I have three ideas:
.
1. Social impact bonds. Leveraging public dollars with private / nonprofit innovation and accountability.
.
2. Outcomes-based permitting. Offering greater flexibility in urban design in order to stimulate private investment.
.
3. Reclamation of government owned land for public space. Using vacant space (e.g., alleyways, utility corridors, overhead and underground railways) as parks, open space, public gardens, etc.
.
What is your one big idea for cities in 2012? Submit a blog post to info@theurbanvision.com along with a bio & Pic.
photo credit: OiMax
Tag Archives: Urbanism
photo credit: Flávio Eiró Architects begin with programs …
photo credit: Flávio Eiró
Architects begin with programs for building. The program is measurable, quantifiable, a finite entity (something that accountants love). But life is about aspirations, hope, joy and expression. All things immeasurable, non quantifiable but connected to our feelings. Ultimately we are what we are by how we feel. Seemingly impossible tasks can be achieved if we feel that we can achieve them. Can building programs, can buildings reveal the richness of life? Is it the building or is it the space it contains or is it the experience of form, space and light which elicits responses deep within us? How does one synthesise the measurable and the immeasurable
ARCHITECTURE – A BACKDROP TO LIFE
Many years ago, at the beginning of the monsoon, standing and watching the town of Mandawa in Rajasthan spread out below, the day turned dark all of a sudden. Dust laden gusts of violent wind whistled through the streets. Claps of thunder followed, the plaintive cries of peacocks pierced this maelstrom. The air turned cool, dark clouds engulfed the horizon, there was a smell of wet earth and then huge gobs of water fell from the sky. Women and children rushed outdoors. People danced in joyous abandon in the streets. The waters gushed from gargoyles and crashed onto the ground. Swift moving streams of water covered the narrow streets. Children made boats of sticks and paper and ran splashing alongside their creations. Saris and skirts which had a few moments ago swirled in the wind and hidden all, turned diaphanous and revealed unexpected contours. Drops of water caressed the mouldings along the parapet. The delicate patterns in relief on these mouldings seemed to come alive as the contrast between the wet and the dry heightened. In that instant it all seemed so obvious. The oversized gargoyles in a place with very little rainfall, the delicacy of the mouldings, the stone basins where the waters fell, the plinths jutting out to capture the effluence of the walls, all waiting in anticipation for this one moment in time. The purpose of the buildings and their details to heighten this drama of life, to celebrate, to bring joy became apparent. The measurable and the immeasurable fused to produce a passion best summed up in the lines of a seventh century Indian poet:
Flashing streaks of lightning,
Drifting fragrance of tropical pines,
Thunder sounding from gathering clouds,
Peacocks crying in amorous tones –
How will long – lashed maids pass
These emotion – laden days in their lovers’ absence?
PUBLIC REALM – SPACE AND BREATH
Whilst travelling through Italy I discovered a curious phenomenon. This phenomenon seemed common to Sienna, Assisi, Perugia and many similar small but historically significant towns. While walking in their streets, the buildings that lined them though not particularly tall appeared to be tall. The rich fenestration on them cast deep shadows. This pattern of light and dark was in direct contrast to the the narrow blue ribbon of sky visible directly above. The temperature at the time of the day, coupled with varying slopes of the ground led to a posture of walking where the head was held high and the neck taut, the eyes flitting and flitting and roving at the myriad of shadows and occasionally squinting towards the bright sky. From this emerged a pattern of breathing while traversing the street. As the breath rate increased and one became “out of breath”, one would invariably arrive at a plaza. There would be a release of the breath. The muscles of the neck, shoulders and calf would ease. Very often the plaza would also connect one’s vision to the distant horizon. All confinement of breath, vision and muscles would ease. The plaza would be a place of meeting of similar people “at ease”. Cafes spilling outdoors would surround the plaza. The smell of coffee and confectionery would stir the taste buds. Casual meetings, business or lover’s rendezvous, this was the place.
I wondered, whether this was planned, designed,
circumstantial, happenstance? Perhaps, cities with great public
spaces and breathing had a lot in common! I gathered that
architecture was about the body, all the five senses, memory
and time and not only of the eye and certainly not of
measurement alone.
