom is simply a transaction of information that can happen anywhere, anytime? Do we mean to say that it is nothing but pure administration - in both, bureaucratic and institutional terms - that schools are merely institutional mechanisms for delivering potions of lessons, dosages to those involved in the process of learning? In sum, what is teaching and learning, and how does one reduce it to an online interface with such forceful and quick ways into the mode of online medium?

On the one hand there is huge amount of debate all across the world on pedagogical methods that have become outdated - those that donot deliver students relevant skills for the exponentially changing world. Companies like google and facebook seemingly no longer recognize degrees of institutional training while seeking candidates. Students learn on the go, in many cases become autodidacts by consuming the already available content or by engaging not just online, but also in their own areas of practice. Indeed there is a huge disparity in terms of awareness and guidance. But even for that scenario, I am forced to think, what would have one year of delay cost in educating oneself? I am finding hard to reconcile how, where on one hand, there are debates to skip out of the rut of teaching in the typical modalities of sessions and lectures, whereas on the other hand, much if it succumbs to the unsaid pressure of continuing to carry out the same ways of educating online, in the most chauvinistic manner. In other instances, we are often advised to look at the world in the larger scheme of things, to think of time in a larger scale of the universe - and suddenly, all that is crushed and crashed into the medium of web-space. What essentially is going on? Why such a desperation?

We are certainly held in a double bind. The only rationalising theory that seems to drive our actions is the compulsion of living in a capitalist society. Engines of education have to keep themselves running so as to assure the flow of economy, in the macro as well as micro dimensions. At both the scales, the only dimension I can think of is the drive to maintain regular flow of money. All decisions are hurried and hushed to get to online track so as to maintain the rhythm and rhyme of regular payments. The narrative of "life must go on" seems merely a cover up. Life would have went on even if students were not studying under their so called teachers. Just that the kinds of the learners of any age would have found other things to engage in - online or otherwise. They would have found some ways to escape or engage with life. At home, they would have learnt gardening or cooking, or even cleaning. If allowed out, they would perhaps simply stroll, or observe - and I wonder how would these activities productively contribute to the lessons in class that sooner or later, everyone would come back to. And at this point, it is interesting to also consider the other way round - how is this phase of online learning going to impact physical learning when we do get back to it? Are we going to be chauvinistically celebrate the maintaining of the institutional continuum? Are we going to thump our chests for saving the six months of the magnanimous project called life? I have been disturbed with all these thoughts over some time now - this whole hurry and insecurity to push life into the computer space. Indeed, this is not to say that for many this is an escape from their troubled domesticities - but should we be addressing the escape, or finding alternative escapes for our lives? We need to think more rationally.

on Architectural Diagrams

On Architectural / Education in India

One of the questions that recurrently troubles academicians is the seeming redundancy of the educational apparatus in our country – one that falls short of producing practitioners of calibre, invent and depth. Academic infrastructure, both, soft and hard, remains acutely questionable towards its output. We may count several accomplished individuals in our country today, most of whom would not attribute their key learnings to their home academies! The most equipped state sponsored institutions such as the IITs, IIMs, NIDs and others seem to fall short of the promise that their resourceful abundance must yield. A quick survey leaves us with only a handful names whose contribution could be celebrated in contemporary India. The decadence of educational institutions in India has been statistically proven, and culturally mapped across several recent films in popular culture. These rightfully bring out the overemphasis of educative processes on science and math that resulted into the saturation of engineers and doctors by early millennium in the country. Further, their lost ground gets amply demonstrated in the proliferation of parallel education engines – the private tuitions, coaching classes and the ad hoc vocational centres. Academies, instead of furthering the methodical, inquiry-oriented tenets of scientific knowledge in educational processes have reduced learning into formula-driven process, one that lacks any interpretive dimension. To a large extent, such a phenomenon is also imbricated in the literacy-oriented delivery of education, adopted by the central government that made learning more didactic, divorced from the inherent values of inducing curiosity and knowing the world. The underplaying of humanities, ignorance of languages and the side lining of the arts within the mainstream education has left us largely with uninspiring practitioners across the spectrum of knowledge fields who demonstrate a derivative landscape that lacks imagination, contextual sensitivity or even meaningful dialogue with our environment. Academic practice and the world thus seemed to have drifted apart significantly from each other.

