Wednesday, January 5th, 2005
Under a clear blue sky
To appreciate the beauty of Charles Correa’s work, look at the sky.
At Kanchanjunga on Pedder Road, terraces are cantilevered from the building like gardens in the sky. At Sonmarg on Nepean Sea Road, a belt of verandahs runs along the eastern and western perimeters, at once keeping the sun and rain out while letting the sky in. At Belapur, a shared courtyard is the open space that binds groups of 7 cottages.
In a city obsessed with FSI, Charles Correa has preferred to make room for the sky.
“The sky,†he explains, “has carried a profound and sacred meaning throughout human history. The temples of South India are not just a collection of shrines and gopurams, but a movement through the open to sky pathways that lie between them. Such a path is the essence of our experience. It represents a sacred journey, a pradakshina, a pilgrimage. Witness also the walls around Rajasthan palaces and Mughal forts and how they are crowned with patterns that interlock built form with sky. And how chhatris along the roofscape capture fragments of the infinite heavens above.â€
But form quite obviously follows function in the work of a man whose lines are as sparse as a haiku.
He dwells upon the practical benefits of open to sky spaces: “In a warm climate, the best place to be in the late evenings and early mornings, is outdoors. To the poor, in their cramped dwellings, the roof, terrace and courtyard represent an additional room, used in many different ways: for cooking, for talking to friends, for sleeping at night and so forth. And for the rich, the lawn is as precious as the bungalow itself.â€
Simple words of wisdom. If only Mumbai had listened.
Way back in the ‘60s, Correa made a case for moving the business district out of Fort. The British, he pointed out, chose South Bombay for its proximity to the port. But there was now a case for growing the city northwards or else the infrastructure, be it work spaces, living spaces or transport, would buckle under the burgeoning load. He likened the city to a rubber band that would be stretched to snapping point.
If only Mumbai had listened.
In the ‘70s, Correa, on behalf of a citizens’ group, made a case against the indiscriminate reclamation and the randomly dumped earth at the water’s edge in Nariman Point. The water bodies, he suggested, form two separate areas: a small rectangular lake and a deeper body of water which faced the open sea. A promenade would run along the water’s edge with restaurants and food kiosks.
If only Mumbai had listened.
In the late ‘90s, Correa submitted a plan to divide the Government mill land in Parel into 3 equal parts. One, for public housing, one for open spaces and public amenities and one for sale in the open market.
Mumbai has a final shot at heeding a son’s advice and redeeming at least one remaining lung. To ignore him would be to deny the city its share of sky.