UTILITY – OPPORTUNITY FOR DEEP CONNECTIONS
In a dry dusty landscape not far from Ahmedabad in a chaotic village ensemble of mud and brick buildings, sits an amazing structure from the fifteenth century – the stepwell of Adalaj. It was made to provide a necessary utility – the access to water.However, this simple task is enriched by the manner of it’s manifestation. Wherever a stepwell links the brilliant Indian sun to a clear pool of water, two seperate worlds are joined. In the well’s stone corridors people move between one realm and the other. Excavation is balanced by construction – one pair of opposites in a series that includes sky and water, solid and liquid, empty and full.
Although the surrounding village teems with life, gossip, children and animals, the hubbub is forgotten in the formality and silence of the stepwell. Yet in the well every sound is magnified; nothing is louder than a pigeon’s wings moving or a slight splash. Surrounded by stone and sky, you do not see the water until reaching the last flight of steps. At that point, well and sky are presented twice, once by the architecture itself, and once mirrored in the water. This unfolding and doubling is exaggerated after the monsoons, when the well is flooded and only the column capitals show above the water.
You feel weightless near the water, in a peaceful loss of
orientation to the world above, as if you are suspended in
another state of mind. Time in it is so slow that you forget that
anything is urgent. The experience is truly mesmerizing.
Communal celebrations, pujas take place in this space and I
imagine lovers meet and sometimes like I wandered in, an
individual gets a peep inside him or herself.
SYMBOLS – CONNECTIONS BETWEEN HEAVEN AND EARTH
Perhaps, the wise scholar, statesman and founder of Jaipur, Maharaja Jaisingh built the “Jantar Mantar”, not because the oversized instruments could better map the celestial realm. But to serve as powerful symbols to remind his people of the fusion of the measurable and the immeasurable. To reclaim awe and wonder from the most fundamental act of nature. The movement of the sun. To inspire each citizen beyond the daily, mundane worldly existence of this world and time and connect their aspirations to something larger than themselves, grander and timeless, the heavens, perhaps the infinite.
LIFE – A DYNAMIC PROCESS
As life progresses, it reveals it’s continuity and unfolds the absence of our self created barriers and divisions. What is private become public sometimes and what is public, private on occasion. Matter, seemingly inert comes alive and a dialogue happens, gatherings happen, celebrations take place. Public space is giving occasion for this to happen, spontaneously! Doshi often relates an anecdote which I believe is relevant at this point. Once in Mr. PL Verma’s office, the then Chief Engineer of Chandigarh in the midst of some discussion, Corbusier asked rhetorically, “What is the truth really?” Then he drew two parallel lines, with a wavy line in between. “Truth is like a river,” he said, “it flows continuously, changing course, modifying itself, without ever touching either bank”. Truth is the process of evolution. Perhaps, one should say that life is that process of evolution!
Life is not only between buildings – it is everywhere! Embrace it!!
PERCEPTION noun 1. the representation of what is …
PERCEPTION
noun
1. the representation of what is perceived; basic component in the formation of a concept [syn: percept] WordNet® 3.0, © 2006 by Princeton University.
In the quest for progressive and developing approaches to design, it becomes essential to begin at the root of the process of conceptualization. How do we deal with the complexities of a city? What influences design? What makes us approach a design problem in a certain way? Why do we prefer one aesthetic of a design solution over the other? How do the masses relate to design?
The answer to these questions lies obscured within the undertones of a single word – Perception.
As creative individuals responsible for the transition of cities within developing countries a lot counts on our perception of development priorities essential for further growth. Today India is in the forefront on many aspects on a global sphere. We are rightfully taking our place as entrepreneurs in fields ranging from information technology to mega business practices. We stand tall at this moment in time, where we have made it to the moon and the oscars. However are we proving ourselves as fore runners in the field of architecture and place making? Are we designing our cities as benchmarks for the world? Or are we content with designing the “standard” mall which contribute to our cities in no other way than being large energy consuming built masses? Have we conceived a formula for the “Indian Mall” which caters to our context? We have had great architects of the likes of Corbusier and Kahn work in this country, paving the way for future generations of Indian architects. However the question arises are we ready to sculpt a vision that is entirely our own for our cities?