The course of architectural education in India unfortunately fits the above narrative neatly. Instituted as a service-oriented counterpart for the colonial building apparatus, the discipline of architecture has remained a drawing-oriented profession until today. Largely placed within the domain of engineering, the architect is unfailingly supposed to aid the functional and technical requirements for building, with design as a slap-dash insert. After independence, architectural education becomes a function of the regional engineering colleges across various states in India, limited into a problem-solving discourse. In contrast, if one were to consider the architectural institutions set up by architects, the possibility for countering colonial hegemony in spatial education seemed unidentified, and hence fuzzy on the horizon. Of the few architectural institutions primarily founded by architects in the country post-independence, two stand out clearly. The Academy of Architecture in Mumbai started in 1955 by late S. H. Wandrekar, Prof. C. K. Gumaste and late V. G. Mhatre as a part time course primarily aimed to enable students to pursue architecture as a professional career; whereas the Centre for Environmental Planning and Technology (CEPT), founded by B V Doshi in Ahmedabad in 1962 with the infrastructural support of industrialists Kasturbhai Lalbhai aimed to develop an architectural sensitivity for building in India, yet remained deeply rooted in the principles of Bauhaus. Other latter architectural institutions within the country largely established by networks of developers, builders or politicians until the 1990s often grooved in architecture as a function of the market. Thus, the three tendencies that set the tone for architectural discourse in India have respectively remained embroiled in (a) bureaucratization and professionalization of the practice to match global delivery standards, (b) producing contextual responses (read “Indian” response) by principally applying European methods, or (c) attuning education to the intermediate emerging demands and forces of the market. Architectural academia in India has struggled thus, to have a voice of one’s own, free from geopolitical academic hegemony or the mere exigencies of demand and supply of the market.

Architectural theory in the South Asian region, wherein indigenous methods of spatial imagination were overlooked and restrained for around two centuries with the advent of colonial occupation, have largely followed narratives and imperatives initiated by the West. In the meagre presence of indigenous discourse on space, fresh architectural ideas were further asserted through the consumption and regurgitation of the Indian modern architects like Charles Correa, Achyut Kanvinde, B V Doshi or Anant Raje, who were themselves either trained or exposed closely in the western idiom. While they served as the key “institutions” for the curious minds within the field back home beyond the descriptive accounts of James Fergusson or Sir Bannister Fletcher, their voice too was only validated principally through the western academic spheres. Academic papers presented at conferences across the world have seemed to be imbricated in the larger world-views pre-framed by the economically powerful as a means to foray into new markets. Keywords like “vernacular”, “sustainable”, “critical regional” or “global”, around which most international conferences were designed, were subsumed as a derivative appendage for indigenous architectural discussion in the absence of design and architectural academies enabling discourses in space-making or spatial practice. In the conundrum of yet making sense of modernity, architectural academia in India too, now, seemed to be slipping in service of the new global order of economic and cultural hegemony. Studied and spoken primarily in English, the discourse of space in India hardly finds an expression in alternative native languages, regulating narrative structures for architectural thought, which could otherwise offer new orientation into spatial logics and inhabitation. Assimilation of modern thinking has thus ironically distanced us from spatial logics that could offer alternatives to contradiction-ridden landscapes we come to occupy today.

With the above preface, it is critical to consider the role of the academy and the academician – both, as a producer and consumer of the world we eventually come to inhabit. In this frame, the world is necessarily a construct, in other words, here we concern ourselves with the produced world and the terms that the academy sets for engagement with its environment. It is after all, the academy, that extends physical and intellectual infrastructure for the production of such world. Academic practice, which operates within such a framework is responsible for remaining relevant to its immediate and extended context. To be sure, academic practice is not simply the delivery of information within a classroom, rather it consists of a broader set of activities concerned with the production of knowledge and processes of administering, disseminating and furthering educational programmes. Therefore, it simply does not resolve into the creation of a bureaucratic institution, but relies on sustaining an active environment of discourse, debate and exchange of ideas. Academicians choreograph interaction of different disciplines, moderate the impact of thoughts on society, mediate relationships between objects of knowledge and potentially formulate critical and contextual ways of engagement with the emerging environment. Teaching constitutes only a small but significant part of an academician’s responsibility – one that is a space of rehearsal and / or performance of ideas. Rather it is expected that the academician will push the boundaries of the way one knows and thinks of the world through extended modes of contemplating, writing, theorizing and enabling experiments for new ideas to emerge. Moreso, academic environments must orchestrate cross pollination of ideas, meeting of interested minds through which an alternative world beyond the prosaic everyday, may be crafted. Do our institutions promise an enthusiastic environment for learners who may have the interest and potential for envisioning or pursuing such a reality rigorously?

