In a conversation with Bijoy Jain, we discuss the process intrinsic to his unique practice and his insight into the issues of design, context, craft, construction and authorship in the foreground of the Ganga Maki Textile Studio – a recent project by Studio Mumbai.
INSIDE [IN]: Tell us about the Ganga Maki Textile Studio. How is this project emblematic to an approach that you subscribe to through your practice?
Bijoy Jain [BJ]: I think, one of the things that we truly explored in the making of the Ganga Maki Textile Studio was the immediacy of the landscape all around. The entire premise of the work was that it emerged from the land. It is the idea of architecture that can be cultivated – much in the same way that farming takes place. Thus, an architecture of this quality is also dependent on the idea of time. The approach does not subscribe to a physical image for the project. There is a framework for every project and one has to form a set of rules: you: define boundaries and limits such that in some way they become the premise of how and why things work the way they do. The idea of harvesting from the land through evolution of time, people, energies, forces; be it economic, political or material – I call them the ‘migrating fields’- is what really gives the project its final form. With the Ganga Maki Textile Studio, it was really important that the architecture, in some way, is connected with the way Chiaki Maki, the client and textile designer, creates her textiles. Her process does not require her to leave the land since her process draws from it. So, the entire project sort of emerged from the earth and all the ‘ingredients’ that make it are physically as well as metaphorically (in some sense) from the immediate context.
[IN]: How does the design and materiality of the project represent this thought of the ‘context’ being a generator of its architecture?
[BJ]: For me, the idea of architecture that is ‘inwards’ or ‘outwards’ is not located within the eye. It is more of a sensory perception of our own internal relationship with space, to that of an external environment. It is about finding that in-between space where there can be porosity – a place that permeates through the skin of the interior as well as exterior. In a way, it is ‘inwards’, but is also ‘outwards’ at the same time. For instance, the Ganga Maki Textile Studio is planned ‘inwards’ as a response to the extreme climate it is located in but at the same time, it is ‘outwards’ where the entire orientation of the project is actually tuned to the moon-cycle. It is based on the lunar flow. There is a water body located in the centre, and in a way, the gesture of that is to capture the full moon. So, water in some sense becomes the central premise of this project. All the materials used require water as a key ingredient to take shape or form: lime, brick, the earth that is used from the site, as well as the stones that are collected from a nearby riverbed. Therefore, it all kind of taps into the ebb and flow of water.
[IN]: Your work has a relationship with the idea of ‘crafting’. Nonetheless, this idea is not the same as the idea of ‘craft’ as it is traditionally perceived in India. How do you perceive the question of craft in your work?
[BJ]: For me craft is embedded in the motivation of making, and the way one remains in that practice of making. In a broader sense of the word, I feel we are all potentially craftsmen. If one were to look beyond a banal idea of ‘cause and effect’, there exists an ethos, that sense of affection, an embodied energy involved in the making of any craft. It is that energy from the inside that is making things, whatever is being manipulated- that for me if of craftsmanship. I am not interested in the idea of purity. I am interested in contamination. Contamination is absolutely important. For me it is these elements and moments that are of great interest. I am absolutely in no nostalgia about craft or its tradition. I think what is important in our practice is that we are harvesting from resources that are freely available to us, there are no vendors or architecture catalogues in our studio. What is important to understand is that today, architecture is defined by commerce, and specifically the industrial commerce that is shaping our built environment. I am just interested in knowing for myself if there is another way to practice and engage with architecture. This is the reason I continue to practice the way I do.
[IN]: What is the nature of this practice?
[BJ]: I think the nature of practice took shape quite organically. It was not planned at all. I am just following what I am drawn towards. Something that has evolved in time across my work (and has become clearer to me now) is this significance of water. Whether it is by the presence or absence of it: I believe the sense of water can also exist in its absence. When I visited The United States of America for the first time in the 60s and 70s, I remember going to the Sculpture Park in St Louis where I went to school. I can still recall seeing sculptures by Michael Heizer, Robert Smithson and being awe-struck. It is an experience that has never left me. Across the diversity of our landscape I have always wanted to make work, in a sort of abstraction that you witness in art. Traditionally if you go back in time, most architects were also artists, and vice-versa. Art, in fact, allows me to challenge my own prejudice. This is very important to me- whether I write, paint, make a film, or build- they are fundamentally part of the same exercise where one informs the other or one learns from the other. I like the idea that the only purpose for something to exist is for itself. It is designed to exist as an idea in itself. When someone says that “this is the only way”, I would think that it is the way for now. We cannot be sure. For me a practice between art and architecture is to make things that exist for their own. Making architecture for the sake of serving a programme or an immediate need is not where it ends for me. I am interested in this idea of things that remain undefined based on time, longevity and endurance.
[IN]: You have worked within and outside India. Within India as well, your projects have been in many distinct contexts. How does your work defer in these contexts?
[BJ]: In my time as a lecturer and practitioner, over the years, I have come to realise that this field of operation is everywhere: today my practice is one where there are no boundaries – physical, lingual, cultural, geographical or of any other kind. Whether I am working with people in Switzerland or Japan or India, my curiosity stems from the same belief of working with an ethos and this way of practice gives me an opportunity to have a conversation in diverse contexts. The practice is in learning to manipulate what is inside to be able to modulate things on the outside. This for me is also the idea of man and nature. I am primarily working without barriers to test this, and I know that this will come with its own nuances, difficulties and mind-sets. In a studio-practice like the one I am involved in, it is not just about tuning in to the project but also about adjusting everything within the studio in response to the project itself. Things are being constantly changed or moved – there is continuous sense of flux inside the workspace. There is a certain ambiguity involved and the way you understand this fluidity of thought and action – it is not possible for one to box it. Architecture is often focused on the sensorial experience of the ‘eye’ or what we see, but I am equally interested in all of the other faculties – the sound, smell and touch.
In the Ganga Maki Textile Studio project, we had three different cultures working on a common process: a Japanese, a Swiss and an Indian applying plaster on the same wall and each one exhibiting a different technique. None of them spoke each other’s language but they each understood what the other was doing: a slight alteration in technique – the way each used their bodies, their tools made the gestures ever so slightly diverse from each other even though they were all working towards making the same thing. This is the kind of cross-cultural idea of making that I am interested in exploring. I want to find these people and how this flow can influence our work. We cannot have a centre-aligned profession anymore, there is potential everywhere and my attempt – through my practice – is to work with this potential⊗
BIJOY JAIN is the principal architect of Studio Mumbai. He received his Masters in Architecture from Washington University in St Louis, USA in 1990. He then worked the office of Richard Meier at Los Angeles and London between 1989 and 1995. His works have been presented in many venues including the Alvar Aalto Symposium, the Architectural League of New York and the Canadian Centre for Architecture, which holds several of his project archives. Founded in 1995, Studio Mumbai is a human infrastructure of skilled craftsmen and architects who design and build the work directly. Gathered through time, this group shares an environment created from an iterative process, where ideas are explored through the production of large-scale mock-ups, models, material studies, sketches and drawings. The essence of their work lies in the relationship between land and architecture, it requires coming to terms with the presence of the environment through the succession of seasons. The acclaimed practice has designed and built significant works in India and abroad.