Once upon a time Indian cities grew from a unified vision of urbanism and collective dwelling. A time when India defined her own ideologies and evolved from her own sciences and techniques of construction. Some of these baffle structural engineers even today. These ideologies are evident in the fascinating structures/cities such as the Taj Mahal, Red Fort, Fathepur Sikri, Jantar Mantar, Jaipur and other built forms that respond to our climate, culture and context. These Built forms have been able to offer themselves as evolving transitional urban platforms surviving and educating generations of our heritage .
During the late 1800’s India lost her rhythm in a bid to dance to a new tune in the form of colonial influence. We were seduced with a vision of progress and a perception of a modern industrial India. We have been blindsided by this seductive occupation of years and have forgotten the essence of the Indian city. We are now seeing history repeat itself. Our trust in our own selves has divindled. For instance do we really need our projects to be LEED accredited? A foreign organization, with foreign standards, for standard building typologies which do not apply to our contexts or our economic sensibilities. Yes we do need to care for the environment, but lets remind ourselves that India has been a sustainable nation since its conception. Our rituals and culture have always thrived on the notion for man to live as one with the environment. And we have not spent millions of dollars to do this. We have been recycling since the birth of the raddiwalla. Our villages have been existing on bio fuels prior to the Raj. We are one of the oldest cultures in the world. We would not have sustained through the ages if we were unable to co-exist with our natural environment. We have much to offer the world on a global scale. However our word is not good enough. We need to prove with action and implementation. Indian cities need to respond with vision, technology, adaptability and courage.
It is extremely important that urban designers question the perception of an “Indian City”. Is it Chandigarh? Is it New Bombay? Auroville? Or is it one of Calvino’s invisible cities – a perception of fantasy? It is after all our own perceptions of the world that would enable us to envision the true global Indian city. The best tool to enable this vision – research.
Architectural research does not have to be limited to documentation and analysis of historic structures, but should be involved with pushing the envelope of design through testing of radical ideas. Archigram famously created a vision of a plug in city. Interestingly enough B.V.Doshi’s Aranya works on a similar logic – a microcosm where every inhabitant has the freedom of choice to build with whatever, however. This creates the opportunity for the formulation of a radically and constantly evolving fabric. Yet we stand steadfast eyes focussed west in the hope of attaining a “foreign standardized” solution that may cost us millions in tax payers money to achieve. If we are to learn from the west let us do it from the spirit behind Corbusier’s research of architecture through sketches, art and sculptures. Let us learn from Kahn’s dedication of 14 years with the IIM. Let us learn from the passion behind the research of form in Gehrys study models or from the analytical compilation of OMA’s interpretations of cities of the world. Are we confident in ourselves to surpass traditional design tools to make way for the new dynamic thought processes?
The Indian designer is faced with many challenges. Apart from dealing with the complexities of the Indian context, the arrival of western design behemoths raises the question of survival for the local firms. In order to sustain we have begun to hesitate with our dynamic experimentations with sustainability, technology, culture, heritage, form, materiality and modernity. In most cases we have agreed to form associations with these firms where we are no longer involved in design but in creating documentations for them. In A+D’s special edition 2009, the sketch of “US Architectural Giants” on a seesaw “knocking out smaller practices” by artist Sanil Kumar was humorous but at the same time raises a huge question of the importance of boutique design practices. What can smaller firms offer that large “US Architectural Giants” do not and vice versa? If we look on a global level it is the smaller studios who have laid the foundations for the larger “Giants” to follow. Small firms that have continued to question the norms of architecture on a global scale have in time evolved into “Giants” in their own right. Firms such as Richard Meier Associates, Peter Eisenman Associates, Tschumi Associates, Zaha Hadid Associates and many others started out as small studios, or in some cases out of bedrooms of their apartments that exploded as offices, that set the benchmark for architecture.
