SNDT Campus Mumbai - Charles Correa

I just realised that there is no image of the lovely SNDT Campus anywhere on the internet that was designed by Charles Correa! I pulled out these images from my ages old archive when the Cinema City Exhibition was hosted here. These are randomly taken images that catch glimpses of the campus. 

The Politics of Curation

Yesterday in an intense discussion with Aditya (Sawant) and Deepti (Talpade), we came to question the constitution of the position of a Curator. Aditya's argument was that the act of curation was a self-legitimised enactment of power. He questioned where, after all, does the curator derive validation for the works he selects to be a part of any exhibition. Who testifies his knowledge and how does it gain currency?

To be sure, his observation sat well within a Marxist framework. In the increasingly capitalising art world, curators are often appointed on the basis of their potential to bring sufficient funds for / to any project. In this situation, the power of the curator is constituted in the role of administering and managing money that mobilises the exhibition activity.

Aditya went on to say that a specific framing of any event by a curator fundamentally starts shifting the nature in which the artist himself/herself sees one's own work. Thus, it impacts the true nature of the evolution of an artist, giving in to a relationship that has been established between the organiser (curator) and the producer (artist).

Dipti however expanded to say that every position, in that notion would be an enactment of power. At the same time, there would be many curatorial acts which donot necessarily fall merely within the logic of economics. While many of these network relationships have come to feed into the present structure of several art events, there are scenarios in which curators do not necessarily impact the producer's work.

We debated a lot on the role of the curator, and the underpinnings of executing art exhibitions today. Much of it seemed like intellectual masturbation. But thinking back, I just thought it might be worthwhile to put down the arguments for a future date.

Three words of confuse and concern

Didactic: Intended to teach, particularly in having moral instruction as an ulterior motif.

Pedantic: Excessively concerned with minor details or rules, too instructional

Pedagogic: Relating to teaching.

Word Affinities sourced from:

http://visuwords.com/

The Advancement of Learning

"The registering and proposing of doubts has a double use: one use is a straightforward use - it guides us against errors. The second use involves the role of doubts in initiating a process of enquiry which has the effect of enriching our investigations."

-Francis Bacon, The Advancement of Learning, 1605

More Reflections / AD Jury at SEA

What is a School?

We never really asked that question over the semester. And how do we ask it architecturally? When we ask "what is a school?" in an architecture studio, what are we really asking? Or, what do they really ask, when architects ask "what is a school?" Are they asking how a school functions as an organization, or are they asking questions about pedagogy, or are they asking about the process of education, or the way in which knowledge is transferred? Or are they asking about the way in which knowledge is a spatial function - that to do with the design of the surroundings and its knowledge, and how the structuring of space aids a certain kind of educative process, or how the building environment teaches you, inculcates a rhythm or discipline amongst its learners, or how a good environment impacts the process of learning...
What when the question of designing a school is inscribed within the urban question? What is a school in an urban area? What schools does urbanity need? How does urbanity school us? Is school a function of urbanity? Do schools shape up through forces of the city? Does the urban mould knowledge differently? 

How does the urban, after all, influence architecture? How does the experience of the city find way into an individual, and further the built form? Are the users of city space conscious of the constructed experiences they live in? How do we even ascertain that and map such subjectivities? How are these processes relevant for design processes, and who validates them?

Teaching architecture within the question of the urban almost always ends up in an obsessive reproduction of the city. What is the obsession of urban designers to represent and draw the city as close to it as possible? What is the joy of doubling up the city through its reproductions like drawings, models and diagrams - those which also begin to turn life into an object - the pretty looking portraits and models?

There is a moment when the drawing makes the city more pretty than it actually is. This imagined prettyness soon takes over the reality of design processes, rather takes the reality of design into an imaginary space where laws of the land no longer stand valid. The personal morality works thereby, defying and destroying existing buildings and forms that do not follow the logic of the self created order. However, only those working on the field will be able to say how knocking off buildings, even if hypothetical, is non ethical. A faculty quite rightly pointed out: "These are the crises of the urban context. We have to understand them instead of defying them."

What position do you take when you actually choose to ignore the difficulties of the urban condition? In a "what-if" scenario, isn't one actually escaping the urban condition. In such a situation, the city studio focus becomes almost pointless, because in the first place, you have tweaked the city into your own personal imagination, which in effect makes you work as if you are working on a blank slate. Is the studio about creating real life solutions or imaginary engagements? This dilemma can be answered in many ways. However, what we have to decide is whether we want to engage with the difficulties of the city as it is, or as we would like the difficulty to be? (Yes, I am hinting that we begin to imagine our difficulties too, a hypothetical problem for a hypothetical solution).