Listening to Lata

Some of my friends vehemently argue that Lata Mangeshkar became popular only because of the volume of songs that she got to sing. And ofcourse, there must be many, and even legitimate accounts of how she must have monopolised the music market. The more irritating problem to me however, is when people begin to judge someone (as populist) based on whom (here Lata) we listen to. Now, many know that I am into music, that I have learnt it, and also that I can reasonably sing well. When I listen to songs, I mostly listen to them very intently and carefully. Some performances of Lata (along with many others) have left me stunned of her acumen. The effortless manner in which she is able to glide through musical notes, the clever ways in which she plays with the beats, her ingenuity in taking aalaps - sometimes devised on her own that have become the signature of so many songs - are all admirable qualities. All of this, at a time when we didnot have technology where music can be punched, tone can be autocorrected or music and singing is recorded separately.

I often engage myself with covers of songs I like. These are mostly by Lata or Asha, or such other singers from their generation. Mostly, these are to understand the true potentials of an average singer. One often is able to notice in these renditions, the actual limitations one faces - because often, these covers are recorded using very low end, home bound technology. The appreciation of their original singers thus takes full meaning for one realises they were able to do much more in the limited technology back in the day. Further, these are moments which make you realise why precisely you like a particular rendition. I also listen to the male versions of Lata songs that I often end up disliking. (not giving a list here).

By and large, the argument is that we are socially conditioned to listen to Lata Mangeshkar. The questions that must be raised then are as follows: When people go to listen to Lata/Asha/Rafi songs in contemporary concerts, do they listen to the original, or do they listen to a version of the original? Having attend several of such concerts, where halls are full, it is obvious that audiences consume a mere second-hand version of the song, often imitating the voice. What aspect, in such a situation gets consumed? Do the listeners imagine the original Lata singing? Or are they appreciating the reproduction of the songs one has heard through the performer at hand? We come to consider here, that the listener, necessarily listening to the contemporary performer, takes pleasures in the nuances that he/she has registered in his/her own listening of the song - moments through which they make a mental map, or a diagram of the song, or more accurately, a diagram of pleasure within the object of music. These diagrams are difficult to challenge by contemporary musicians.

The shift of music register, or listening practice, from melody to voice texture took place only after 90s, when new assertions through global capital were enabled in India. People began to identify themselves in these new kinds of voice cultures, that shaped new listening cultures. Many old Hindi  songs where dubbed into remixes by newer singers, many of which were not successful. One can see how easily they lose listenership over the original counterparts. Voice casting almost overshadowded any need for melody, with the extended technological aid of autotune and electronic voices. Thus, music could virtually be produced without the need for singers. The first decade of the millennium saw a range of voice casting that created a new value for types of sounds, not necessarily melodies. Yet, these were all more often than not, easily forgotten. I would go on to say that post 1990s, music in Hindi Film Industry also was readjusting to the new instruments and recording techniques that were acquired from the west. One observes that the industry takes time to settle into the earlier melody-oriented music-making in the country. Thus we have very crude experimental music productions, even at the cost of perverse lyrics sometimes.

Even in times such as these, people find themselves going back to the older melodies sung in the simplicity of musical score in the early 60s-90s. In my opinion, one cannot simply relegate this music-listening as a populist act of consumption. And while one listens to Lata, one is equally sensitive of all the developments in music (atleast in the Hindi Film industry). Could then, the recent fetish for introducing and consuming new textures of voices, infact, be considered populist? I have been thinking about what critical frames would one consider in evaluating or appreciating music in the context of listening to songs produced in the Hindi Film industry. A friend recently pointed to me a music analyst who performs across stage shows. It's time I turn back to her and hunt this person down!

On 'Style' and 'Type' in architecture

In architecture, studies in image, iconography, symbols, style, and such other visual tropes are often seen as pejorative in the line of specific modern discourse that rejects ornament over building in the favour of studying its spatial configuration. To be sure, ornamentation over a building is the medium through which we "access" and "construct" historical narrative apparent in much of archaeological analysis. Can we consider the new urban motifs of the contemporary built forms for serious study in the present? How do we write histories of architecture by studying building ornamentations that get produced in the hypermediated space of information and exchange of images? My inquiry is triggered primarily in consideration of the question: how do the relief works at the two millennium old Kahneri caves in Mumbai gain more currency for architectural studies over the contemporary global fusion of plaster casts that are overlooked and dismissed culturally allegedly for their poor value?