Our roles as creative entrepreneaurs has to be guided by a process of intelligence and discovery. If we are looking west why look at only their historic theories/models and not at the vision they are cultivating for their future cities? Why not adopt political strategies that have revitalized dead and decaying neighborhoods? We need to do our homework. We are amongst the highest IQ people in the world, yet we back away from art and research. We seem to lack the understanding that these two aspects have been the driving forces for the progress of many western neighborhoods. Can we learn from Manhattans SoHo which in the 70’s was revitalised into todays dynamic and buzzing district, by the initial inclusion of the artist communities within the decaying fabric. The industrial backwater town of Bilbao was transformed by the introduction of a museum that negotiates with the city around itself, into one of the most celebrated cities in the world, generating millions of dollars in touristic revenue, is another example of creativity as a force for the future. Can we learn from these strategies vs blindly implementing standardized control systems? The above mentioned are but the tip of what makes cities urbane as well as gives them a concrete identity. Taking into the precedence of what happened in SOHO,NYC, the city of Baltimore is taking an initiative to looking for artistic and creative solutions to help vitalize their decaying city. One can not begin to fathom the endless opportunities that will soon be available to Baltimore to help it transform itself.
As future sculptors of Indian urbanism we will be unable to realize the full potential of Indian cities without the aspect of research. The cultivation of radical ideologies predominantly in architecture school is critical as they offer the ideal conditions for developing new theories which could be employed into practice.
As designers involved with the development of global India we have many complex forces to encounter within our context. we have to deal with the burden of history and a future of endless possibilities without compromising on our complexity and our culture. Our cities have a huge historic content which is embedded in their cores. In todays context, these ancient sculptures offer rich surreal urban spaces. We can not afford for them to disappear into the banality of global standardization. They are testaments of our heritage that are inscribed within the fabric of our cities.
Indian cities today are positioned to engage in a Robert Moses vs. Jane Jacobs dialogue. On our path of progress, we require moses’s highways and jacobs’s neighborhoods. We have the possibility of creating a new paradigm – one that is rich with culture, heritage, social interactions and modernity. The world is enrich with histories of cities of the world for us to learn from. Technology makes this information available for all to utilize and wield with intelligence.
India is in a state of “Awakening” to a new dawn. The choices we make for our cities could stand as a testament for the world to see and model itself after. We have the opportunity for Moses and jacobs to walk hand in hand. How fantastic would an Indian city be if we were to retain the essence of both? We are in a position to create our own Bilbaos for the world to look at. The west used to be the land of opportunity and promise. Today that land is India. Let us not repeat history but strive to create it.
This Article was earlier published in A+D
India is a place where complexity and chaos …
India is a place where complexity and chaos are embraced as key ingredients in the warp and weft of the urban fabric.
Indian culture also embraces patience. She has waited, and can wait: the still center around which a whorl of change and continuity, parochialism and vision, the very old and the very new join one another in a cosmic dance.
This center is the Extended Indian Family. The business of the nation is passed from generation to generation within this Family, along with language, tradition, and culture. Indians love their extended family, whether freely or out of obligation. They choose to share the same or adjacent living quarters at every socio-economic stratum. Wisdom is dispensed therein; support is given and empathy is freely available.
The nurturing world view required for the selflessness the Family demands has, besides the patience at its center, a tolerant if not respectful attitude towards others. This has enabled a large number of ethnic, racial, and religious groups to live side by side peacefully.
The Family is a refuge from the limits imposed by society. The caste system was, and is, hereditary. Poverty and wealth are hereditary as well. Even governance, where a Gandhi trumps political opposition generation after generation, has a strong familial element.
Enumerating the requirements of a city built to accommodate this moment and the future India must begin with this building block.
Ironically, Indians are now highly mobile within their own country. The newly educated and rapidly expanding middle class participates in a mass migration towards centers of technology and commerce and the prosperity they offer. What begins to break down is the Family. Parents, siblings, uncles and aunts; grandparents and their families are left behind as millions move to Hyderabad and Bangalore and fifty other cities destined to become decentralized centers in the internet age.
What these people achieve is held in very high esteem. Education, affluence, and professional growth conspire to create wealth and erode the Family at the same time. Across the country workers stagger home from 12-hour work days to new apartment blocks, going from co-workers to the television instead of to a relative for gossip and comfort.
They stay in touch with their family members by phone and computer but the physical proximity of others one takes for granted in Indian families is overtaken by the suspicions the culture encourages towards strangers.
Compound this suspicion with an environment of apartment towers which isolate the nuclear family from the ground and from their neighbors, a sense of alienation can arise.
