Written by: Saram Maqbool
Posted on: June 26, 2023 |
Why is it that when one goes to the historic center of Lahore, there’s a feeling of awe that takes over? Despite never having lived in a place like that, a sense of nostalgia washes over the onlooker, often bringing with it a calm that’s missing in the vast expanses of modern housing societies. Could it be that we, as humans, are actually drawn to classically beautiful architecture instead of the sleek lines and glass facades around us? Or is it because these little parts of cities look and feel very different from the architectural sameness that’s taking over the world? Perhaps it’s a combination of both.
There’s no doubt that modern architecture has transformed the skylines of cities across the world. The advent of this style has brought with it numerous benefits like better functionality and lower building costs. Yet, at the same time, it is also contributing to the homogenization of cities. As we traverse different urban landscapes, it becomes apparent that many cities bear a striking resemblance to one another. Take any modern, ‘minimal’ house from a Pakistani housing society and place it anywhere in the world, and it’ll most likely fit in. Some would say that this idea of ‘International Architecture’ is inclusive and beautiful, but it’s very clear that it is slowly taking away the character and personality of different regions.
Let’s discuss about Pakistan for a bit. After moving its capital to Islamabad in 1958, the country’s officials wanted Pakistan to stand as an independent nation of the world as opposed to being tied to its past. This often starts with a visual overhaul of a place, and so modern architectural projects were launched. International and local architects were hired to come up with designs for public buildings that would give the country a new identity as a progressive nation. Many of those structures are still standing today, because modern as they were, they still had their own character as opposed to being blocks of concrete and glass that could be put anywhere on this planet.
That’s not the case with most of the designs we see today. Tall, expressionless cold towers of concrete, steel and glass stand in business zones, while boxy and grey houses occupy most of our residential areas. On the opposite end of the spectrum are the pseudo-Roman and Spanish villa-style buildings owned by people who don’t like the straight lines of modernity. Neither of these approaches truly fits into our context, traditions and way of life. After all, what’s the point of having large glass windows if you’re going to cover them up with curtains because our culture demands and appreciates privacy!
Now that’s not to say that modern architecture doesn’t have a place in the world. On the contrary, there’s a lot it can offer in terms of functionality and utilization of space. But instead of making buildings that look and feel the same, no matter where they’re located, why not design them to reflect a place’s culture and traditions? One example of such architecture is Kapadia Residence in Karachi. Designed by Coalesce Design Studio, this is a very good precedent of how simple solutions derived from tradition can create spaces that are both modern and yet contextually grounded. Sure, the house has large windows to bring in natural light, but it also has a screen that ensures privacy both inside and outside. Akin to historic Mughal-era havelis, the holes in this external skin also save the house from excessive heat while bringing in the wind at a higher pressure. The rest of the house remains very simple and ‘modern’ in its layout. This is why it becomes a good case of how meaningful designs can be achieved, even while following modern design principles.
Another example of a building that stands out from the monotony of modernity in our cityscapes is the Bait Ur Rouf Mosque in Dhaka. Winner of the Aga Khan Award for Architecture in 2016, the mosque was designed by Ar. Marina Tabassum in a densely populated neighborhood. For me, the most interesting thing about this mosque is that it doesn’t look like a mosque at all. There is no signature minaret or dome, both architectural elements that were useful in the past when loudspeakers did not exist, but unnecessary today apart from being visual identifiers. Designed to look essentially like a large rectilinear block, this mosque could have very easily become just another modern and expressionless structure that’s not rooted anywhere. But the architect decided to make use of red bricks for the facade and incorporated tall brick ‘jaalis’ to filter light and air inside. These two decisions are enough, in my opinion, to add enough local character into the design for it to become an integral part of Bengali architecture on a macro level, and South Asian architecture in a larger sense.
The reason these two examples are important in the context of this issue is to showcase that there are many ways in which buildings can be made to look and feel differently from one another, even if they’re intrinsically modern by design. There is no need to go back to gothic arches or wooden jharokas, if the aesthetic of our time has moved past those things, but there is a need to differentiate architecture based on where it’s being designed. Local traditions, values, materials and sensitivities have to be at the core of good architecture for structures to remain standing for years to come, instead of getting demolished after a decade for another copy of the same to be propped up.
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