Architecture ~ Breathing space in Bangalore

(This piece dates back to 2004)

Living spaces tell the story of people. What do our homes and office interiors tell us about ourselves? A peek into the architectural scene in Bangalore ~ India's IT and BPO boomtown.


Who are we? Where are we heading? Do our homes and workspaces reflect our lives, our dreams, our critical needs?

These questions prowl the private and public spaces of cosmopolitan Bangalore, in the wake of its surge of upmarket buildings and its escalating real estate market in 2004.

The IT and BPO boomtown, now stretching skywards with look-alike office blocks plush with tinted glass and metallic frontage, represents all the contradictions inherent in Indian corporate-oriented metropolitan growth today. Do cloned buildings, transplanted from a western ambience, work within our context? The Infosys campus, General Electric, Microsoft, and Hewlett Packard offices are cases in point. On the home front, sprawling residential blocks fitted with a swimming pool, sauna, gym, club house and so on, have become standard fare. The order of the day encompasses projects by Sobha, Brigade, Prestige, Renaissance, Puravankara and other major players among builders. Their creations line the teeming corridor adjacent to the ITPL and Electronic City.

But do bright hued, plug-and-play paperless workstations, surrounded by quick-bite eateries, make for superior ideation? Do Italian kitchens, marble floors and made-in-the-US living spaces spell domestic bliss? What do our interiors reveal about us?


Ahmedabad-trained architects Nisha Mathew and Soumitro Ghosh, who won the November 1993 nationwide contest to convert Bangalore's 20-acre Central Jail into a Freedom Park, have an interesting take on the anonymity of current trends: "Bangalore's no different from any other developing economy that's seeing an unprecedented spurt. So, the choice of design and materials is informed by the imagined aesthetic need of a spectrum of corporate clients. They need to project an international image of being technologically advanced. So, their aesthetics are derived from either the parent company abroad or the offshore client."

In a time of soulless, detached MNC hire-and-fire employment, workspaces reflect the diminished entity of the individual. Architect Meeta Jain, another Ahmedabad graduate, agrees, "The clone look results from interior space seen as territory to be occupied by more efficient layout, rather than a qualitative work environment. Stereotyping with the use of available workstation ensembles reduces interior design to a mere selection of fabric, window blinds, carpets and false ceiling light fixtures."

Looking homewards, interior designer Ashwini Tandon notes, "My clients from the IT and BPO sector come into meetings sleepy-eyed after midday, following night shifts. They are reluctant to share the nitty-gritty of their lifestyles. All they want is to hand over the key to a flat they've bought — and collect the key once we're through." Their wish lists stem from travel abroad and disposable incomes. They seek totally wired, organised systems for living, and 24x7 stores... perhaps a single electrical switch-off point near the flat exit as they tear out to work. Or an old-fashioned, paatima-style curved chopping blade, but cleverly concealed within a kitchen packed with imported hobs, electric chimneys and other gadgets.

Big bucks fuel outsize dreams, as sci-fi meets Bollywood head-on in everyday Bangalore. An MNC or business couple in the high-income bracket, given to party hopping, might invite their interior decorator to go shopping for French or Italian designer furniture in Dubai. Or seek a tie-organiser or velvet-lined earring organiser in his-and-hers bedroom segments that segregate colour-coordinated party and daily wear in separate walk-in wardrobes. Mix-and-match kitchens sourced from imported glossy magazines are much prized, often by couples that eat out constantly in this food-trendy city.


Yet, amidst the monotony of mindless urban growth, some signs of people-responsive interiors emerge. They crop up in IT training spaces that grow out of transformed tobacco warehouses such as ITC Infotech's Epicentre by local architecture's enfant terrible K. Jaisim. Or an offbeat fashion studio for Gokaldas Images at Peenya by architect Meeta Jain and Swiss-born interior designer Georg Leuzinger. Or Meeta's edgy residence for artist Suresh Jayaram that yokes together quirky facades with an unobstructed flow of space. Or a gym fanatic's residence that allows exercise to fit in with social interaction in a low-budget, compact flat that Ashwini designed. Or Sua House, art collector-businessman Abhishek Poddar's office that combines aspects of a gallery with business priorities within a sliced, box-like space distinguished by wedges of light, rendered by Nisha and Soumitro.


Foreign accessories in lifestyle stores spur the city's demands. They include furniture brands like Faberge, Style Spa and Durian, sourced from either Europe or Malaysia, with other options including Thai water hyacinth furniture. But local ware proves equally classy. Such as the Himatsingka Seide group's minimalist `Atmosphere' store that has, since September 2003, retailed exquisite premium furnishings in Brazilian/Chinese silk or Italian cotton at between Rs 1,000 and Rs 1,800 a metre, yardage that has conquered the export market for over 17 years. Or take `Pause', that offers top-end furniture choices. Such as a slant-sided Burma teak closet, clad in burgundy leather, or a muted blue chaise lounge with stainless steel legs. Or a choice of `the world's best lights' from Milan-based Flos.

