IS MICKEY MOUSE AT HOME? LOOKING BACK AT GOA'S DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE
By Heta Pandit
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
Goa is a plural society that is in a state of social, cultural and creative
turbulence. I have said this in a recent publication (Seminar-Amchem Goem,
November 2004) and at the risk of repeating myself I am compelled to say it
again.
Take a look at today's local daily, listen to the local FM station and
attend a performance (state-sponsored or otherwise) anywhere in Goa and you
will see what I mean. An entire headline in the local Konkani daily will
actually be in English but scripted in Devnagri; the RJ on the radio will
interact with listeners in Konkani but play music from Bollywood movies and
a Hindustani Classical maestro of national repute will not get a fitting
applause at a concert simply because its time for dinner and time for the
last bus to leave.
Go over the newspapers for a week and you will see laments on how archival
information in libraries is at stake because technology has not caught up
with resources; how mindless entertainment has replaced the serious
exhibition of art, cinema, literature, folklore and environmental education.
In my book 'Houses of Goa' (co-authored with Annabel Mascarenhas) we
spoke of the houses of the mid-18th century onwards up to the middle
of the 20th century being a reflection of the Goan identity. We said
that just as the Portuguese power in the East began to decline,
Goans came into their own and began to press on with their own
collective memories and work these memories out through various
mediums.
These mediums were art, sculpture, music, tiatr (or tiatro) and traditional
Goan houses. We did not describe them as traditional Goan houses in the book
and I am using the nomenclature here with the intention of including those
houses that were built by the master builders of Goa using traditional
methods, materials and techniques.
In 1998 when we wrote the book, we did not feel the need to qualify these
houses. For us, there were no other houses that were to be considered worth
writing about. In the year 2001, a panic attack that in fact these
traditional methods, materials and techniques had to be recorded for
posterity compelled me to bring out a book titled 'Hidden Hands --
Master-builders of Goa'.
When I look around me today, this panic attack has given way to
intellectual hysteria. Traditional masons, carpenters, potters,
painters and metal casters are hard to find and a lot of the
traditional houses are crumbling almost in front of our eyes. And
replacing these silent, beautiful and gentle mansions smothered in
greenery are blocks of concrete painted in shouts of loud colours
projecting architectural forms that look as if they have popped out
of a Disney cartoon strip. For want of a more apt term, I have
chosen to call it Mickey Mouse architecture.
Why is there such a difference between traditional housing and contemporary
housing in Goa? For one thing, architecture is limited by the technology and
exposure of the time in which it is built. It is a reflection of the
homeowners' taste, education and travel experience. In the past, it was also
the product of the Goan crafts-person's ability for ingenious adaptation. In
the past, although some of these elements were shared as collective memory,
the houses of Goa also displayed an imprint of individuality.
Within the scope of this expression of individuality Goan houses fell into
distinct categories. There was the single-storied house, the half-storied
house and the double-storied house.
Typically, houses had an entrance area where visitors were entertained or
screened on arrival. A passage or corridor cut the house in half with the
formal reception room on one side and the master's bedroom or study on the
other. The dining room was usually perpendicular to these rooms; the
bedrooms flanked the courtyard and the kitchens and service areas at the
rear of the house.
Half storied houses had high plinths with an impressive flight of stairs
leading to the balcao or veranda. Built-in seats placed in rather curious
fashion (on the steps with each seat on a step or facing back-to-back on the
balcao) added to the posture or stature of the house.
Double storied houses were modelled after Portuguese houses of aristocrats
of the 18th century. Typically, these houses had the reception room and
bedrooms on the upper floor and kitchen and service areas on the ground
floor. This separated the homeowners from servants and dependants (often
impoverished relatives) and allowed the dramatic tableau of two varying
lifestyles being enacted under one roof.
Dramatic and startling colours have always played an important role
in Goan architecture. Colour has been used as a device to
distinguish ownership and reiterate identity. Appearances bear
considerable importance in architecture just as they do in social
life.
Very few buildings are exactly alike and although solid colours were used in
the past for front facades, interiors were usually in yellow ochre and doors
and windows rendered in white.
This rendering or piping in white had a reason. During the Portuguese
occupation of Goa there was an unwritten rule that no private house or
building could be painted in white. Only churches and chapels enjoyed this
privilege. It is understandable that Goan Christians followed this unwritten
rule as white was associated with the Virgin and therefore the virtues of
purity and chastity (both desirable in Goa) but it comes as a surprise that
Goan Hindus also respected the rule.
As a result of this code, an aesthetically pleasing and interesting trend
developed. Natural pigments were used to cover houses. Competition amongst
neighbours gave an impetus to variation. Colour was an additive and used
purely to create a sensation. With a colour wash, the house looked 'dressed'
and therefore displayed the economic well being of the family that lived in
it. Here art in architecture performed a social function.
Very few of the above-mentioned social values have survived today and that
of course is one reason why Goans do not build as before. Large households
with several generations sharing the same roof and kitchen have given way to
smaller family units. The way we cook and what we eat has also changed over
the years and the arrival of modern sanitary amenities has changed the way
we build.
Instead of travelling to China, Japan, Europe, Portuguese Africa and Brazil
in search of business or pleasure, we now travel to other parts of India,
North America, Australia and the Middle East. Naturally, the influences
Goans bring back from these countries are different from the influences and
ideas that their ancestors brought back.
Change is inevitable and reflective of a dynamic society. But change
is almost always in the context of continuance. In contemporary Goan
architecture, in the house where Mickey Mouse lives, there is no
comfort of continuity in change. Let us examine why such is the
case.
One reason could be that owners who have no personal history of owning
houses commission these Mickey Mouse houses. They send instructions "to add
on rooms" in bits and spurts "as they earn" with the result that you have
rooms perched one on top of the other like in Asterix in Egypt.
Bottle balusters and narrow balconies, triangular pediments appear on these
houses like stick-on diamond bindis on a ski-suit while sloping roofs like
little hats sit over mithai-box water tanks. These are meant to reflect
'heritage'. Only, the builders of Mickey Mouse houses forget that in the
traditional houses they served a purpose. Here, they are simply decorative.
Perhaps these elements of style from the past have been selected by the
builders of these houses simply because they are cheaply available from
roadside vendors of concrete accessories. Perhaps they are thrown into these
buildings simply because they do not add to or take away from the general
mess of things.
Research in a subject as complex as this defies conclusion; but I have come
to this one conclusion. From what we have seen so far, it appears that
traditional Goan houses are the way they are because homeowners actually
took a keen interest in their own homes and worked with master-builders
closely.
There were master-builders who were associated with families for generations;
who were paid in rice, fruit, flowers, vegetables and coconuts and invited
to preside over house-warming ceremonies. Homeowners and builders have been
known to scratch out floor plans on the ground together with the simplest
tool of all -- a twig, branch or a stick.
Today, with access to technological gizmos and the Net there in fact seems
to be a vast gap in communication between the sponsors and their cash-paid
contractors. Finally, as they say, it is all a matter of feeling. And how
can we expect feelings to be generated in a society that is in a social,
cultural and creative turbulent state?
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Heta Pandit lives and works in Goa as a writer and
heritage activist. This comment-piece had been done for the Goa College of
Architecture magazine. She has lead a team of conservation enthusiasts to
frame critical issues, network with officialdom and raise public awareness
through events like the earlier-held Fontainhas Fest. In cyberspace, you can
join the Goa Heritage Action Group's informal network by sending a blank
email to [EMAIL PROTECTED] or visiting
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/goaheritage
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