We know for a fact that iconographic scholarship has been a serious practice, and scholars have invested their lives in understanding how intangible ideas get moulded into shapes and material. Iconographers have helped us decode for example, languages, codes and deeper myths around which ancient or pre-modern societies were probably structured. Several cultural products, including buildings are dated based on the motifs they carry - for they index the advent of technique and expertise, as much as adaptation and civilizational movement in history.  In this vein, would the iconographies of today not be valuable to write histories of built environment for the future? Would the transport and assimilation of motifs within a building, even if hypermediated, not be of any value to the architect's role as a cultural commentator? Often, there is a prevailing anxiety to embrace the discussions of "style" within architectural studies today. Such aversion is understandable in the register that often these become ready templates for uncritical building authors who want to reproduce effectual experiences through gimmicks. However, the articulation of a certain idea into style (that which becomes material), also underpins the ideologies through which the society negotiates prevalent forces for a given building. To reject the notion of "style" completely may not be wise - for in being kitsch, pastiche or even gaudy, it still holds value and comments about the dominant mode of production in a society. Can/should a society really free itself from 'style'?

The much celebrated Mannerist architecture of 15th century brought out unique commentaries on existing political tensions within the then European society through the subtle and subversive play of building elements to defy existing norms and beliefs. Architectural iconography became a poignant way thereby to encode a script of resistance, yet open up new orders of space and experience. (Mannerist, in fact, came from Italian maneria, which means 'exaggerated style in speech, art or other behaviour'). In the 18th century, the reinvigoration of classical forms in a pronounced and provocative manner by architects like Claude Nicholas Leadoux, Boullee or Lequeue offered critical social commentaries through their often fantastical architecture. This was a period that we know of as 'Neo-classicism'. The "-ism" must not be confused here to indicate a "stylistic" discourse, rather, a way in which architecture materially became a vehicle for certain political and ideological mobilization. More recently, in the 1970s, Robert Venturi's 'Complexity and Contradiction in Architecture' argued for embracing a certain vocabulary of architectural elements that modernism famously rejected, in order to produce a plurality of meaning which offers play in the everyday experience of architecture. Often marked as the key moment for a 'post-modern' discourse in architecture, the book influenced several architects who went on to create, yet again, provocative, humorous - sometimes even kitchy reproductions of architecture. Despite the role of architecture that offers social commentary through the mobilization of ornamentation - structural or applied (and certainly not devoid and divorced of parallel typological changes), there is a tendency to suppress the symbolic role of architecture, which is essentially negotiated through style. On the other hand, sytlistic (mis)appropriations are common  and index a range of values. However, can its discussion be totally excluded from historical analysis and understanding of the architectural object?

The discussion of architecture through style can be problematic if it is not undertaken critically, and delivered as a template of design. Contrastingly, we can argue that the speculations on societal structures based on analysis of building 'type' may be grossly incorrect, for we do not know the practices and precise myths which shaped these spaces. For example, archaeologist Suraj Pandit in his analysis of certain cave at Kanheri expressed how difficult it was to figure the function of a long cave which had stone platform strips with carved cup-shaped depressions at regular intervals. Was it a dining hall, was it a library, was it a place of preparation, was it a place of group mediation - we do not know! The diagram for all the above activities could potentially be same. How do we rely on typological analysis in such situations? In the contemporary times, in India, very few architects understand the notion of "type" - and thus, we do not see its active mobilization within our buildings. Often, default, accepted, already-formulated ways of organisation are replicated neutrally without understanding new contextual settings. The malls, corporate office blocks, the BHK - all are examples that exist in our very own environment that have largely been uncritically adapted and multiplied. Would architectural historians discard 'type' as a legitimate frame of analysis in this vein?

The opening up of new frames of architectural analysis must not reject the older ones. In this case, there is no need to denigrate the scholarship of 'style' in order to bring to force the analytical order of 'type'. Historians must be generous in accepting new frames of references through which the object of architecture can yield knowledge. The rejection of one over the other is a modern symptom which flattens interpretation to singular way of living and thinking. If we consider ornament as an integral part of building, what kind of building could we craft? Does the over-emphasis of type force us to think of buildings as an organization of spaces, rather than its craft? How can we marry craft with type, how can we marry ornament with construction in a meaningful way - not simply as an application, but as a way of space making? And in that case, is there a way to bridge the discourses of 'style' and 'type' for a more wholesome architectural history?


I have not detailed here the definition of 'style' or 'type' and the theoretical discourse around them. However, I expect that the readers will look into their histories and the criticism around them. 

