Letters To A Young Architect Read online

  LESSON THREE

  Don’t be euphoric when people praise you, or depressed when people criticize you

  In Buddhist thinking there are axioms called the Sixteen Emptinesses from which I have learned to keep my emotions ‘empty’. I became euphoric when my design won the American Institute of Architects Award: 2000, but having reached the final list for the Aga Khan Award, I lost. I realized that my happiness should come from the process of design and from my own understanding of the inherent beauty of my efforts. About the time I settled with myself in this philosophy of emptiness, I learned that the project which won over us was disqualified as a fraud; the authors had misrepresented it as a design created by the village people. But that did not make me happy either. I have learned that creation is a patient search, not some kind of competition. To be true to one’s art one must be empty to both praise and criticism and know oneself.

  LESSON FOUR

  Truth is the ultimate search of all artists. Even then I feel it is better to search for the good, than to know the truth

  I suppose it took me too long in life to distinguish between Ethics and Aesthetics; Morals and Artistic Balance. Ethics is a rather exact science of rules; of right and of wrong; and there must be some generic truth within them. However, this world is not black and white, but rather grey and fuzzy.

  On the other hand, aesthetics is the search for pleasure, which I call ‘The Good.’ Aesthetics is a question of balance, or what the Buddhists call the Middle Path. Beauty is a search for that Golden Mean; that harmony which brings all forms of visual, sensual and intellectual pleasure into balance. Harmony is the search.

  If you are a lover of food, don’t eat too much; don’t overdo this or that spice; don’t cook too long or too less. If you love wine, don’t drink too much or never at all. In your love life don’t be too passionate or too neglectful. The Good Life, or the Sweet Life, is all about pleasure and the pleasure principle. I realize that most of us are trapped in our Victorian fear of pleasure and have no aesthetics.

  We are on an endless trip seeking the truth. We judge others, meting out what is right and what is wrong; dying as empty drums that never knew happiness and never spread that happiness to others. Art and architecture are but spiritual paths to ‘The Good!’ They stimulate enjoyment, delight and balance...la dolce vita…the sweet life. It is better to search in this life than to think one can know the truth.

  Yes, it is better to search for the good, than to know the truth.

  LESSON FIVE

  There is only one form of good luck, which is having good teachers

  Years ago Adi Bhathena, the founder of Wanson Industries that morphed over the years into the giant Thermax, introduced me to his ninety-year-old teacher. Adi himself was nearing eighty! We were sitting on the lawn of the Turf Club and Adi went into a long story about how he quit his comfortable job at age forty to risk all in a new venture here in Pune. He explained to me his middle class roots and that it was not within him to embark upon such a big financial adventure. Smiling at his teacher, he noted that without his encouragement, guidance and assurance he would have continued marketing Godrej products as a salesman. Then he turned to me and said, ‘Christopher, in this world there is only one kind of good luck, and that is to have good teachers.’ In what he said I felt I could hear the voice of an ancient sage somewhere on a mountain. I have never been able to forget that truth over the years, and I realize that all my teachers in India and America have been my ‘good luck.’

  (Interview by Sunanda Mehta for the Maharashtra Herald, published on 5th March, 2005)

  Letter

  An Uncertain Journey: The Education of an Architect

  From the moment young people decide to study architecture they begin a journey. At first it is an uncertain journey guided by glamor, images and hopes.

  Their experiences in the classroom, in the studio, interactions with fellow students and chance meetings with practicing architects begin to set an agenda. They begin to hear stories of architects; they see architects’ houses and they walk into interesting studios. Slowly they take upon themselves the images seen through the mirrors of others. Some have heroes, some are silent and some are the heroes of their own lives. Gradually these students start drawing realistic pictures of themselves and embark on the journey of meaningful self discovery. This should be the most beautiful time of their lives.

  We as teachers play a pivotal role in shaping their drama of self discovery. We guide them onto the paths of their journey. Most important, we as teachers can inspire students. We can give them an insight which makes them realize something about themselves that they never knew. As I often say, there is only one kind of good luck in life, and that is a good teacher.

  The experience for many students is exhilarating and transcendental. As mature and wise persons we can see them in their totality from a distance. With objectivity we can guide them on the path they need to follow. We can see their weaknesses and their strengths and help them ameliorate the former and reinforce the latter.

