While walking around with some friends in Dona Paula, our discussion veered
to its architecture. We started comparing buildings, appreciating some but more
often bemoaned the fact that for the most part they were loud,
gaudy, and, at times, completely out of scale. Most of the buildings in Dona Paula are large
single-family bungalows, with high compound walls and even bigger gates,
intended to symbolize the wealth of the patron within. While one bungalow was
trying to impress with oversized column and pediment, the other went overboard
with decorative railings and ugly pergolas. As we moved along, we came across a series of contemporary row-houses marked
by sleek lines of horizontal and vertical planes. For a change, my companions
approved of the work. I remained skeptical, also evasive about the reason for
my continued criticism. Nevertheless, I had a feeling that, given the context, my
own work as an architect would not have been very different. Why then was I critical
of the wealthy neighborhood of Dona Paula? Why did I find it sanitized,
even sterile?
It was not long after that the reason
for my cynicism in Dona Paula was made obvious through an architectural
encounter on the outskirts of Goa Velha. Standing on the old highway was a small two storied,
light yellow building with bright red column pilasters complimented by the red
of its steeply sloping roofs; a narrow
and linear building, modest in its aesthetics and ordinary in terms of its
finishes. Yet it drew my attention because it seemed peculiarly slim and imposing.
What made this architecture interesting was that the linearity of the building
was a direct result of the shape of the plot on which it stood. The design of
the steep sloping roof seemed to achieve historical reference to the Portuguese
period architecture, an attempt which many famed architects fail.
At the risk of being unfair, let us agitate the frame of aesthetics in
comparing the building in Goa-Velha to its wealthier counterparts in Dona Paula.
What stands out is that apart from satisfying the basic requirement of
achieving functional as much as constructional complexity, the building in Goa-Velha
has also been able to articulate itself boldly. Its attempt at style is far
more than mere cosmetics. This is worth appreciating because
style is mostly synonymous with the rich. It is ironic that even if the rich
present themselves as ordinary, it is deemed a matter of style. The building in
Goa Velha, on the contrary, makes a valiant statement of style considering its
restrained access to resources.
However, apart from architectural aesthetics, Dona Paula seems to be plagued
by other fundamental issues. One of these is its collective urban design. Ideal
neighborhoods are definitely not created by treating the development area like
a large chocolate cake and dividing it into standard pieces of plots. The
British architect and urban designer Leon Krier seems to have articulated a
solution to ensure that the nature of sub-division does not lead to boring and repetitive
built environment. In his development of Poundbury, in 1990’s, an urban extension to the city of Dorchester
in England, Krier achieved diversity by clubbing together plots of various
sizes, shapes and orientation, to design new urban neighborhoods. The strategy
was simple but effective. The variety of plot sizes ensures interesting
non-standard building designs. Apart from variations in plan layouts, the
dissimilarity of plot sizes also guarantees an assortment of buildings in terms
of height and massing. This also ensures that architects have different design
challenges in different plots.
However, in Dona Paula, each bungalow tries to achieve its
"bungalowness", by expressing the myriad tastes of their bourgeois
owners. The overall effect is unpleasant, that of urban kitsch. The
non-implementation of urban design guidelines and the lack of diversity in
plots make it difficult for the locality to come together as a neighborhood. One
wonders whether this is in spite of Dona-Paula being a home to wealthy patrons,
or because of it. .
But on the
other hand, although the row-houses in Dona-Paula provided a relief from the
continuous change of architectural expression as seen in other parts, the
problem is that they were all identical and therefore boring because it denied
thematic variations in each plot. In a
well-designed neighborhood the buildings can be similar but not the same. The
learning, therefore, seem to be that in order to achieve a cohesive but
interesting neighborhood, there is a need for common unity in the urban design
of the area, while simultaneously allowing for eclecticism at the individual
building level.
Rather than the vulgar display of money through individual projects, places
like Dona Paula require visual coherence in their architecture. Until then it will
remain sanitized, sterile and boring. Architecture in Dona Paula
is evidence that money can't buy taste.
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