The only public realm is for shopping. Malls and superstores are the town squares of 20th century America and India is following suit.
Slums, interestingly, have the urban infrastructure of a medieval Mediterranean city. Closed to vehicular traffic, they have narrow lanes where every inhabitant knows his neighbor. Urban infrastructure is improvisational but organized and includes waste removal, fire prevention, shopping, medical care, and restaurants.
This lies behind the squalor others pity or fear. It is fragile, but not ramshackle, chaotic but not lacking in clear hierarchy. When tower blocks are built for displaced slum dwellers, many choose a different slum, renting or just giving up their new quarters.
Still, slums appall for good reason. Squalor is the stuff of poverty, and poverty is the realm of the marginalized, disenfranchised and uneducated. The problems of poverty are innumerable; the solutions as varied and complex.
A good place to start would be education. If every man, woman, and child in India had access to basic literacy training and trade school, it would provide many with ascent from abject poverty.
How ironic that the poor can have a strong sense of community but the middle class may be without it, living in new tower blocks isolated from one another.
Starting out with basic goals for these groups of the population: we could propose places for informal interaction for the middle class and basic skill-driven education for the poor. These could be programmatic elements in a new Urban Infrastructure.
What of the rich? Popular belief is that they can take care of themselves very well. They can afford to live with extended family in the traditional manner, and they work and live along side their relatives. The wealthy also have enclaves for gathering with one anther, preferring other people of means as social companions.
One thing the wealthy do desire is immortality. That is why, in the west, they endow colleges, donate buildings, fund research programs and do other works that will bear their name beyond the limits of their mortal lives. Indians venerate their ancestors and that itself, along with respect for elders still living is itself a noble practice.
Western-style philanthropy seems uncommon among wealthy Indians. Indutopia (encouraged by the civil government, itself led by a cross section of the city population) this type of largess would be celebrated and elevated to the highest level of prestige.
The cultural institutions would have benefactors: theatres, music halls, cricket grounds; but so would the neighborhoods of the poor. This, the most populous part of Indutopia, would have quarters bearing any name their benefactor would choose. And what the benefactor could fund is one of the noblest gestures in the teeming city: transformation of the most poor into a class of workers with simple, but useful skills.
Among the simple masonry midrise apartment buildings that house the poor, there would be a network of open plazas with roofs so they can be used year round. In these, the same lesson of the same class would be taught eight hours each day, so people could manage them with other obligations in their lives.
There could be eight sessions, with attendance taken, with midterm exams, and a final one at 12 weeks with examination at the end and a certificate given to show prospective employers. As many of the attendees will be illiterate, testing methods would accommodate this. The classes themselves would build skill sets as is the custom in ordinary school.
Basic literacy, in Hindi and in English, would always be offered, as reading and writing are the first steps out of desperate poverty.
Graduating students would go on to be mechanics, word processors, domestic staff; hotel housekeeping crews, chauffeurs, and will fill all of the menial jobs with the advantage of training and basic literacy. This gives them an edge up in competition for these positions, and may even result in a slight uptick in wages.
Each plaza and the service it renders could be financed (with plaques and ceremonies documenting the event) by the wealthy or groups of middle class citizens. Largess is at the core of all religions, so the gesture could be viewed as piety as well.
Sell philanthropy to the new India. Its wealth and its capacity to help so many are new. There could be posh benefactor’s club, and opportunities to pay for urban amenities are always plentiful and always a cause for celebration.
For the Middle Class a place to meet informally or just experience the presence of others would help offset loneliness. Idealized streets, with shops and fountains and shade tree, could combine with plazas containing restaurants and night clubs (and produce markets during the day) to provide a forum for the chance encounters that humanity sees to thrive upon. Eventually acquaintances would be made, and then friends for those who want them.
In this quarter of the city one may encounter cinemas, a theatre, monuments to Iconic Indians, and opportunities for the wealthy to share their abundance.
Highrise office buildings could identify the city center, a city with life 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
The model for this quarter of the town would be any traditional Mediterranean city. In Italy, the “passagiatta” at day’s end is the time
after the heat of the day when the bourgeoisie stroll through the pedestrian quarters of the city to meet and run into friends and acquaintances. In 21st century India however, the streets and squares are carved out of vast parking structures 6 meters in height and fronted on all sides with shops and other urban amenities.
