Dialogues in Architecture: Ar.Rajnish Wattsas and Ar. Rahul Mehrotra

Rajnish Wattas: Is the 21st century architect truly the global agent of change of the built-form and a visionary anymore? However, most architects today—besides some star architects—are merely tools for big builders to fulfil their agendas of ‘impatient capital’ that propel the projects…

Rahul Mehrotra: Architects working in India, as well as many other parts of the globe, actually confront these same questions and challenges in terms of their role in society. Acute disparity compounded by rapidly transforming social, cultural and physical landscapes in a globalising world further makes fuzzy the role of the professional architect who feels marginalised. I think finally it’s a question of the model of practice we employ in different locations. What complicates this is that today on a global scale, architecture practice is pandering to capital in unprecedented ways and, in the process, creating the architecture and urbanism of impatient capital. It has its operating logic; capital, though sometimes assuming patient forms as in universities or foundations, is intrinsically unwilling to wait. Developers manage this capital and architects and then co-opted to manifest this capital quickly in the form of real estate. This impatience, more often than not, creates buildings and urban forms which are whimsical, vendor-driven for ease of speed of construction, and clearly heightening the autonomy of architecture as an object in the city. I suppose this is also a relevant model of practice!? In any case, in India and perhaps everywhere in the world, the conventional forms of practice are being seen as ineffective or are being challenged in terms of their relevance. In some context, conventional forms of praxis which have to do with architects imagining themselves as artist and often by extension prima donnas that bravely lead the way is becoming increasingly irrelevant given the nature of problems that surround us today.

And then there is an imagination of the profession that is often obsessed with specialisation or disciplinary boundaries which are also challenged in the context of the wicked problems that are more than not the norm rather than the exception. At the other end of the spectrum, is a model of practice where architects become the facilitator or a manager of constituencies and sometime projects as we know them become self-initiated and are not about a client knocking at your door to solicit your services. In fact, this is a reversal of how we imagine practice. This is important because I believe the biggest challenge for the profession will be how to once again engage with the broader landscape, rather than choosing to operate within the specificity of a site or a particular problem, leading to a disconnect with the broader context of practice.

But I think the bottom line is that for any profession to be relevant, it has to be connected to and in service of the problems of society. I think In India we are as a profession losing sight of this. Our preoccupations are then what gets celebrated in the press and by extension architectural journals is largely the architecture of indulgence– where a large portion of our energy as a profession is going and we will finally be judged by where our energy goes. Whereas, the real problems on the ground have to do with disparities, poverty, inequity, etc, all perpetuated by great measure by the form of the built environment, and this is where our energy should be going. Finally, we will be judged by this for our relevance in society. I don’t believe we are doing very well on this count!

R W: You’re a great votary of ‘Ephemeral City’ with studies of ‘Kumbh-City’ in India. But can the ‘Kinetic City’ be of any lasting role in urbanisation—besides being a temporary/ interim habitation?
R M: Actually I am not interested in the temporary or kinetic per say or as a solution. My argument in these writings is to make a space for the temporal landscapes which are crucial in understanding urbanism in India. They could potentially teach us about transitions. Transitions, the design of which will be crucial for India to create finally a viable form of urbanisation and by extension robust habitation paradigms. The question then becomes: how do we design for the transitions we are experiencing in our urban landscapes in India for that matter across the globe? I am not at all saying that we should use the temporary urbanism as an alternative mode of urbanisation. But instead, I am interested in provoking the profession to react to the ‘absolute’ nature of our thinking in both the profession as well as in the government’s imagination of cities and built form. I am arguing against permanence being a default condition in the imagining of architecture and urban form.

So, the research we have been doing on the ephemeral or my writings on the idea of the Kinetic City is intend to merely ‘infect’ the discussion about cities with a plea to take also the temporal landscape more seriously. I believe there is much to learn and especially in how we can design for the space and condition of transitions. If you think about it, in planning and urban design or for that matter architecture we have no tools or at least not well-developed tools to deal with the notion of time. Landscape architects are better equipped in this regard because they deal with ‘life’ or at least plant life in much more direct ways. Architects and planners tend to abstract life as something that will occupy their creation and often not as co-producers in the design process. Landscape architects have no choice I suppose! So, I think the ephemeral urbanism has, I believe, a lot to teach us. In fact, the issues that could be negotiated and extracted from this form of ephemeral urbanism are as diverse as memory, geography, infrastructure, sanitation, public health governance and ecology. In studying these landscapes, one realises that these parameters unfold their projective potential offering alternatives not only for rethinking cases within the boundaries of an ephemeral urbanism but also of how to embed softer but perhaps more robust systems in more permanent cities. This is finally the aspiration of the research which has been captured in the book titled– Does Permanence Matter?