Do we want to use the city merely as a backdrop, an artefact for our architectural projects; or do we want to engage into its conditions that pose a unique problem? Until the end, I was not able to to figure if we did really want to engage with the difficulties at all. It was not clear if we were testing the real or experimenting the imaginary... What after all was the "thrust" of the "city" studio? 

Is the city just studied to give us theoretical and physical handles for one;s design methods even if these designs may clearly be insular for the city dynamics? Can the final design, evolved from a "method of the city" be called "urban" and serving the city? What after all do we make of the urban context?

What do we mean when we talk of a city studio? Is a city studio about different kinds of urban responses? For example, in a dense fabric, you can

• clear the site and build
• build with/over existing fabric
• redesign the existing building
• create and intervene with a "what-if" scenario
• just propose a program
• create a temporary structure
• change laws
• rework circulation
• change character of buildings

and so on.

All the above are different design responses, and all of these seem equally pragmatic - some executed within the framework within the bye laws, other for which laws are released or eased. There could have been an academic inquiry within these different methods of urban intervention. The studio did not delve into any of these. I would like to pose, finally, what are the ethics of urban intervention?

Students made designs, ending up into an engagement in architectural form, and further how they can be theoretically read to respond to the city. We teach them story telling, most of the time. It takes much more courage to build architecture that is pragmatically possible but also theoretically tight. But theory can not become a matter of convenience, or a handle for story telling. Every one bought something from the process. Of course. But does it make them into a better architect, or a story teller? I wonder!

The Power of Cynicism

Cynicism creates a moment of dissent that is serious yet not harmful.

NOBO - North Bombay

Before I left for the USA, I remember obsessively capturing the city spaces in my phone camera. It was a ritual for me to empty the hundreds of pictures I would click every month into a well organised folder structure in my computer drive. I have more than about 2000 uncategorised pictures of the city and things I was clicking in general. I wasn't really a photographer, am not one even now. But there was something that I was "seeing" in the city then - something that interested me.

For my first year in the US, I took a lot of pictures too. Initially it was the newness of the place as well as the new phone that I was perhaps exploring. However by the second year and the end of my stay in the country, I started feeling too bored to take pictures. The place became boring to shoot. Moreover, it was so pretty that I was fed up of it. Further I also feel it was so strictly planned and each piece of architecture was so meticulously designed that it forced a certain kind of structured gaze of the camera. One could only shot those buildings in a particular way else they wouldn't give you the "right" effect.

After I came back in India, I have hardly photographed the place I encounter while traveling, essentially the northern suburbs. I have now been back for two years in Mumbai, and have merely added two more folders with a few pics added to the collection. In the beginning I was wondering if I have just grown out of the phenomenon of taking pictures. I thought that i had done it enough and would just be taking photographs for the heck of it.

Today, for some reason I feel that it is more about the part of city I traverse to and the mode in which I travel that has caused me to look at the city space quite differently. Unlike earlier, I travel to the north of the city instead of the south now. Essentially I move against the dominant motion of the city every morning. In some ways it is great because I escape almost all traffic and also that the place is much closer to my house. However what I have also come to realize is that actually the morning train travel to South of the city was much more interesting and visually appealing than the current northward journey.

Over my train journey to Dadar from Goregaon (North to South Bombay), for example, I would get actively engaged in looking at the emerging constructions  and perpetually changing landscapes along the railways. I could see the incomplete buildings, layers of landscapes at a vantage points, old and new fabrics juxtaposed, the geometrical architecture of the stations framing the city, the follies of unused redundant platform structures, and so on. Moving through Dadar every morning too, was a fascinating encounter with hundreds of commuters as well as shopkeepers setting their stalls around the precinct. The walk offered one of the most intimate sensorial experiences. From the school (Rachna Sansad), one could see at a distance the way in which new architecture was slowly transforming the low rise, sloping roof settlements. Seeing this kind of a change as a distant observer allowed thought to constantly reel in the head.