Light manufacturing or back office space could also occupy these spaces, receiving natural light from above through skylights cut into the roof. Whole zones of this space devoted to noon-polluting activities would be inexpensive to erect and would grow outwards as demand for this space increases.
Atop these gargantuan structures, apartment towers rise in sylvan grace amidst densely planted gardens. Their inhabitants would be living in towers in the park, overlooking a pedestrian city bereft of carbon monoxide and honking horns.
This configuration would inevitably be stratified according to social convention, with shops and housing in synch with the level of its occupants’ affluence.
It would also guarantee consistency as the city grows. Parking and back office space built to accommodate demand would have the structure built into it to support housing that may not be needed at that time. Conversely, housing would have to be built on the garden podium to go up.
A Masterplan free enough to actually be put to use without penalty to developers would have to be enforced for a period of three generations.
A city organized in this way could approach the perfect modern Indian city: largess and opportunity for the poor; an ideal mix of city and garden for the middle and upper classes, and a social order informed in part by philanthropy for all.
INDUTOPIA: REMARKS ON THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY INDIAN CITY
India is a place where complexity and chaos are embraced as key ingredients in the warp and weft of the urban fabric.
Indian culture also embraces patience. She has waited, and can wait: the still center around which a whorl of change and continuity, parochialism and vision, the very old and the very new join one another in a cosmic dance.
This center is the Extended Indian Family. The business of the nation is passed from generation to generation within this Family, along with language, tradition, and culture. Indians love their extended family, whether freely or out of obligation. They choose to share the same or adjacent living quarters at every socio-economic stratum. Wisdom is dispensed therein; support is given and empathy is freely available.
The nurturing world view required for the selflessness the Family demands has, besides the patience at its center, a tolerant if not respectful attitude towards others. This has enabled a large number of ethnic, racial, and religious groups to live side by side peacefully.
The Family is a refuge from the limits imposed by society. The caste system was, and is, hereditary. Poverty and wealth are hereditary as well. Even governance, where a Gandhi trumps political opposition generation after generation, has a strong familial element.
Enumerating the requirements of a city built to accommodate this moment and the future India must begin with this building block.
Ironically, Indians are now highly mobile within their own country. The newly educated and rapidly expanding middle class participates in a mass migration towards centers of technology and commerce and the prosperity they offer. What begins to break down is the Family. Parents, siblings, uncles and aunts; grandparents and their families are left behind as millions move to Hyderabad and Bangalore and fifty other cities destined to become decentralized centers in the internet age.
What these people achieve is held in very high esteem. Education, affluence, and professional growth conspire to create wealth and erode the Family at the same time. Across the country workers stagger home from 12-hour work days to new apartment blocks, going from co-workers to the television instead of to a relative for gossip and comfort.
They stay in touch with their family members by phone and computer but the physical proximity of others one takes for granted in Indian families is overtaken by the suspicions the culture encourages towards strangers.
Compound this suspicion with an environment of apartment towers which isolate the nuclear family from the ground and from their neighbors, a sense of alienation can arise.
The only public realm is for shopping. Malls and superstores are the town squares of 20th century America and India is following suit.
Slums, interestingly, have the urban infrastructure of a medieval Mediterranean city. Closed to vehicular traffic, they have narrow lanes where every inhabitant knows his neighbor. Urban infrastructure is improvisational but organized and includes waste removal, fire prevention, shopping, medical care, and restaurants.
This lies behind the squalor others pity or fear. It is fragile, but not ramshackle, chaotic but not lacking in clear hierarchy. When tower blocks are built for displaced slum dwellers, many choose a different slum, renting or just giving up their new quarters.
Still, slums appall for good reason. Squalor is the stuff of poverty, and poverty is the realm of the marginalized, disenfranchised and uneducated. The problems of poverty are innumerable; the solutions as varied and complex.
A good place to start would be education. If every man, woman, and child in India had access to basic literacy training and trade school, it would provide many with ascent from abject poverty.
How ironic that the poor can have a strong sense of community but the middle class may be without it, living in new tower blocks isolated from one another.