R W: Even slum dwellers have aspirations and hope to have pukka homes. Your comments…

R M: Absolutely! And how are we responding by making permanent slums? And this is where the notion of designing for transitions becomes a critical question for all of us in the profession and also the nation. Sometimes transitions take us in different and non-obvious directions. So, in the question of slums the PAYs schemes are an example of an absolute aspiration and solution. Let’s build 20 million homes over night!? This is not really and even possible. But we want absolute solution that translates into absolute numbers because today for the state it is a statistical architecture of numbers (GDPs, etc) that define identity and success and not place making. The question is what will these new imaginations look like? The hesitation with not employing absolute solutions is that architects and governments can’t control the final form or the aesthetics of what results. The ‘aesthetic anxiety’ is the fundamental question one has to deal with in the design of transitions. In the urban form and aesthetics of these cities are also embedded critical questions of values and political ideologies. For example, the prominent typology in India is the ‘self-built or auto constructed’, often low-rise high density and by people who want to be a part of an urban economy and bring their own capital– largely human capital or labour. Yet we don’t plan for this? In fact, for me the old sites and service schemes or the projects for incremental housing (of which the most celebrated were Aryaana by B V Doshi and the Belapur project by Charles Correa) were wonderful transitionary solutions that allowed people to participate in the process. Perhaps today the time is right for solutions like that. More tentative, but more robust. Otherwise we will make permanent solutions for what are temporary or transitionary problems.

R W: You’re also a kind of East meets West synergy, that informs as well enriches both worlds. But what are contradictions? Are your Indian experiences/field studies of much value for application in the developed world and also vice-versa?

R M: In today’s world, the carry-overs between the East and West as you have defined it are enormous. With globalisations come the effects of heterogeneity as well as homogeneity — both have their own disruptions. In some places, they play themselves out in more extreme ways. So, my work in India whether it’s the research on cities or architecture or the design studios that conduct in the academy, resonates in the West because it anticipates a condition in formation through study of an extreme form of any condition. So, for example the Kumbh Mela study has been useful for people to look at the refugee camps or other forms of celebration that are more secular in orientation. For me to have the luxury of slipping back and forth between two worlds is a blessing one that allows me to reflect on both conditions and contexts from a distance. I believe I have benefitted in my own thinking a great deal from this synergy.

R W: In the context of India in your seminal book Architecture in India since 1990 you have made a departure from the usual typologies for architecture and categorised works as Global, Regional, Alternate and Counter Modernism… How many of these would be eventually subsumed by the global? And will any national/ regional identifies be really left?

R M: In fact, I think this will perpetuate more national and regional identities. That was really the message of the book and one see that this is happening more and more in the last five years since I wrote the book. So, this is a disjuncture that I wanted to very much highlight in the book. That is, if you removed the lens of modernism as an aesthetic, what would one see in terms of architectural production on the India landscape? What’s interesting is to see then is the effect that the modernisation project brought to bear on a traditional society like India, where the aesthetic of modernity preceded social modernisation. The scholar Sibel Bozdogan argues this point, citing conditions where aesthetic modernity in architecture—and, by extension, the city and modernist architecture—arrived in many societies like India before an independent bourgeois, industrialisation, capital markets, and the usually accepted characteristics of modernisation. Naturally, this reversal raises many questions about the pre-conceived aesthetics often applied universally in architectural practice. Thus, one of the underlying ideas in the book is that of aesthetics.