Writing Architecture / Death of Architecture

I spent my weekend in Ahmedabad over a panel discussion on 'Writing Architecture' organized as a part of the 'Death of Architecture' programming. The panelists I shared the conversation with were Miki Desai (architectural historian), Sameera Rathod (editor, SPADE), Shiny Varghese (Journalist), Meghal Arya (academician). The session was moderated by Sachin Shah, faculty at CEPT. Panel discussions are often blind games, if you do not know what you are going to be asked. They almost seem like vivas that induce immense pressure on giving engaging answers  as well as inform audiences about the topic at hand. However, a theme like 'writing architecture' often becomes too generic if not held within a framed question. For example, one could look at the architectural writing in the last 20 years, or architectural writing and its relationship with new media, or emerging forms of writing and critical discourse in contemporary architecture. Further, these could be looked at through very specific examples, or works by panelists, which can be questioned within a critical framework in a forum. Without such a framework, often such discussions become freewheeling conversations through keywords derived from a broad conversation in order to keep things going for the duration of the talk. The conversation at the Death of Architecture on 'Writing Architecture' seemed to liminally rely on the panelists' improvisation to the questions posed. It is important for the moderator to have a position(s) in the background of which the responses of panelists could be understood, or through which a debate, and dialogue can be nurtured.  Else, the talk becomes lament which everyone feels happy about. It is important for panel discussions to enter, even if performatively, the form of soft debate which provokes the audience to think through new ideas, or articulate new positions. While the moderator, in his humble attempt, threw reasonably open questions, I felt the discussion lacked spark. It was largely lost to thinking of writing as a way of reflection, introspection or criticism. However, the dimension of experience of writing and reading architecture was completely missed out. If one considers that writing constructs an experience through the employment of form/style, technique, content, tone and media, what criticalities must one expect from the writers of today? What has been the impact of writing? And how must one write today?In general, one needs to review on the form and content of writing in order to have a crisp discussion on the politics and agency of writing/writers today. While I have mentioned on other platforms, the avenues that have opened up for writers today, and the increased demand for writing - one needs to understand what is the subject, content, quality and kind of writing that is being produced? What purpose does it cater to? Whom are architectural writers writing for? How, after all, has writing suddenly become a viable and valid profession in the contemporary time in India? An analysis into textual production through these questions would allow us to map the different trajectories of the practices of writing today. Further, how have they addressed the practice - of profession or academia needs to be understood. One of the key questions to address is that of readership. What kind of books have come through over the last two decades in architecture? What kind of writing do people like to consume and why? Who are the best selling (contemporary) writers and how are they writing? What are the shifts in voices that write? Sachin rightly pointed out that on an average, an individual today reads more content in a day than one ever did, say even two decades ago. How does reading so much (often unnecessary, informative) content shape the reader today? What is the psychological and phenomenological experience of reading in the contemporary times? How are these shifts reflecting in the subjects and objects of architectural writing today?There are a lot of questions that could be jotted down, however, they would remain ambiguous unless we take up concrete examples to elucidate what it means to be textual today. Further, how is architecture being written today? One of the interesting ideas that came up through the discussion was if writing could be considered as a legitimate communicative form through which architecture could be conceptualized and constructed. Working through the example of archival drawings of the Manavendra Palace in Jaipur, that were mere diagrams with a scribbled set of poem-like notes - I tried to suggest that the form of representation, synonymous to "architectural drawing" today - that which consists of orthographic plans and sections, is fairly recent and even a colonial legacy. Were all buildings in history realised through drawings? And following the notes of Jaipur building archives, could one mobilize forms of writing as possible communicative tools for alternative spatial articulation?

Drawing from City Palace Archives, Jaipur, (MSMS II Museum) with written instructions on construction.

Drawing from the City Palace Archives, Jaipur (MSMS II Museum) with written instructions on construction. 

