What is Indian architecture?

Chitvan Gill, writing about architecture in independent India, says we have failed to develop a unique, instantly recognizable architectural signature that is at the same time inspiring and beautiful. I agree on several counts , especially with respect to the grotesque kitsch of the temple complexes at Akshardham and Chattarpur, smaller copies of which have sprouted as far afield as Neasden and L.A, and the fact that post-colonialism distorted the worldview of an entire generation of Indian architects. But then, it did in so many other disciplines, as far afield as medicine and local literature.

As for le Corbusier, one may or may not view his obsession with his own sense of destiny with sympathy, let alone the things that he did in the pursuit of that. However, whether one likes the way it looks or not, there's no denying that Chandigarh achieved what it sought to, to clearly state the intentions of a new nation, which was to make a clean break from the past. Fifty odd years after independence, as a nation finally coming out from the angst of adolescence into the infinite possibilities of adulthood, we finally have the luxury and the confidence to say that our ancient architectural past was indeed, something manifestly beautiful. That is a confidence an uncertain, infant nation could hardly have been expected to instantly assume. So, le Corbusier's Chandigarh had a purpose, as had Nehru's flawed centralized, socialist vision, and both served their purposes well. What the army of armchair critics of post-independent, Nehruvian India, who seem to have sprouted overnight, courtesy the web (yours truly included) don't appear to recognize is that we would probably not be in the position we are in today (on the threshold of a sensitive kind of greatness, if we can manage to pull it off) if that generation had not made the brave choices it did. And that included making that break with the past, striving to be 'modern' in every sense of the term, and choosing social justice over the free market.

But enough of that. I believe we do have a unique Indian architectural sensibility, though some of the pioneers of that sensibility have come from other shores. Louis Kahn started the trend with the lovely IIM buildings in Ahmedabad, a tradition that continues in the brick and tile of Lawrie Baker, inspired by traditional Keralan architecture. Gerard da Cunha has picked up where Baker has left off. If those Russians had walked half a kilometre north by northeast, they would have been assailed by the raw power of Charles Correa's imposing chunks of concrete piled on top of each other, off the Post-Office circle. Sure, it's clunky, but so were we, those days.

Chitvan says, "Traditional builders and craftsmen, the mistris and shilpkaris were not trained to grasp the new idiom and their skills were inappropriate for the underlying scientific principles of engineering and building that constituted the new architecture. The disjunct between the architect and his builders has become even more pronounced now." I fail to see why this should be an issue, unless one has a remarkably patronising view of what the mistris and shilpkaris are capable of. Louis Kahn built his masterpiece and swansong, the Jatiyo Sangshad Bhaban, the National Assembly of Bangladesh, with no earthmovers, no forklifts and practically no money, the work being done entirely by local artisans, carpenters and manual labourers, who built it, shovelful by loving shovelful, brick by loving brick.

But these are famous names. What about the hundreds of young architects out there designing structures that are both sustainable and rooted in local traditions? Some of them do so in their spare time, churning out malls and multiplexes in their day jobs, in order to fund their less-profitable professional passions. I know at least three such people, working in different parts of the country. We are a mongrel nation, a melting pot of races, identities and sensibilities. For a nation that celebrates this cultural chaos, developing a unique, monolithic architectural sensibility is as impossible (and absurd) as imposing one language on all its states (or one ethno-religious identity on all its people).

My views, are of course, entirely subjective. And as for competing interests, I have lots.