Gateways to our cities

India’s new airports use an international architectural language, but a local twist might have been interesting, suggests Anand Sankar

What is it about airport design that gets even those not usually interested in architecture excited? Is it the scale? Or is it — as many, especially in developing countries like ours, believe —that an airport is a reflection of our collective aspirations, and therefore a national icon? With the recent commissioning of the new terminal in Delhi, we can now afford to sit back and look to when the country’s first privatised airport, in Kochi, was a reflection of change — yet, that airport now already looks dated, provincial even, as those winds have now blown over Delhi, Hyderabad and Bangalore, carrying with them an expression of not local but international architecture, for airports are increasingly seen as part of a global context.

 

Reduced to their basic function, airports are terminals, places where people pass through as they catch their flights either within or to other countries, something that demands efficiency. But looked at in the way airports are increasingly used — as transfer points, true, but also for changing aircrafts, as destinations when the time between flights can be a few hours or more, as meeting junctions, as venues for conferences, sometimes even for recreation — it is hardly surprising that they then become micro-cities: restaurants, understandably, play a large part in absorbing people who may be hungry, have a few hours to kill, or simply want to enjoy the hours they might otherwise have had to remain confined to their seats. Shopping adds to that experience, and if the retail is sensitively chosen, and placed, can become a major revenue earner.

But if these commercial considerations add glamour to airports, the main function — transfers, security and check-in, immigration, customs and so on — are typically backroom functions that need to be enhanced so they do not appear as speedbreakers in the overall experience. As a result, airports around the world are tending to make architectural statements that are overwhelmingly global, and often futuristic. Steel and glass, huge expanses, atrium ceilings, natural light, unimpeded passenger flows — these make up some of the more important factors, and if the airports under completion between this year and the next — in Doha, Qatar; Islamabad, Pakistan; Carrasco, Uruguay; Incheon, Korea; or Indianapolis, USA —are anything to go by, we are building glittering aerotropolises that are devised around strong, extremely modern architecture. Yet, there is no local context, so these airports can as easily be interchanged, or even replicated. To an extent this is also true of the recent airports in, say Hong Kong or angkok, where the architectural vocabulary is so completely international, in a sense the design fits into the geography without reference to history.

Given this background, it should hardly be surprising that the new terminal in the case of Indira Gandhi International Airport in Delhi should have become the handiwork of Mumbai-based architect Hafeez Contractor, a sort of test-case for the new integrated (domestic and international) terminal T3 being constructed to meet the deadline of the Commonwealth Games and which, when complete, will be one of the largest terminals in the world. At that point, the newly introduced and very swank looking Terminal 1D will be assigned as India’s first terminal for budget airlines.

Already, it is a pointer of things to come. Though it occupies a small footprint, in terms of area, for the function it serves today, the building is a nod to its neighbourhood, the extraordinary architecture of steel and glass of Gurgaon where, coincidentally, Contractor has several projects to his credit. A curved roof with a visible skeleton and the expanse of glass are softened somewhat by the use of cherry red plastic for some interior fixtures. Access and exits from the building are efficient, with a range of technology being provided for the first time in India to smoothen operations.

But temporary or not, the confined space means the retail presence is overt rather than subtle. On the airside, the large glass façade provides an amazing view of airside operations, while the waiting area that serves as the arrivals lounge is gargantuan, with enough seating bays, numbered concourses for taxis, functional signages, and enough slickness to make the passenger or visitor experience pleasant. Hopefully thingswill only get better with the integrated launch of T3.

Maybe because it is still to be completed, the meagre nod to greenery both within and outside the airport, and the absence of art, is noticeable. But then that’s the case with both Bangalore and Hyderabad as well, where there has been enough time for such inclusions. At Singapore airport, one is greeted with masses of orchids and rare flowers. Thailand and airports around the world showcase the best contemporary art. Even the old airports in Delhi and Bombay managed murals and canvases, so the absence in the new airports is the more obvious.

The designers of Hyderabad’s Shamshadabad International Airport —the design consortium consisted of COWI of Denmark, Aviaplan of Norway and STUP Consultants from India — say they had a simple seven-step formula that guided their design philosophy: “Make it simple; make it flexible; make it loose fit; make it convenient, comfortable, attractive; maximise revenue generating areas; be generous with floor area; and be mean with mechanical installations.”

The Norwegian Gudmund Stokke, whose design for Muscat’s Seeb International Airport has won acclaim, was the chief designer, architect and planner, joined by architect Winston Teng Shu. Their brief was to project Hyderabad’s image as a destination for high technology business. Does the building serve that function? The curved roof at least undoes the rigid geometry of the structure, which is otherwise unremarkable, and a landscaped garden at the entrance lends it an earthy feel. The interiors are certainly capacious, but there’s nothing on which the eye might rest — some distractions from its linear, efficient design might have come as a relief.

A similar spartaness characterises Bangalore International Airport’s design philosophy, but that is hardly surprising given that the operators of Zurich airport, who won the competition to be part of the building and operating it, are known for their functional design. The design consultants, Kaufmann Van Der Meer + Partner of Zurich, must have had their task cut out for them, to reflect a city synonymous with India’s economic growth over the last decade. The brief for the architects was simple to the point of eliminating all but the functional: it had to be “passenger-friendly, well-operated and financially sound”.

The result is infrastructure that looks as if it has been assembled with giant Lego bricks. The design of Bangalore’s airport is modular so when it expands, the new constructions will mirror the existing ones. A good deal of land at the site has been reserved to develop an aerotropolis — a city in which the layout, infrastructure and economy are centred around a major airport.

If the passenger terminal appears bare, it is as a result of a conscious decision to place “emphasis on neutral colours — silver, black and green” — and to “keep focus on passengers as they reflect the vibrancy of the airport”. Breaking the monotony somewhat are the retail spaces that have been designed to resemble a flower with petals to make the point that Bangalore is the “garden city of India”. Its eco-friendly credentials include a thermally insulated building that minimises cooling loads, and a rainwater harvesting system. But the exterior of the terminal’s high roof is a nesting ground for hundreds of birds that gives the building an interesting feng-shui of birdsong. Perhaps one needs just to take more cues from nature to make design come alive.