Chandigarh - Modernist India — Tuljak! Travel Blog

Chandigarh is not what you would consider a typical place to visit in India. I was fortunate to visit this enchanting 'utopia' as part of the school visit during my graduate school year. As part of the trip, coupled with a short visit to Mumbai, Chandigarh has always been a far-flung place that is perhaps too remote to actually visit on your own. In graduate school, each studio is assigned a travel destination; among the year's choices were Austin, Rio de Janeiro, Beijing, Nashville, and Tokyo. Mumbai and Chandigarh have an air of wonder and intrigue that no other destination could match.

A trip to India is often billed as an ultimate cultural journey. As one prominent writer often put it, India rearranged cultural furniture the best of the other countries. It is a country of complexity, contrast, and vitality. As soon as we stepped out to the curb at the airport, it was a sea of humanity and an overload of our senses. Despite the chaos and painfully apparent poverty, India is where you find exquisite beauty in the gritty cityscape and the burst of life. It could be said that India forced me to think about my own materialistic lifestyle and what constitutes happiness in life.

An item on my architectural bucket list item got ticked off.

As the capital of the Punjab state of India, Chandigarh was planned as a new city after the partition of India when half of the Punjab province was separated into India. The capital of British Punjab, Lahore, fell to the west of the partition and thus became part of a new state of Pakistan. So, there is a need to develop a new capital city for the new Indian Punjab and the adjacent Haryana province. Having one of India's highest per capita incomes, Punjab was looking to construct an Indian metropolis for the future. Chandigarh is a city of optimism. It was a grand experiment in which a modern India could be constructed out of strict architectural planning and spatial hierarchy.

Modernism has had a difficult history adapting to the non-western world's cultural sensibilities. So often, the modernist urban environment was branded from an aerial view. From the grand Brazilian capital of Brasilia to the Communist town of Nowa Huta, the modernist towns often prioritize uniformity with rigidity. Inevitably, the prevailing architectural styles were imposed upon the local population, often with heavy-handed political ideology. Surprisingly, this oppressiveness of modernism did not come across in Chandigarh. Instead, the orderliness and vastness of the parkland was a pleasant reprieve from the chaos of Mumbai from the week before. Broad boulevards and tree canopies replaced the noise and pollution of a big metropolis. Located in northern India, the Punjab state often enjoyed the dry and pleasant breeze. The vegetation and spacious plazas were perfectly made for an evening stroll.

Perhaps due to budgetary limitations, the architecture of Chandigarh has stripped off even the most common modernist ornamentation. What was left was the utilitarian concrete structure that was reminiscent of Le Corbusier's Dom-Ino House. The bare-bone architecture enables the indigenous population to personalize the infill. However, the municipality seems to impose enough regulations to balance the architectural uniformity with the vitality of an Indian city

Perhaps the only criticism a first-time visitor would have to be the wayfinding. The scale of the superblocks and uniform appearance could be a challenge. It certainly does not help that the parts of the city were named after enumerated sectors. How do you get from Sector 27 to Sector 41? It was hard even to take directions from the locals. Despite the seemingly monotonous architectural uniformity, there were plenty of surprises. We walked through the lovely Rose Garden on our way to the capitol complex. At over 30 acres in size, it was purely lovely even out of the peak bloom season. Of course, this being India, there was plenty of kitsch, like a three-story-high Eiffel Tower and a 16-foot-tall Chichen Itza.

The purpose of traveling to Chandigarh for us was to see the modernist-planned city and the Capitol Complex. Undoubtedly, India is the largest democracy in the world. You would expect the seat of the Punjab Government, one of the wealthiest states in the country, to be teeming with activities from both the political class and laymen. It was somewhat disappointing that the access to the capitol complex ground was strictly controlled. Despite obtaining prior approval through the tourism ministry, the check-in process was bureaucratic, and the entire visit was 100% supervised. Perhaps due to the proximity to arch-rival Pakistan, the security measures were tight, and there was a general uneasiness.

The capitol complex by Le Corbusier is anchored by three main buildings: the Legislative Assembly, Punjab and Haryana High Court, and the Secretariat Building. Oddly, we only had permission to visit the interior of the Secretariat Building. Despite that, the structure's interior was full of surprises, from the colorful U-shaped ramp to the delightful roof garden. The characteristic primary colors appeared sporadically throughout the interior, breaking the monotony of the concrete interior. Seeing the physical state of an architectural masterpiece was somewhat disheartening for architecture enthusiasts like us. I understand this is culturally insensitive or politically correct, but it was difficult to get used to. Despite the deterioration, the interior was bright and cheerful. We grabbed a quick lunch at the top floor canteen. The basic meal with government workers was particularly atmospheric in a Le Corbusier building.

