Parry & Co., (Dare house) | Photo Credit: THE HINDU ARCHIVES
These are words that occur practically every day in our speech – Central, Egmore, Ice House, Anna University, Anna Samadhi, Valluvar Kottam, Tidel Park, and so on. They are landmarks in our lives as well as of the city. But they are also stories of steps the city has taken in its quest for an architectural idiom. It is a journey that began promisingly but has since meandered.
Indo-Saracenic is probably the first style when we talk of Chennai. The Chepauk Palace, which ought to be celebrated by every citizen is now hidden behind plenty of humdrum architecture. It is undergoing an expensive restoration exercise but even when complete it will never be visible to the public as too much has gone on in its vicinity by way of modern construction. But built in 1768 it was India’s first British-designed building in the Indo-Saracenic style. Thereafter nothing much happened for a century.
In the 1860s, RF Chisholm gave Indo-Saracenic a new lease of life with the University Senate House. His PWD Building and the Presidency College had already come up. Close by stood Ice House – that quaint relic from a time when ice was imported from America. Even Ice House would transform, from a bleak tower to a structure with rounded verandahs and windows. Thereafter, the beach would get some more striking buildings, culminating in the University’s precincts. Elsewhere in the city there were several more landmarks coming up, ushered in by Chisholm and later Irwin, Brassington and others.
Dravidian style
By the 1930s, we got Art Deco – a style that Indian businesses in the financial sector ushered in, and followed closely by cinema theatres. This style had a long run in the city, spreading to bungalows and office blocks. By the 1950s we were into the modernist – the Music Academy and the RBI being two lovely examples. And then, when the DMK came to power in the 1960s, there was talk of a new Dravidian style.
The architectural world paused to look and for a while there seemed to be promise. The black needle-like structure that arose on the beach front seemed to fulfil that expectation but alas, not for long.
What has since followed is pedantic art. Even Valluvar Kottam, with its promise of a dramatic memorial for Thiruvalluvar, failed. It was in effect a pale copy of the Tiruvarur temple chariot, going back to the very tradition that the DMK had wanted to defy. What has happened since then to Valluvar Kottam is the stuff of tragedy – crockery exhibitions at what was once supposed to inspire research into Tamil.
We have since then succumbed to what may be called the international style. There are buildings that could be anywhere on earth – even the much vaunted Tidel Park is not anything unique. But by far it is the metro stations that are big, badly designed and the spaces enclosed have been put to no use whatsoever.
It is hard to imagine that the city that got Royapuram, Central and Egmore, also has these. Time and again there has been talk of getting them converted into commercial complexes but they have all failed so far.
In sharp contrast are the Metro stations – functional, chic and bright. Some, such as the ones on Mount Road, the Law College and Anna Nagar, seem to pay tribute to existing landmarks around. There is hope.
Greater hope
There is greater hope in what is happening to Government-owned Indo-Saracenic architecture – there is a spate of restoration ongoing. The same cannot be said of buildings in private hands or those with Central Government institutions – the GPO, the SBI HQ and the Bharat Insurance buildings.
As for Art Deco, it is on its last legs. Which is a pity. When Miami and Mumbai could get their Art Deco listed with UNESCO, we just frittered ours away.
