It is inevitable that human civilisation will self-destruct at some point in time. Then the cycle will start all over again. Hunting-gathering, rudimentary tools, stone age, bronze age, iron age, nuclear age and so on. At a future date, when they excavate, they might find a beautiful structure at present-day Bannerghatta in Bengaluru. There would be inexplicable stone structures spanning an area of present-day 54,000 sqm. It might look like this:
They will be surprised at some of the similarities of the structures to two other structures found quite far away. They wouldn’t know that these latter were called Fatehpur Sikri and Madurai temple today. They will be amazed at the structures’ spatial synthesis and energy efficiency with passive cooling strategies. The facilitation of natural light and ventilation will take their breath away. Every so often, the lines of the architecture will baffle them because they will see sudden changes of scale and occasional breakings of corridors; however, the structure would make sense when taken as a whole.
What they wouldn’t know is that the whole complex was designed to foster an environment of learning and interaction. If they reconstruct the buildings with lush surroundings they will find the whole complex leaning on a sequence of spatial experiences. The overall sequence of movement – from the lush, open campus to the semi-open corridors and eventually to the more enclosed and protected spaces would generate multiple threshold conditions. These unique locations in the plan would allow the functional spaces to interact and assimilate more freely with the overall theme, creating fluid and easy connections between the spaces for movement and the spaces for work.
They wouldn’t know the genius of the architect, Balkrishna Vithaldas Doshi for whom, “Architecture was an extension of the body, and it was where the mind dwelt.” Like all Doshi’s creation, this structure, with its harmonious blend of traditional Indian and modern architectural elements would be seen but the underlying philosophy would escape those in the future. They may not know that the design ethos was to create a space that transcended the physical boundaries of buildings, encouraging openness and fluidity, seamlessly integrating indoor and outdoor spaces, facilitating a dialogue between nature and built form. The structure would be representative of architectural norms at a time when the country was on the cusp of embracing modernity.
They may well surmise a few things, e.g., that it was a place of learning, but they wouldn’t know how, by creating an atmosphere where one didn’t see divides and doors, it promoted a sense of community among the students and faculty. How the courtyards, corridors, and fenestrations were meticulously designed to facilitate natural light and ventilation, creating a conducive atmosphere for education and contemplation. How the inclusive spaces encouraged creativity and interaction. How the campus blended historical inspirations and modern functionality, making it a unique example of how architecture could bridge the past and the present. Or how over a career spanning six decades, Doshi created such a profound impact on the architectural fraternity and society at large that he was awarded the prestigious Pritzker Architecture Prize (frequently referred to as the Nobel prize of architecture) in 2018, becoming the first Indian to receive this honour.
Above all, they wouldn’t know how the campus and the buildings housed a beacon of academic excellence called IIMB
which nourished such a large number of world leaders and how enormously the
architecture contributed to that process. They also wouldn’t know that although
the institute was already 10 years old then, the author’s batch was the first
one in that campus.
As usual,your writing is insightful ,lucid and polished.
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DeleteHi Dash, Loved the blog. It's so innovatively written.
ReplyDeleteShakti Ghosal
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