Plush options apart, are our interiors environment-conscious? "In our largely tropical country, our envelopes need to breathe naturally. When the envelope has been infused with sufficient light, air and sky, it makes for a harmonious space. Then, it doesn't matter what flooring or furniture we choose. But we use excessive glass and don't shade it enough, creating virtual incinerators or sealed environments that completely rely on air-conditioning or artificial day lighting. By using such high-energy systems, we are behaving irresponsibly towards the environment," says Meeta.

Within these ambivalent constants, what have Bangalore's creative architects and interior decorators achieved over the past five years? Each of their breakaway, breathe-easy projects have stemmed from individuals unafraid to stand alone in a distinctive space.


Jaisim, ever inspired by Ayn Rand's Howard Roark in The Fountainhead, recently created a small, free-form warped shell with mud pots for a small consultancy firm in Indiranagar, reducing interior costs barring equipment to almost nil. But that's besides his major interior redefinition — ITC's Epicentre, with a Zen garden with stone stools linked to connectivity, perfect for a chill-out software session, and a training room roofed with inverted pots for perfect acoustics, its terracotta-and-olive curves contained in a redefined, century-old tobacco warehouse.

As Meeta notes, there are "interiors to live up to, and interiors for living." For Suresh's mind liberating home, executed in January 2003 with a budget of Rs 8 lakh, she conceived of a residence with minimal divisions, which integrates pre-acquired doors and windows, celebrating the resultant ambience. Cost-effective yellow oxide and Kadapa/ Kotah stone added to the space's essential mood, distinguished by a terrace with granite seats under the stars.

Meeta and Georg chose an alternative route to the Gokaldas Images studio, formerly a terrace, completed in August 2003 at a cost of about Rs 30 lakh. An overhead `street of light' skylight warms the workspace, where glass walls open onto a garden below. Amidst snappy visual boards, projection spaces and a trial room, the duo designed custom-made workstations that integrate pin-up, writing and graphic surfaces. The workspaces are two-level led, with a lower one for computers while the higher one allows for fabric use.

Nisha and Soumitro's concept for Sua House is equally personalised. Light and transparency are its keynotes throughout three subtly articulated levels. These features are enhanced by a staircase of suspended steel sections with treads of local hardwood, the `glass box' meeting rooms at each level, the barcode-like white marble inlay into grey-green Kotah stone for the flooring, even the frosted-glass light wedges that seal in the inner world. Within it, the owners retain their privacy at the top floor, the middle floor is a meeting zone, while the front isolates the managers' cells.

Judging by the far-from-scenic overview, whom are we taking our interior cues from? "The lifestyles of the rich and famous... an imitation of the pseudo-royals. Our films, our media," laughs Jaisim.

Or, as Ashwini points out, "Some clients want a totally European bathroom with a sunken-in tub and expensive fittings. But they're unwilling to take the bucket out of the bathroom. Or give up the traditional washing stone."

What of future portents? "Technological gimmickry is a big one. Materials that will soon arrive in the market can blow one's imagination. Like glass that changes from opaque to colour to clear. Or walls so thin, yet so strong, you can warp them around any form. Wireless power and communication lines," says Jaisim. "Sound and odour, now very young in interior design, will play significant roles. Imagine creating at will fragrances to suit a mood or change one... "

That brings us full circle to the crux of the ongoing interiors debate. A debate that points to an urban Indian identity crisis. For, as Jaisim says in his inimitable manner, "It's all very well to talk of history, heritage, culture and all that. But who are we as a people? As individuals, where do we belong? Do we have an identity within our civilisation? In India today, we are at the stage of instant interior design! No wonder we are where we are."

Architecture: K Jaisim ~ Reinventing space

Jaisim: Image by KN Raghavendra Rao

(This dates back to 2002)


The cut granite wedges at the windows stop us in our tracks. Randomly placed, they edge the glass, liberating the windows from being a mere viewing point. Against the free-flowing terracotta and olive green bands that swathe the building, they assert an alternate insight. In the instant that we absorb their import, we shed the normal lens through which we view interiors and the lifestyles they reflect.

We're outside the new learning centre of ITC Infotech (I3L), a wholly-owned subsidiary of ITC Limited, a $ 1.8 billion company with a market capitalisation of $ 4 billion. Initially the internal software and systems division of ITC since 1980, I3L grew into a separate company in October 2000, as the parent company began a major diversification thrust.

How is this reflected within its foliage-rich campus in Bangalore? Facing us is the creatively-named `Epicentre,' an old tobacco warehouse reborn to a new lease of life, which was inaugurated last October. This is where the company "builds its capabilities, fosters innovation and freedom of thought," proclaims its brochure.

The nature-hued warehouse exterior beckons us, past a traditional bell strung from curved metal posts. The sun-streaked, minimalistic Zen garden outdoors, dappled with stone stools, exuberates in the interplay of the five basic elements - perhaps enhancing the inward journeys of the seekers within.

Could there be an ambience more conducive to learning? There is, within the Epicentre's sheet-glass doors. Terracotta floors and tiled ceilings, masking the original roofing, curve the nature notes through unconventional, unpredictable spaces.