What I tried to show in the book was that the most ‘modern or contemporary’ images since the early 1990s, the time we liberalised our economy, represent the least progressive social ideal and were about greed or indulgence and on the other end the most ‘ancient or traditional’ images, today, represent in India social missions and amazing transformative agendas albeit through faith-based practices. On one end of the spectrum is the architecture of capital, often global capital. And the last example is large buildings and complex built by faith-based associations and often Does Permanance Matter? exhibition at Venice Covers of made in rich materials. Both these sorts of architecture and aspirations are represented in shiny surfaces implying a quest for purity and sense of power. In between these extremes are the earthier projects– built by hand or in local materials and posed as sensitive regional paradigms. This unfortunately comprises a very small amount what is produced in India in the ‘name of architecture’. What’s interesting is that the commanding ends of this spectrum— what you might call the temples of faith— one for the worship of financial capital and the other in forms of religious capital, marginalise the role of the architect as we know it. For me, the book was intended as a wakeup call for the marginalisation of the profession of architects in India!

R W: How are Indian cities treating their architectural heritage? Do you see conservation as part of your practise?

R M: For me conservation is but an instrument of planning that society uses to modulate the rate of change. Nothing is permanent, and we have to view these efforts in the context of time. It was in this context, that looking at the practice of ‘conservation’ as a generalist over the last two decades has been challenging as well as extremely productive for me as a practitioner. As I was not trained formally as a conservation architect, this had some severe disadvantages but also many productive advantages. The disadvantages were obvious, I had to gain the insights and training on material conservation practices, expose myself to cultural practices in the field, study methodology and obtain familiarity with the Charters, etc. However, the big advantages were that one could also take an outsider’s view– a view of conservation practice from the vantage point of a contemporary architect in India and a trained urban designer. From this perspective, one was liberated to be engaging with the past as well as the future simultaneously– that is, speculate about the future of the past. From this perspective, one could not but help see conservation as a planning instrument for society, to modulate and calibrate the rate of change in the built environment. Perhaps this is a pragmatic perspective but clearly is one rooted in a critical view of privileging architecture and its eventual conservation as both being simultaneously valid. And essentially both being practices in the service of society.

R W: What do you think of the present ‘Smart City’ mission of the Government of India—you have been rather critical of it and have advocated that the aim should instead be ‘100 great Indian cities’ rather than ‘100 Smart Cities in India’. What’s wrong with the Smart City idea?

R M: For the public interest, by definition, cities must be better planned and so that’s a given. And I think what at least the rubric of ‘smart cities’ has brought to the discussion in the political conversation in India is a focus on cities and the urban. However, the new mantra (in the way it’s being used in India) of Smart Cities, to a great extent is, I believe, based on the belief of politicians and some planners that the substantial and instrumental use of information and communication technologies in the management of urban functions can make cities work better. This discourse is clearly related only to the aspiration or impulse to make their cities competitive in terms of revenues, jobs and to attract Capital. Clearly, the Smart City shifts the discussion to cities as business model rather than one of social justice. So, Smart Cities if anything to be relevant to the Indian condition will need to harness radically altered understanding of public purpose and the common good. And furthermore, urban form has to become part of this equation in the imagination of cities. Or conversely urban form must be used instrumentally to form what a city could be – that is play an avant-garde role in determining the very form and shape of the city. And most importantly, to aspire to be humane centric in their conceptualisation and formulation. This is actually crucial for the survival of our democracy short, the rhetoric on Smart Cities clearly ignores the reality of the messiness and inherent inequities that are intrinsic to Indian cities! Finally, this then begs a critical question in our debates about cities in India: What is the purpose of the city– beyond capital accumulation?

R W: Most Indian schools almost ape the five year Bachelor of Architecture programme, do we not need to devise our own curricula?

