The buzzword in school architecture these days is interactive spaces. Over the last decade, school design has undergone a sea change from the rectangular blocks flanked by corridors that marked the `architecture' in most schools designed in the 80s and earlier. However, since emerging trends in school architecture are still being explored, there are design flaws that become evident only to the students over a period of time. The hexagonal classrooms of the Apeejay School, Noida, for example, were found to let in too much light through the glazed walls/windows, heated up the interiors in summer, and were freezing cold in winter. No wonder, the summer vacations in 1999 were put to good use: the windows were replaced by walls, allowing space only for smaller windows for light and ventilation.
One wonders how many of these practical considerations were kept in view by the four-member jury that sat on the Inside Outside Designer of the Year award for 1998, given for school architecture. Lifted by Christopher Benninger, the design was selected from a final list of 16 entries for its strong expression of architecture.
The award came Pune-based Benninger's way for the Mahindra United World College of India, Pune. Several elements seem to have worked in the favour of the project: there was the natural terrain to begin with, part of the hilly region from which it borrowed its vocabulary, and a foundation willing to accept a bold architectural vocabulary as part of the new language of international academics.
While the exploration of the spaces is imaginative, the structural harmony relies on traditional precepts so that the residential cottages are set into conclaves based on the local wadis. Each cottage in these community spaces is maintained by eight students whose private spaces consist of an entrance, verandah, courtyard, box room, and two rooms. Within each room, four students have clearly demarcated sleep/ study areas.
As for the formal buildings of the school, there are walkways within, so essential to academic life, acting as bridges between different disciplines, and allowing students to readjust and refocus as they walk between classrooms.
The easy informality of amphitheatres, ramps, seating cubes, and garden courts attached to each classroom, act as nesting areas for students, encouraging debate and exchange without the formality that these disciplines otherwise suggest.
The heirarchy of internal and external features is not strictly maintained allowing nature to penetrate the built form. The informality of the spaces has been designed to keep a dynamic tension running, with columns providing a dimension within the stone-clad vistas of the school buildings. Cast murals, glass walls, and a playful whimsy when it comes to spouts, ponds and lintels, softens the mass of the building that, with its low elevation and flexible alignment, seems to merge into the hills.
While the jury applauded the quality of light used as a ploy throughout the campus, and architect Kamal Malik even lauded the `ability of the design to look inwards', Shimul Javeri Kadri cautions against too much enthusiasm over the project: "Each building looked inwards, making the design very introverted... Looking at the plans I expected the buildings to be marvellous, but they were not so." Proving, once again, that great looking architecture is not always the most practical. r hotel owner had warned us as we set off. We scoffed at the man's exaggeration but Builth Wells proved him, if anything else, to be a master of understatement, so sweeping was the show's ambit. Anything and everything related to agriculture was on display _ the latest breeding techniques, machinery, dairy products. Vast acres of land were taken over by pigs, cattle, sheep, poultry, with over 7,000 livestock entries.
One section of the grounds was devoted to the most well-behaved canines I've seen, ranging from collies to exotic chow-chows. Foodies could choose from farm produce intended as much for the stomach as the soul, ranging from chicken to cheese to chocolates.
The fair, established in 1904, and organised by the Royal Welsh Agricultural Society, is among the most prestigious events in Britain's calendar, finding a place even in royal diaries. No less than the Prince of Wales either opens or closes the event. This year, he was due at its finale. The importance an agricultural event gets in Britain was highlighted when the media converged in full strength to cover the fair. The BBC ran daily reports on the four-day event, as did other channels.
Perhaps recognising its importance, the weather god smiled down upon Builth Wells. The rains of the previous days were forgotten as the sun shone brightly. Thrilled at the sunshine, kids licking giant-sized candyfloss ran gleefully across the grounds to the amusement park, queueing up for their turn on the giant slides and trampolines. Others could be seen thronging the toy stalls with their stuffed teddies, colourful jigsaws, and arrays of clothes.
My own interest was riveted to the dog show where rows of trained poodles, chow-chows, German shepherds, rotweilers, collies and sheep dogs trotted obediently up to the judges, vying for top honours. The judge _ an efficient, blue-coated lady _ had barely 30 seconds to inspect each specimen as she waded through the humungous entries.
In the next enclosure, a goat show was on. And there seemed to be at least as many varieties of these nimble footed creatures as the dogs. Shaggy-haired pure whites, large blacks _ and so obedient, they could teach the dogs a lesson or two in good behaviour.
Nearby, an owl perched on a stake, watched the proceedings placidly. Only when it blinked did we realise that it was not a stuffed creature. There was no mistaking the falcon, however, for even though it was tied, it was no less majestic for it. In fact, the falcon turned out to be quite a poser, preening before the camera. There were other exotic feathered creatures on sale, but most visitors drifted away on hearing the prices.
The noisiest enclosure at the fair was probably the one where the sheep were penned. Attracted by the sounds, hundreds of people thronged the giant stage where, spurred by the encouraging shouts of their fans, English farmers were exhibiting their sheep-shearing skills. In a superfast operation, sheep would arrive on the stage, to be sheared in a matter of seconds, before being sent bleating down a chute. The fastest to draw wool would emerge the winner. For the 500-odd people watching the proceedings, the commentator kept a count of individual scores. "The Aussies ar