Meghal Arya pointed out the often-embeddedness of academic writing in architectural jargon and unnecessary references, and her preference of the essay-form which allows her to contemplate while weaving through relevant examples. Riyaz Tayyibji suggested to preserve the sanctity of the disciplinary writing - that which constitutes the very discourse of architecture. However, my response was to expand the frame of "disciplinary" to knowledge production in general, and not restrict to architecture. Instead of making the discourse so exclusive, the discipline of architecture could productively borrow concepts and terms from many other disciplines (as much as lending its own terms to) in order to expand the manner in which space is otherwise narrated and understood today. Such a method would demand participation and dialogue with other disciplines,  making architectural discourse more inclusive as well as enabling and amenable to other professions. My principal point however was, that students no longer related to the voice in which architecture has been narrated so far. Contemporary histories must find voices that resonate with the language which this generation is more conversant and comfortable with. The tapping of writing forms that get shaped through new media must be understood and strategised within more serious writing projects. This could be a way of involving younger audiences into both writing as well as reading, ultimately architectural conversations. Historians of architecture need to update the methods and materials, along with the narrative forms they employ in architectural research. Space is no longer in habited through the morality of romantic socialism of nationalism, narratives against which so much architecture in India is always backdropped. The recent excess of discussions in this field have also been around informality and impermanence. These have been substantial formulations, and they certainly hold value. However, how must architects narrate these stories to their community and larger audiences, beyond blind lament, empty critique or indulgent introspections? Those narrations may perhaps shape new experiences through writing.

On Kitchens (India)

On Kitchens \\ Architectural Digest


CONVERSATION 1


1. How have kitchens changed from the time of Independence to present times vis a vis - its, shape, size, lighting, how it is located within a house, attachments, equipment?

It is important to note the practice of cooking and its resultant spatial implications on the planning of the house, when studying the Indian condition. Historically, cooking spaces must have been a ground activity where much aspects of food: from preparation to eating would take place on the floor of the house. In India, floor allowed the kitchens to become more social, allowing women to get together easily towards preparation and sharing of work. Apartment living comes into our milieu by the early 1920s, when the kitchen gets formalised into a room within the house. Early modern kitchens (in India) already usurp the terrestrial kitchen to a raised platform, making the sitting women stand. They also transform the kitchen activity into a sort of "assembly-line" : cutting-cooking-washing! The linear platforms bring in a new idea of organization and sanitation but at the same time complicate the hierarchical relationships of gender, caste, class w.r.t. the ideas of sacred and profane.

Several older apartment plans will show more than one door to the house - one for the toilet cleaners, one for the maid and the last for the owner. Thus kitchens would have their own service doors to keep the maids or cleaners (who belonged to a lower class) separate. Modernity thus got assimilated with deep contradictions.

For a long time, cylinder was the key object of the kitchen, around which storage spaces were planned. Steel utensil organizers can still be seen in some households. Refrigerators and ovens changed the planning of the kitchen significantly - and made the presence of electrical points within the space essential. The geography of the kitchen changed after the introduction of the piped gas, and the rapid take over of the modular furnitures. In recent times, one sees the shrinking size of the kitchens in the planning of apartments. The kitchen is seen as a mere functional space where social interactions within the house do not take place. Hence, their space is released into the other areas of the house. Dining - which once was a table, has now become a "Space" within the house. One often sees the dining notches carved out in living rooms in present-day apartments very evidently.


2. When did the change start from broad, expansive kitchens to smaller versions - both in India and abroad, what influenced this change?

Several socio-economic dynamics have also affected the way in which kitchens are imagined. Seen as an activity that does not contribute to the capitalistic process directly, household cooking (and therefore the kitchen) is often undervalued space, reduced to a storehouse. Such a move has serious implications that need to be studied. Moreover, one needs to understand how it gets gendered and further, what socio-cultural rubrics it operates within different castes and classes across different regions within India.



3. How popular are open kitchens in present times? What is the reason for the popularity and when did this change start taking place?

Open kitchens allow to merge smaller spaces into a large one, and help releasing space. In patriarchal setups however, where households operate on strict rules for women, kitchens are still not opened out to the public parts of the house (like the living room). The open kitchen perhaps became a way to symbolically claim values of modern living and lifestyle. Although having an open kitchen would necessitate its organized look at feel, forcing attention towards hygiene and cleanliness.



4. Do you think that traditional modes of cooking and equipment are now in danger of disappearing forever with the change in the size of kitchens? is it good or not desirable?

Is there a monolithic traditional mode of cooking? I am wondering what values are you trying to invoke in the traditional? Instead of the fear of disappearing, we must looking at the process of cultural transformation of the kitchen and its resultant effect on the human body. Improved amenities within the kitchens have certainly brought more dignity to the person who operated the kitchen - in our case, primarily the woman. If modern amenities are able to release time for women to participate or engage equally in activities that she could not pursue before, then such transition is welcome. If we are able to ascertain what values of the tradition and traditional equipment do we wish to retain, we may be able to bring it to our modern lives and amenities. However, traditional modes of cooking and equipment may also be deeply feudal and gendered and for once, we must consider the virtue of their disappearance too!