  There is a critical point in their education when they either imbibe the concept of ‘being a professional’ or they drift off into fashionable, glamorous or celebrity paths. This is the first moment when our education fails young architects.

  As mentors and guides we have to ask, ‘Why do young people enter architecture?’ Let me pose a few possible reasons:

  Journey One:

  ‘My father is an architect and I am planning to enter the family business.’

  Journey Two:

  ‘I saw an architect’s picture in the newspaper and, by chance, the next day I saw him get out of a Mercedes. I want to be rich and famous.’

  Journey Three:

  ‘I would like a calm, artistic life, sitting in a serene studio surrounded by plants and paintings, contemplating and letting art flow.’

  Journey Four:

  ‘I wanted medicine, but my school-leaving scores were too low; then I tried electrical engineering, but I failed the entrance exam; so I paid a capitation fee and entered architecture.’

  Journey Five:

  ‘My parents want me to get married to a good professional as soon as possible; they just want me to graduate so that I can find a good partner.’

  Journey Six:

  ‘I want to migrate to America and I think architecture is the best way. As soon as I graduate I will apply for a Masters’ program in South Dakota, get my visa and leave.’

  Journey Seven:

  ‘My art teacher introduced me to the subject of architecture. He showed me a book on Frank Lloyd Wright’s houses and I was amazed. I want to be this person.’

  Journey Eight:

  ‘I want to serve society and make a decent living while doing it. If I hone my skills, study technical systems, learn about materials and learn professional ethics, I can be a serious professional.’

  These multiple possibilities continue. But we as teachers need to know where our paths merge with those of our students and where they diverge. Where do we touch their lives and what are our limitations to change them? What small gifts can we give them along the way? At some juncture of their journey can we make a small impact? Can we do this without becoming involved with students, as their friends and as their confidants? Can we leave personalities and campus politics out of all of this? Can we see the strong points of even our weakest colleagues and help them to be better teachers, instead of ridiculing them? Can we keep the distance of a wise guide and still pass on values, inspirations, sensitivities and understanding?

  On a larger canvas the course curriculum is the highway, or even expressway, down which all of our students are racing. It has many lanes, many entries and many exits. This road can be made monotonous or exciting. It is the quality of teaching that makes it either a smooth and scenic ride, or a bumpy and tor
tuous one.

  I feel we have two kinds of gifts as teachers that we can bestow on our students:

  One is to help youngsters see an image of themselves. We give them images of what they can be and how their own inner strengths and values can transform into a ‘life’ and a meaningful role in society. That is a very personal gift from one person to another. It is called inspiration. But our collective gift, our group goal, must reside within the course content, the required reading, the meaning of projects and the experiences we create for them and into which they immerse themselves. We have to be good at teaching this curriculum and skilled in making it real and lively to the students.

  We as teachers need to know where our paths merge with those of our students and where they diverge.

  In brief we have to provide an excellent grounding in essential knowledge; in necessary skills and in underlying values. As a group we have to decide what are those skills, knowledge and sensitivities.

  I can compare the first year of medical education and that of architecture and I know that the young doctors have mastered Gray’s Anatomy, embracing the nervous system, the skeletal system, the circulation system, cells and their nourishment and all of the organs which control, monitor and fix this complex system. I am sure that at the end of the first nine months of architecture our students will not have a clue of the electrical, plumbing, air conditioning, structural and functional systems which are elements of every building. Even upon graduation we send ill-prepared people out to solve the problems of society. The history of architecture is not made up of the sum of all of the buildings constructed, but of the structures in which a new insight, a new material, a new technique or a new way of looking at space is revealed. I wonder how many young architects are equipped with a complete knowledge of this stream of history and know where they can make a contribution, or how they can employ what has already been discovered.

  I even wonder how good our new graduates are at drawing and sketching free-hand so that they can quickly study options and conceptualize solutions. Most of our youngsters visualize 3D images on a 2D computer screen. Are we making a marriage between the real and the virtual world?

  Do students know the values and design logic of harmony, proportion, scale, and balance?

  Do they know that architects can become the touts of builders who only care for municipal drawings and how much FSI can be harvested? Are we exposing them to the processes of urbanization and the role of architects, builders and planners in creating a vessel in which the multitudes can live a beautiful and poetic life?

  Do our graduates know what phases one goes through to make a real building?

  Do they know that there are numerous roles they can play within this maze of procedures and expected outcomes?

  Within this conundrum it is very important for young architects to know that being ‘creative’ comes far down in the list of logical, rational and responsible things they will have to do to be good professionals.

  We spend far too much time trying to teach what we cannot teach, which is creativity, and very little time teaching what we can teach, which is knowledge, skills and sensitivities. The result is that our graduates have a very wrong impression of what we actually do in a studio and they lack the real skills to do those things. Many imagine that after a two- or three- year stint of work they can open their own offices and do large projects. They are not ready to suffer the low salaries and long working hours that chartered accountants, young doctors and lawyers put in during their apprenticeships. We have not properly grounded them on the path they must endure.

  The greatest gift we can endow students with is the knowledge that they will always be students. We must teach them how to be continuous seekers and learners. We must show them how opening one window of knowledge shows us the way to more windows and still more.

  We have to bring our students and young architects back to basics. We have to make them into responsible, capable and sensitive young professionals. I believe this is doable. I believe we are here to think this through. I believe that working together we can indeed do this.

  (Lecture delivered at Rachana Sansad Academy of Architecture, Mumbai on January 16, 2009)

  The greatest gift we can endow students with is the knowledge that they will always be students.

  Conception to Realization

  Conception to Realization

  Letter

  In Search of Architecture

  Architecture has always been a part of the mentalities which criticize, question and ultimately rule society. Architects have always left lasting images of the societies which patronized them. As societies fade away it is the architect’s footprints which remain. They leave the final images by which each era is remembered – made into a legend.

  Contemporary Architecture

  Today the dominating role of the architect is fading in the fashion-driven market that gives form to most of our environment. Modern civilization seems to be enchanted by the realm of the image, by projecting the values of ‘packaging’ to the detriment of architectural contexts. Contemporary architecture is seen as a permanent surface decoration – the wrapping of materials around functional interiors. Urban deterioration and ugliness reside in the interaction between economy and politics in a manner which determines the role of architects in society. Mostly, contemporary architecture is a kind of escape from the vapid world of materialism into a shallow amusement, or at best into self-indulgent deception. It is aiming at a new ‘creative’ statement which actually betrays a widespread poverty of ideas. The architect is driven by tasteless clients to provide forms, colors and textures which are understood in the media of fashion as ‘being there,’ when in fact the resultant buildings are nowhere. The architect has merely put his stamp of approval on a client who craves social recognition. Beyond the graphic frenzy, somewhere past the Babel of symbols and signs, the abiding force of architecture demands a commitment to human dignity, an honest expression of materials and technology and a search for meaning, as opposed to the frantic stimulation promoted by current design trends.

  On the Role of Patrons

  One must add that goodness lies deep in the human soul and there are patrons (as opposed to clients) who call forth the good in the architect, and from such a relationship beauty can emerge. Whatever good we can achieve lies deep in our patrons’ faith in architecture and the free hand they give to create something beautiful, which would be a lasting gift to the world. Inundated by the desensitized environment, the thrust of architecture constantly struggles to create precincts of peace and meditation. In such a sanctuary, liberated from the bondage of time, architecture exchanges its mechanical form and its crass packaging for a spirit of poetry and mystique. The immediacy of contexts and their poetic ambience reveals what is most real and fundamental. The architect must aspire to construct a sustaining spatial domain that goes beyond the allure of mere packaging.

  Architecture and Fashion

  Architecture re-impassions a world whose values have been destroyed. In an era when civilization has deployed its most devastating forces against humanity and our environment, architecture must maintain faith in a transcendental future – a future that can mend a wounded world, crippled by the onslaught of signs, symbols, images, tricks and flippant styles; a future that challenges a society immersed in self-indulgent visions. Architecture ceases to be a mere wrapping when it ceases to conjure fashion and begins to unfold its unique pursuit. It is in the bliss of its presence that architecture deducts from all the chaos in life, affirming reality.

  Architecture and Context

  My own pursuit for architecture was rekindled in the vast Sahyadri Mountains; in nature; where trees meet the sky; a place of unencumbered horizons, where nature dominates each possible view. There is a compelling beauty in the profusely barren hills of this dispersed enviro
nment, haunting in its solitude – not a solitude filled irreverently with the urban glamor of disposability. The ever-present mountains tenaciously project fantastic architectures of shade and form. During the hot season they offer no shade from the relentless sun. During the monsoon they offer no protection from the storm unleashed. In such a setting one cannot hide in fashions.