Frank Gehry once said, “Architecture should speak of its time and place, but yearn for timelessness.” For architect Sameep Padora too, the context is paramount. Running a Mumbai-based studio, Sameep Padora & Associates, his practice embodies the philosophy of borrowing from the surroundings and the repository of natural resources. His work spans libraries, schools, and community centres to housing developments, single-family houses, and a cricket stadium, navigating the intricate balance between local materials, traditional construction techniques, and modern sensibilities.
His yearning for design and deciphering context could not be quenched through practice alone; in 2016, he established sPare, a research arm exploring issues of urbanisation and architecture in India. His practice has earned international recognition and various accolades through an expansive body of built work, research, exhibitions, and publications. In this conversation, Padora explores the nuances and challenges of responding to the context.
Design Pataki: Indigo Deli at Palladium was one of those projects that instantly became iconic. Looking back, what made you take such a bold departure from what hospitality spaces looked like at the time?
Sameep Padora: Unlike Tote, this was actually in a mall. And a mall space, whether you’re in Bombay, Delhi or Chandigarh, is quite placeless. So what we looked at was the particularities of that space, the columns and beams and what we can do in response to that. The idea of this Deli, with a wine cellar, struck. So that was one conversation we had with the clients, responding to the idea of the site itself with the columns and beams without displacing them. I think it was one of the first projects that also looked at production using digital tools. So we were able to output our drawings directly, and laser-cut each fragment, numbering it as it came to site, and then simply assembling it on site.
DP: You once said, ‘Mumbai’s architecture is slowly killing us,’ referring to the proximity of structures. When I read this, it was a hard-hitting reality check. Could you elaborate on that?
SP: It was a part of a TED Talk. I had nothing to do with housing, but many years ago, when affordable housing schemes started, the government gave tax breaks to developers building housing. A friend who was a developer came to me to design a project. So we started looking at precedents for building affordable housing in Mumbai, which is essentially small spaces. You also start thinking about the fact that this has always existed in the city, so we started going out to the city to find projects to see how people have lived in a 10 X 10 room. How does their kitchen work? Where is the sleeping area? And other things. We thought this exercise would give us a sense of design thinking, but just a precursor. However, as we started doing these field trips, we realised this was a project in itself because of the diversity of housing types. We found incredible projects in the books ‘In The Name Of Housing’ and ‘How To Build An Indian House Book.’
Next, we looked at how bylaws are made. Our second book, ‘Decoding Mumbai,’ is about Mumbai’s bylaws and their history. We found that the first bylaws were written after the 1898 plague to create better living conditions. So they said a building should be set back at a 63.5-degree angle between two buildings for better light and ventilation, etc. In 2016, this report by ‘Doctors For You’ documented transit colonies in Mumbai. In these colonies, they found that almost one in five family members suffered from some respiratory disease because of inadequate light and ventilation. These transit colonies were not violating any bylaws. So that allowed 20-storey buildings to be as close as 10 feet away. In some sense, it was a moment when we realised bylaws had gone from creating better living conditions to creating adverse living conditions, which led me to make that statement that creating these adverse living conditions is actually regulated.
DP: The smallest of projects reminds me of the temple project that you did. Can you talk about it?
SP: The temple project also, in some sense, was an accident. We have a small house close to the site in Vadeshwar, close to Kamshet. We were sitting at the house, and a local priest came by with some villagers asking for a donation to build a temple here. They said we’re part of the Bhima Shankar sect. So I asked, how are you going to build it? They said, “We are going to be calling a contractor and building it out of RCC.” I suggested, why don’t they use stone to build? Basalt is available very easily. As to why they said that, they don’t know how to build with stone, and it’ll become too expensive, etc. I then asked if I was able to help them; would they build out of stone? They agreed.
So we then started working on the temple. Naturally, they didn’t have money to build the temple. So they relied on donations of materials and labour, to whatever extent. We drew designs, sketches and small models to illustrate how we were building. In two and a half years, the temple was built. Although it’s a very tiny project of just a 10 X 10 shrine, it’s a larger landscape project.
DP: What was the narrative and thought process behind Temple of Steps, as it has turned temple architecture on its head a little?
SP: What was interesting is that when we went to the site to take raw material, we used water to cut the stone and found that all the water was just lying there, waste in the quarries, in the low-lying areas. We also saw migratory birds coming and stopping and having water. We then started thinking about a way that we could convert it into a pond, not just a Pushkarni for cleaning the idols, but also a water harvesting structure for the surrounding farms and to recharge the groundwater.
So that entire overlap came from the search for understanding what the project needs to be.
It was interesting when we finally produced the project, which was well received. When I went back to see the Balaji temple, there’s a particular angle where you look at the project and see the water, steps, and the shrine above. Here, the steps actually transform into the temple. It reminded me of an old temple from my childhood in Srinagar, in a place called Rainavari. We had a family house there and used to go to this particular temple to Shiva, where meat was offered to the God as prasadam; it’s one of the only temples I know where they offered mutton. As a child, it was fascinating to see people take mutton into the temple and bring it out onto the riverbank, twirling it around and throwing it in the air for the hawks to pick up. It was really theatrical. The image of this temple by the water in Rainavari, with steps leading to the Jhelum tributary, transported me back to Srinagar. Even though that wasn’t the thought when I started working on the temple, it was just the authorship; even if it’s not conscious, it finds its way through in some sense.
“Some part of you manifests in the project as well.”
But it was because of Anushree and Parth Jindal of JSW Group that we were able to build this temple because they completely believed in this idea.
DP: AI is the new buzzword. How have you adapted it in architecture, design, and teaching?
SP: When it comes to teaching, students don’t need to be trained because they have grown up with this stuff. Teachers need to be trained in AI and its tools. But we need to teach students to develop an eye for value within these iterations. That’s just one part. In practice, we’ve been working to develop an entire structure, from taking a project to drafting working drawings and building on site while examining available AI tools for every process, not just design iteration. We are now working with people to develop missing tools, so eventually we can go from day one to handover completely through AI-based workflows.