5. The concept of mess kitchens or work areas to supplement the kitchen space seems to be in vogue now, can you tell us a little about this?

Such spaces can only work within extremely communal societies. With strict ideas of the sacred and profane within the different classes and castes, food is a complicated affair in Indian social space. Community kitchens have been experimented in many places, but most operate within a single caste-group (you can think of the langars in Gurudwaras). I do not know about the "mess kitchens" that you point out.



CONVERSATION 2

Hi Anuj,

A quick clarification - I am not really sure what you mean by this:

The linear platforms bring in a new idea of organization and sanitation but at the same time complicate the hierarchical relationships of gender, caste, class w.r.t. the ideas of sacred and profane.

Please can you let me know what you mean by this?

Thanks




Dear Fehmida,

In older traditions, the processes of cutting, cleaning and cooking were often dispersed into different locations of the house. The house itself wasn't a BHK type (apartment type). These locations indexed certain hierarchical relationships that structured the overall process of consumption. With the introduction of the modern kitchen, all these different activities are streamlined into one room, more specifically onto a single platform counter. Interior designers and space planning manuals will tell you how these need to be organized for efficient functioning of the kitchen in modern homes. Thus, we see these kitchen counters with a space for preparation, cooking and washing (in that order) provided in a line - almost like an assembly line fashion. Such planning of the kitchen is generalized within newly built apartments to which, residents have to stick to (despite their alternative cooking practices). Those who can afford, alter their kitchens in order to continue older customs. However, within the standardized geography of modern homes (BHK type), these changes do not really offer much scope, and the most optimum solution is to stick to the linear platform.

The linear platform forces, to be sure, the people involved in cooking to be on the same counter. Given the deeply culturally coded gender roles in our heteronormative society, the kitchen can be seen as an instrument of divide or unision - for in the progressive, liberal families, the man and woman will be able to work together, however, in more conservative and traditional families, the kitchen will remain the domain of the woman, pushing the man out. This is my theoretical speculation.

Secondly, a lot of households still follow ideas of 'jhootha' or 'aitha' - which indicates that any thing eaten or partly eaten (even tasted / anything touched to the mouth, or touched with an impure hand) should not be mixed with the fresh stock - including vessels that contain them. The water pot is sacred, for it is worshiped and changed every year on an auspicious day. The used dishes and plates should be kept away as a matter of hygiene. The platform with the embedded sink does two things here: 1. It mixes up these "used/dirty" utensils with the fresh ones. The sink is also the place from where you draw water to clean things - thus the place of cleansing is also the place that accommodate the unclean. 2. The maids (who are often seen as a lower class, may also belong to lower class) now come on the same platform for cleaning the vessels. Traditionally, the place of cleaning would be outside or away from the cooking space.

Again, these are my theoretical speculations.

I hope you now understand my point on the complication of hierarchical relationships of gender, caste and/or class. One can present many case studies to bring out different shades of how modern apartment kitchens negotiate or work out these differences.

Let me know if this helps.

Best.

Anuj.

On Architectural Writing // interview by Shriti Das

Alternatives: Anuj Daga and Sharmila Chakravorty clarify whys and hows of Architectural Writing























The country has eminent architecture schools and equally prestigious media institutes. But did the two ever meet, formally? Not really. Architectural writing is not only gaining momentum in the media and architectural fraternity but is also an important tool that communicates design to architects, other professionals, enthusiasts and the masses. CQ speaks to Anuj Daga, an architect/writer, and Sharmila Chakravorty, a media professional, who write on art, architecture, design and allied disciplines about the many questions and misconceptions that riddle architectural writing.

The above edited interview can be found here

Full responses below: 

1. In a field as visual/tactile based as design, how does writing play a role?

If we can agree that all built spaces tell stories, then writing perhaps might be the most direct and effective way of narrating them. To write about design is to release a range of invisible nuances that an object may not lend you easily. The writer allows users to read new forms in which the work might be appreciated across history and geography, and thus makes the act of design democratic and universal.


2. How is design writing different from journalistic or story writing?

It’s not. Design writing can take different forms including journalistic or a novella. In most successful instances, it will bring critical attention to human acts and the manner in which they shape their ideas into material.


3. How did your design education help in this field?

Design education lent me a range of tools through which one may begin to articulate aesthetic experience. It opens up to a range of methods and parameters to appreciate things around us. Of course, these keep on changing and evolving with time. For example, ‘proportion’ and ‘scale’ were important parameters of assessing architecture that were introduced through design education. Today these parameters may seem archaic given that we experience much of space through media and the virtual. This example also illustrates how architectural and design history maps the shaping of our choices today and are deeply embedded in certain cultural and technological conditions of time itself.