The northern suburbs, on the other hand, have a very different vibe. Awkwardly fussy, the places are hard to fathom. There's no particular architectural character to any of the northern suburbs. Indeed there are sub cultures but as an urban form, all are pretty uniform. Moving through the suburbs is no exciting task. Most of these suburbs have taken upon them hideous-looking and bulky infrastructures like the skywalks that, while allowing you to trespass the chaos on ground, become endless bland corridors with little scope for human activity. Over my road journey don't get to see any thing, besides the glass malls and cellular residential complexes - those that become more and more gated day by day. There are no public buildings so to say, except the aesthetically devoid institutions like police stations and ward offices.

I don't know how to describe this loss - for the reasons are compounded. Firstly, I have not seen any thing worthwhile in the north, and that has resulted in a poor photo-documentation of the place! I wouldn't know what to talk about the stretch even if I took pictures of what I see around me! Such factors immediately point us to think - what architectural value does the northern Bombay hold for any one? Beyond the Prithvi Theatre or Juhu Beach in Andheri, one can hardly count any places of public interest in the north-western part of the city. Cultural institutions like Dinanath Mangeshkar hall, or many similar spaces are not designed to be public in nature. Acutely closed off to the public, cladded in glass and aluminium curtain walls, these precincts repel people physically as well as visually.

Other places such as the Film City has forever been closed to locals. The BNHS and the national park are the natural reserves that have become mere functional recreational landscapes for most. Besides, these are not places that are easily accessible to everyone, especially those who live beyond the railway lines towards the West. In addition, these are hardly places where communal events for the city can be organized. A common cultural space where people can spend their time, loiter, engage in art, music, dance and such other activities is almost absent in this part of the city. Lacking cultural infrastructure, the north remains dormant, and garners no interest amongst the youth, who prefer to travel south for their recreational cravings.

I have also come to believe that in the absence of such events and happening, there is something distinctly identifiable as a "north-bombay mentality" - a deeply middle class, bourgeoisie world view that thinks of the south as work and the north as living. The students' worldviews (having taught at Rachna Sansad which attracted students from all over the city) differ, their ambitions differ - most of the times much narrow. These are repercussions of a space that suffers low cultural value in its built as well as intellectual environment.

It is true that these observations have become starker after witnessing the "suburbia" in the West. For a long time, "suburban" was a term so close to me that I never read as "sub-urban" but "su-bur-ban". It might sound laughable to the readers, but that the "sub-urban" becomes a second-grade life of the urban; a step down in hierarchy of environment, a "less happening" (as my sister-in-law would point out, who grew up in South Mumbai) place became evident to me only through my alienated experience of the American suburbia, removed from my own. Yet, the American suburbia is much more polarised than what we live in, and I will spare that comparison for a different time. Meanwhile, I look for ways in which I can make the northern suburbs of Bombay more interesting for myself, beyond the adventures of Essel World, Water Kingdom and the Golden Pagoda!

Tree house in National Park

Designed by a young tribal boy in National Park, this is one of the finest and most organic tree house I have witnessed in real. I have not seen (m)any tree houses, but of the several designs I often see on the internet, the labour of love and inventiveness in the working out of many details of this shelter is evident. The house is literally supported on tree branches, and the access to it happens through a ladder crafted into the branches, sometimes nooks of the tree itself.

As you reach up, you are taken into a series of enclosures that are formed by woven mats, karvy walls, and the tree itself. Windows and doors are framed using discarded wood frames of urban houses. There are several rooms on the first floor, along with a cot as well as a washing cistern (lying dysfunctional). Each room generously opens to the outside or a balcony appropriately scaled to the tree. The house is cozy, yet comfortable.

Overall, the house becomes a gateway, allowing people to pass through it. It is a marvellous piece of architecture. We are told that a leapord had once climbed up the house and fell down as it rested on the edge of its balcony. After that, the house lies abandoned in fear of animals. We climbed up the house to relive the imagination of this young untrained architect.

Art at Vile Parle

Our students painting the Vile Parle Station Overbridge. Ideas from Sol Lewitt's instructions taken one step further along with colour palettes from Wes Anderson movies.
People walking along seeing the art work are enjoying the shapes and colours. An middle-aged guy paused and asked - "Is a bird going to fly up from here"? Art makes people think in new directions. Good art provokes the appreciation of everyday surroundings.

Lines like tracks become clouds and blend in the air. Reminding of speeding trains with puking smoke, the art work connects back nostalgic entry of the steam engine into the city 150 years ago, yet in a celebratory, contemporary spirit. Colours of the day and night, compliment the environment around as well as themselves within the canvas.

Many more readings. However, later!

On the inauguration day: