Does Context Matter?

Does Context Matter?

Architects consider themselves as creative professionals and take great pride in the visual quality of their creations – the only part of architectural design that the rest of the world understands. Unfortunately, this has resulted in identifying architecture only with its visual form, at the cost of all the other finer aspects of design. In most of the cities today, there seems to be some kind of competition amongst architects in trying to make their designs strikingly in contrast to their contexts, without a second thought as to the effect this would have on the overall urban landscape.

The more outrageous the form, the more the project gets talked about. I recollect a photograph of Hongkong documenting the resultant chaos, in a presentation by Jimmy Lim, with his typical dry comment about how you need to shout in order to be heard in a scenario where the background noise is too loud.

On the other hand, if conformity to the context becomes institutionalized in the form of guidelines or regulations, they tilt the scale to the other extreme, putting a virtual stop to all creative interpretations of the context. The urban design guidelines for Chandigad are a case in point. The interpretation of the context of Chandigad is frozen in a set of regulations so rigid that they have effectively killed all creativity and made the city monotonous in character.

The correct response to any physical context must lie somewhere in between these two extremes, though not always in a manner directly apparent. Sometimes the new project itself may redefine the context. The Sydney Opera House, which has become an icon of Sydney now, was built over a site which had an existing structure with heritage value. Conservationists may now have an academic debate over the virtue of promoting current iconic architecture by demolishing the heritage of the past, but there are no clear-cut solutions.

Indians in general have scant regard for the historic setting which most of our old cities have, but there are exceptions too. First, we had the Delhi Urban Arts Commission Act and then the Mumbai Heritage Precinct Regulations as also the regulations for protection of French Quarter in Pondicherry. Interestingly, all these areas boast of architecture built by our colonial rulers in their heyday, and we seem to have a complex love-hate situation with our colonial past.

So, when Charles Correa designed the LIC Building in Connaught Place, New Delhi, people derided it as they felt that the huge concrete and glass tower would deface the heritage quality of the place. Little is known about the original design by Correa in which he sought to integrate the huge plaza at the ground level as an extension of Connaught Place, making it directly accessible from the street. This never materialized simply because like our old colonial masters; our current rulers also treat the common people of the city as an undesirable element. It was much later, in the design of the city center for Kolkata, that Correa would actually realize the creation of a truly accessible public place for the city.

What Correa was trying to do was to reflect the ambience of Connaught Place as a democratic public place; but excluding the visual character of Lutyens Delhi. The problem with such an approach is that it is a bit too difficult to understand on paper and hence may get caught up in the regulations about conformity to context. It is actually surprising that the Delhi Urban Arts Commission, cleared the proposal. It is doubtful if such a proposal would have been cleared under any of the heritage guidelines mentioned above.

It is now said that ‘the context of Connaught Place begins with the new LIC building’, and we must give credit to Correa for redefining the context of Connaught Place, in spite of the fact that his original scheme was not fully executed.

Public places in an urban setting are what makes a city memorable for generations. Architects, as creative professionals, need to be sensitive to this intangible aspect of our public spaces.