4. How do you perceive a building critically and analyse it?

A sensitive observer necessarily has a deep sense of “self”, which is shaped through the cultural and social factors around himself / herself. Noted French literary figure Geroges Bataille once said that “Architecture is the expression of the very being of societies, just as human physiognomy is the expression of the being of individuals.” Simply understood, he meant to suggest that just like physical features of human beings may tell about their character and behavior, buildings express the aspirations and intentions of a society. The parallel between body and the building is compelling, and often, the process of perceiving a building is to understand one’s own experience within it with sensitivity and awareness.


5. How do you write about a building that doesn’t appeal to you or incline with your personal design belief?

More often than not, an unappealing project is an opportunity to expand my own limits of aesthetic experience. Often when I encounter an art object which I do not relate to, I have to inform myself about the cultural context it comes from. While the research helps in opening up new dimensions of seeing, it is also a reminder about one’s own cultural positioning, and the compulsive need to broaden it. Besides, design beliefs, like our very identities are malleable and transform themselves with time and experience.


6. It is believed that practicing design has more “scope” than writing about design – in terms of career, money, stability. In your experience, how true is that?

It is high time that we discard prejudiced cultural baggage we carry from a certain pre-liberal India and acknowledge contemporary architecture’s expanded field where the figure of the master architect continues to get blurred by a range of allied design practitioners who equally partake in shaping the final experience of any object or space. Besides, in the wake of increasing media and internet consciousness, conventional practices are realizing the value of archiving and communication. Given this change and there is more scope for design writing now, than ever. To the least, one can say that conventional building practice runs the same risks as design writers. Good projects will seek good writers. However, in order to bring value, design thinking, and writing has to take centre stage in education process.


7. What would your advice be to someone starting out in design writing?
Much of our design institutes (in India) are not equipped in introducing students to design theory. It is important that those interested in writing have a theoretical and analytical bent, so as to clearly present arguments about experience of an object/space rather than descriptive reviews that are often evident in their visual documentation. Focused reading and writing helps sharpening one’s own voice and way of looking. With ample written / visual content and free courses available on the internet by renowned universities, one must look forward to introduce themselves and expand their existing ways of thinking.

Shakuntala Kulkarni / Julus / Chemould Prescott Road

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published in Art India, July 2018

Women at War

Ornaments and items of armour in Shakuntala Kulkarni’s works present a measured tension between tenderness and aggression, claims Anuj Daga.



Ornamenting the self is an act of de-familiarization. It rearticulates the surface of the body into new outlines. At Chemould Prescott Road, Mumbai, in Julus and Other Stories, Shakuntala Kulkarni mobilizes these aspects of the ornament while also exploring its other characteristics like protection and decoration. The show, from the 13th of March to the 7th of April, comprises chalk drawings, photographs, cane armour and ornaments along with a video within which the artist inhabits these idea-forms.

The viewer is greeted with an array of cane armour objects and adornments presented like disembodied parts. Masks, cages, shields, headgears, bands, earrings, laces – all woven in cane in variegated shapes and forms – suggest different ways of covering and securing the body.

The use of cane domesticates adornment as well as armoury. Their exchange or utilitarian values are removed, making them amenable for the everyday. The work quietly blurs questions of sentimentality and security within each other. It brings us to consider the politics of adornment and armoury in unintended but clever ways. In several cultures, for example, strategic parts of clothing are embroidered so as to ward off the evil eye. If such an analogy is extended to ornaments and their location, decoration and their bodily fixation, it creates a space of distraction through which a politics of defence may be softly mobilized. On the other hand, locating cane armour within several delicately woven jewelleries at once mellows the aggression contained in the objects of war. The measured tension between tenderness and aggression begins to mediate a new understanding of power.

The wall-projected video animates the objects and drawings and brings them to life. The artist’s enactment – assuming new postures within the sinuous cane frameworks – gives rise to the experience of the female body adorned as well as trapped within the creations. Perhaps, it is here that a larger commentary on the subject of gender emerges in the artist’s work. Within which kinds of apparatuses is the narrative and social status of women enmeshed today? How does one challenge these frameworks and what kind of orientations can these questions have towards action and re-identification? Kulkarni’s chalk drawings offer studies presenting histories of ornament usage; they also trace the transformation of the ornament into a weapon on the path of claiming the powerful, performative self.