After lunch, we decided to try our luck with the Assembly Building. We first tried our luck with the guards at the side entry but were quickly turned down. Just as we decided to give up, we ran into a group of architecture students from the University of Washington. They happened to get prior authorization from the authority to visit the Assembly Building. We ended up pretending to be their students. We later learned from them that they spent a whole semester studying abroad in Chandigarh, something that I can't quite imagine, even though it was indeed a pleasant place to live.

The office cafeteria is especially busy during lunch.

Inside, the public lobby space is filled with a forest of three-story-tall columns with large clerestory windows and occasional skylights. The magic of the interior made one truly appreciate the poetic moment of the architectural ensemble. The dark interior was reminiscent of the cavernous space at Sainte Marie de La Tourette in France. It was a privilege to visit a space like this. Although a secular building, it was a serene space to appreciate the total silence and the somewhat akin to a religious experience.

Assembly Building has an unique sculptural quality.

Even with the help of our friends from Seattle, we were not granted access to the legislative chamber itself. But this is where the Google image search comes in handy. Opposite the building is the High Court, with colorful pillars and external ramps. Unsurprisingly, we were not allowed in again. Midway between the two buildings is the Open Hand Monument by Le Corbusier. Designed as a massive weathervane, the 46-ft tall sculpture symbolizes the peace and prosperity of all mankind. It has since become synonymous with the city, as seen in various artworks around it.

Rock Garden of Chandigarh

The famous Rock Garden of Chandigarh is just across the street from the high court. It is no doubt a must-visit for any visitors. It is quite a difficult way to describe this magical place. It is as if Gaudi's Park Güell moved across the continent and morphed into a fantasy-filled canyon of works by an untrained artist, Nek Chand. The story of Nek Chand is remarkable in its own right. For decades, Chand, who worked as a public work inspector by day, had created his art out of concrete and construction debris in secrecy in a land conversation zone. The creation is a physical manifestation of the heavenly kingdom of Sukrani. The trauma of partition prompted him to recreate the landscape of his childhood Punjabi village.

The artificial canyon of the Rock Garden.

Once it was discovered by the municipal authority in 1975, his life works were threatened with demolition. The clandestine garden quickly garnered support from the locals and convinced the government of public funding. Soon enough, Chand was offered a small army of assistants and funding to further his vision. The glory is not just the ingenuity of one man but also the complex network of waterfalls, gates, and bridges. Don't be surprised you could spend a few hours wandering within the complex and discover all the attention to detail.

Panjab University at Chandigarh

After our official itinerary ended with the Rock Garden, Vasily and I decided to venture out just a few blocks to visit their main university, which was just a 10-minute drive away. Without much prompting, we came across a curious building that could only be done by a master. This being a ‘Corbusier town’, we immediately assume so of this building. It was only that evening that we learned it is the works of Pierre Jeanneret, the cousin of Le Corbusier. Named Gandhi Bhawan, the building is dedicated to the works of Mahatma Gandhi and has an archive, offices, and a small auditorium.

Set in the middle of a reflection pool (unfortunately empty), the building is a fascinating study of geometry and light. The auditorium was particularly lovely, with a hue of a warm glow. It was a better architectural experience than the capital complex. We rarely got to stumble upon an architectural masterpiece out of the blue. Isn't this what traveling is about? The serendipity found is what you will remember and treasure. As we returned to the hotel later tonight, our friend Maxim was distraught about missing out. So I promised that he and I would go back out the next morning.

We returned to the university right after sunrise to keep my promise. Maxim, the adventurer soul, was brought to scout other architectural treasures. The absolute architectural highlight for me on this trip is the unassuming structure beside the Gandhi Bhawan, a building comprising a series of cubic volumes. As we walked toward the entry, the guard gracefully let us in for a quick tour. It is one of the simplest structures you could imagine. Each cubic volume is supported from the central column; the continuous clerestory windows allow a uniform diffused light. An upper-level walkway provides a bird-eye view of the gallery. It is perhaps the most beautiful gallery space I have ever visited.

Used to be the art gallery for the university, it sits vacant until necessary upgrades were completed. It made me think of how the most sublime architecture could also be the most humble. I have found little information about this structure. Because no photography was allowed, I have been trying to find an interior photograph without success. If anyone has ever found one, please let me know!

The unassuming and yet beautiful university art gallery.

Chandigarh is far from a tourist hotspot for foreign visitors. It may not have the traditional flavor of India, but still offers an alternative vision of India that broke down the stereotype of urban India. Unlike other modernist towns, you don't feel the architecture is out of place with the local way of life. In many ways, it broadened my perspective of India. If this is your second visit to India, Chandigarh is well worth a quick visit. I may not guarantee it will be the time of your life. But it breaks down some of the stereotypes you may have about India.

Of course, how could we pass over the delicious Punjabi cuisine? One might argue that Punjab is the stereotypical India we grew up with. While Lahore in Pakistan might offer a more authentic slice of Punjabi culture, Chandigarh holds its own as a modern utopia of India.

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Chandigarh - The Modernist India

Rock Garden of Chandigarh

Panjab University at Chandigarh

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