"The character remains that of a warehouse," explains V Sreenivasan, General Manager, Software Development, as he walks us through the experiential centre that provides new recruits with technology training, corporate etiquette and culture.

In reinventing this historic, 100-year-old building, ITC — known for its formal, old-style offices — sought out the brilliance of K. Jaisim of The Fountainhead, the breakaway architect known for his freewheeling creativity. Their brief: `low-budget, world-class' architecture.

How does this translate into real life? Past a linear, metal-line sculpture of a peepal leaf in growth, symbolising the centre's aspirations, we enter a 50-seater lecture theatre studded with state-of-the-art equipment, including LCD projections, video-conferencing facilities, visualisers, e-Beam projection, one-touch remote operation, among others. "If somebody doesn't want to sit in the class, they can tune in at the library, where there's a large LCD plasma screen," explains Sreenivasan. But hi-tech is not the mood of the moment in this gently-lit space that hosts engineering graduates for eight to 12 weeks, with flexible, flat-backed seats that are ergonomically designed for comfort, under a vaulted ceiling studded with upturned pots.

"The world is waking up to re-architecture, where conservation and preservation are major issues," says Jaisim playfully. "Here, the architecture had to evolve from an interior within a constrained space. That was a major challenge. Without a preconceived plan, the ideas grew without changing the basic functions. We looked at each new constraint as an opportunity to explore... pushing walls outwards, softening the lines, working with terracotta jaalis to let in light and air, inventing crazy furniture."

The foyer, imbued with earthy ambience, boasts metal overhead ventilation ducts, instantly yoking the contemporary and the traditional together. The receptionist's desk is a rough-edged sheet carved out of a granite boulder, with a striated footrest to match, its naturalness essential to the top notes of the interior, including the blooms afloat in a bowl. A semi-circular sunken pit fringed with potted plants draws waiting souls into the grey stone bench laid within it.

Sounds of flowing water rivet the senses. Can there be a water body indoors? The eye veers away to a stream that flows into a bubbling pool by a trail of granite chips, stilling the rush of thoughts even as wall sockets invite the laptop user to plug in.

Up a flight of glass-topped steps on a delicate metal frame in the foyer, that gives the illusion of delicacy while proving sturdy, we find ourselves in two 20-seater classrooms synchronized with the lecture theatre. And a wondrous library with electronic media and a plasma screen, where the computer desks adapt ergonomically to the user's requirements, while the seating veers with every turn of the torso. Spoilt for choice? Bright beanbags provide a seating alternative.

As the ethnic tones continue their explorations through the Epicentre, a conference room upstairs facilitates communing with overseas delegations with teleconferencing facilities, while a window frames a passing bough, distilling the essence of a painting.
Reflective. Restive. These are the basic interior values of this offbeat learning centre, where the earthiness counterpoints technology as the learning path. As memories of childhood gardens permeate the indoors, perhaps inborn values of play will flower into imaginative learning.

"Some of the students here become nerds, some become technology whiz-kids," says Sreenivasan, as we enter the non-linear prototyping lab in which new ideas incubate, replete with high-end work stations.
How do the occupants respond to the alternate environment? The faculty head reveals that though there has been no paradigm shift in the course material, students have been performing significantly better within this meditative environment. Another instructor notes that many of the 30 to 50 students in each batch opt to remain at the Epicentre seven days a week, despite the attractions of Bangalore. Surely the squash court, the gym and the pool room in the complex have something to do with this!

Perhaps Jaisim's spontaneous detailing has cast its spell. Such as the broken triangles of mosaic that edge the terracotta floor, breaking the band of colour. Such as the soft overhead undulations of the earth-tinted ceiling, hinting at an inner music. Such as the glass-sandwiched brick wall that literally builds transparency around the faculty head's room. Such as the huge, coffin-like wooden piece transformed into a buffet table in the cafeteria, where reverse lines against the nature hues flare into the semblance of a bamboo grove, while bandhini-like splashes of fresh colour on the upper reaches liberate the mental space.

"I wanted to break the sense of thinking diametrically, while still blending it," says Jaisim, ever the iconoclast since he began practising in 1970, inspired by Ayn Rand's classic, The Fountainhead, which remains his touchstone. "None of the materials here have ever been used in the conventional sense elsewhere in India. Nothing is breakaway for the sake of being different. Nor does any element jar violently."

As students enjoy the play of light and shade through the jalis on the naturescape indoors, as the centre's 120-odd occupants tune in to the gurgle of running water as their ideas jell between infotech exercises, Jaisim reminds us that "we had to work within very tough cost and time constraints" to complete the redefined space within 140 days.

The unorthodox is the essence of the Epicentre. Out of the debris of discarded ideas comes a creative quake, then calm. Out of history, the humane touch. Because reinvention is intrinsic to the quality of Jaisim who, in redefining the stone-edged window, allowed the inner eye a fresh vision. Quite naturally.

(The Hindu Business Line, 2002)