Starting out with basic goals for these groups of the population: we could propose places for informal interaction for the middle class and basic skill-driven education for the poor. These could be programmatic elements in a new Urban Infrastructure.
What of the rich? Popular belief is that they can take care of themselves very well. They can afford to live with extended family in the traditional manner, and they work and live along side their relatives. The wealthy also have enclaves for gathering with one anther, preferring other people of means as social companions.
One thing the wealthy do desire is immortality. That is why, in the west, they endow colleges, donate buildings, fund research programs and do other works that will bear their name beyond the limits of their mortal lives. Indians venerate their ancestors and that itself, along with respect for elders still living is itself a noble practice.
Western-style philanthropy seems uncommon among wealthy Indians. Indutopia (encouraged by the civil government, itself led by a cross section of the city population) this type of largess would be celebrated and elevated to the highest level of prestige.
The cultural institutions would have benefactors: theatres, music halls, cricket grounds; but so would the neighborhoods of the poor. This, the most populous part of Indutopia, would have quarters bearing any name their benefactor would choose. And what the benefactor could fund is one of the noblest gestures in the teeming city: transformation of the most poor into a class of workers with simple, but useful skills.
Among the simple masonry midrise apartment buildings that house the poor, there would be a network of open plazas with roofs so they can be used year round. In these, the same lesson of the same class would be taught eight hours each day, so people could manage them with other obligations in their lives.
There could be eight sessions, with attendance taken, with midterm exams, and a final one at 12 weeks with examination at the end and a certificate given to show prospective employers. As many of the attendees will be illiterate, testing methods would accommodate this. The classes themselves would build skill sets as is the custom in ordinary school.
Basic literacy, in Hindi and in English, would always be offered, as reading and writing are the first steps out of desperate poverty.
Graduating students would go on to be mechanics, word processors, domestic staff; hotel housekeeping crews, chauffeurs, and will fill all of the menial jobs with the advantage of training and basic literacy. This gives them an edge up in competition for these positions, and may even result in a slight uptick in wages.
Each plaza and the service it renders could be financed (with plaques and ceremonies documenting the event) by the wealthy or groups of middle class citizens. Largess is at the core of all religions, so the gesture could be viewed as piety as well.
Sell philanthropy to the new India. Its wealth and its capacity to help so many are new. There could be posh benefactor’s club, and opportunities to pay for urban amenities are always plentiful and always a cause for celebration.
For the Middle Class a place to meet informally or just experience the presence of others would help offset loneliness. Idealized streets, with shops and fountains and shade tree, could combine with plazas containing restaurants and night clubs (and produce markets during the day) to provide a forum for the chance encounters that humanity sees to thrive upon. Eventually acquaintances would be made, and then friends for those who want them.
In this quarter of the city one may encounter cinemas, a theatre, monuments to Iconic Indians, and opportunities for the wealthy to share their abundance.
Highrise office buildings could identify the city center, a city with life 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
The model for this quarter of the town would be any traditional Mediterranean city. In Italy, the “passagiatta” at day’s end is the time
after the heat of the day when the bourgeoisie stroll through the pedestrian quarters of the city to meet and run into friends and acquaintances. In 21st century India however, the streets and squares are carved out of vast parking structures 6 meters in height and fronted on all sides with shops and other urban amenities.
Light manufacturing or back office space could also occupy these spaces, receiving natural light from above through skylights cut into the roof. Whole zones of this space devoted to noon-polluting activities would be inexpensive to erect and would grow outwards as demand for this space increases.
Atop these gargantuan structures, apartment towers rise in sylvan grace amidst densely planted gardens. Their inhabitants would be living in towers in the park, overlooking a pedestrian city bereft of carbon monoxide and honking horns.
This configuration would inevitably be stratified according to social convention, with shops and housing in synch with the level of its occupants’ affluence.
It would also guarantee consistency as the city grows. Parking and back office space built to accommodate demand would have the structure built into it to support housing that may not be needed at that time. Conversely, housing would have to be built on the garden podium to go up.
A Masterplan free enough to actually be put to use without penalty to developers would have to be enforced for a period of three generations.
A city organized in this way could approach the perfect modern Indian city: largess and opportunity for the poor; an ideal mix of city and garden for the middle and upper classes, and a social order informed in part by philanthropy for all.