R M: My first response would be to say I am not so sure what you mean by a developing country? I am assuming it means the uneven development that characterises developing economies, etc, which we see in a country like India? If this is a correct understanding or assumption, then a practitioner in a condition like this is dealing with complete different ends of the spectrum simultaneously as compared to their counter parts in say Europe or the United States. So, naturally the education we provide needs to be cognizant of these differences and the potential range of engagements that are necessary. Although in some ways these forms of inequity that we see in Indian cities and the country as a whole are becoming a more universal problem too. Now in response to your second question the short answer would be ‘yes’. The longer response would need for us as educators recognising that in a country like India which has a mindblowing spectrum of cultural, economic and social difference coexisting in space means the architect has to first learn to see the simultaneous validity of differences. In fact, I think in every school, a required class in the first term should be a class on contemporary India where students are taught to understand the society in which they will practise and operate. They should be exposed to issues of caste, class, globalisation, contemporary politics, economics, resources, readings of culture and more importantly readings of society and its aspirations in contemporary India. From this understanding will hopefully emerge the role of the architect in society or ideally multiple roles for the architect in society. The implication of this pedagogy means engaging with designing curriculum that recognises multiple models of practise– many ways of engaging with society or rather different parts of society to imagine better spatial possibilities. Unfortunately, our current curriculum does not recognise this. These limitations are often perpetuated by accreditation requirements, etc. So, these top down stipulations that universalise for ease of application result in a self-fulfilling prophecy– where we teach architecture and its practise in a singular mode. I always remember what architect Prem Chandavarkar once said that we are obsessed with teaching the ‘practise of architecture’ and what we should also be focusing on as teachers is the ‘architecture of practise’.

R W: Presently there is a huge glut or under-employment among graduating architects in India. Have the professional and regulatory bodies failed in their duties and come up short?

R M: These bodies have absolutely failed and more than anything this is clear in the quality of the built environment that surrounds us in India. There are two fundamental reasons for this. The first is the issues we have discussed earlier regarding our pedagogy and its relevance. We have not recognised adequately different models of practise that might equip students for engaging with the problems on the ground. And professional bodies through the accreditation process and its biases towards a single model of practise really create a disconnect between the ground realities and the education that has to be delivered. Some schools that have creative leadership find ways of incorporating some of this in the grey areas of the accreditation stipulations and students in some schools find role models in the teachers and other practitioners to understand this and find their way to becoming effective practitioners eventually. The second even more important failure of the regulatory bodies is the ease with which they have allowed or even facilitated the proliferation of schools of architecture. From a couple at independence to over 400 today. Of these, about 220 have happened in the last six years. So besides there being no capacity in terms of teachers, the bigger problem is that in the singular or conventional model of practise there is no demand. In the ‘State of Architecture’ exhibition that I co-curated with Kaiwan Mehta and Ranjit Hoskote we learnt that after the mid 1990s when the real estate sector started organising itself and projects got bigger, actually less architects were engaged as more and more buildings were done by less architects. Parents on the other hand see a lot of construction, don’t understand it is highly centralised and encourage their children to go to architecture school, as they see it as a viable profession with great demand. Everyone is disappointed eventually. Today, there are so many students graduating that they can’t even find offices to intern which is a requirement for graduation and so this will lead to all sorts of corrupt practises. The regulatory bodies have completely failed. They have lost touch with the pulse and the reality of the ground and also, have given into the education lobbies which at best are now another form of business! I believe that India does not need any more schools of architecture but desperately needs to invest in upgrading the existing ones both in terms of physical facilities as well as intellectual capacities.

R W: With three or perhaps four major exhibitions recently curated by you: ‘The State of Architecture (Showcasing the entire gamut of Post-Independence India work), ‘Does Permanence Matter’ (Held in Munich recently addressing the current refugee influx being faced by Europe) and your entire comprehensive range of work titled ‘Soft Thresholds’ held in the Graduate School of Design— you seem to be assiduously using the medium of exhibitions to raise relevant professional issues. How is this mode different than the traditional ones like publications, videos or lectures?

R M: I guess it’s a different medium or format. What excites me about the exhibition mode is that the medium opens and embraces the public more easily. Furthermore, it allows the simultaneous combination of different medium– artefacts, models, images, film, etc. So this allows one to create an experience of the buildings, city or the subject of the research in more tangible ways. But I think the most important reason to explore this medium was also to convey the complexity of research material and also our own work.

So, the last few exhibitions on the Kumbh Mela and that extended itself into the Ephemeral Urbanism research we could actually juxtapose a series of cases in a way that their relationship becomes evident. Or in the exhibition on our own work we could juxtapose for simultaneous viewing our contemporary buildings with conservation projects as well as books and research material that supports these projects. This mode of juxtaposing and putting into view simultaneously different sets of material is something that the exhibition mode allows most easily and I think it becomes a way the ‘public’ can literally walk into our world and engage with it. So, in short, the format of the exhibition allows different modes and medium to be used in effective ways simultaneously.