Office transparency

Every time the use of glass in architectural design comes up for discussion, it boils down to the peddling of the same myths "" that glass is fragile; that it is energy inefficient; and that it is too industrial.

And, if in spite of it, designers are able to make inroads with the use of glass, it is on account of their persistence or, as in the case of an office I had occasion to visit in riot-hit Gurgaon recently, perhaps by accident.

The Satya Paul head office on NH 8 is barely a couple of months old and was originally intended as a car showroom. As a result, both the building facade and the main shopfloor section used a lot of glass.

When Satya Paul's partners took over the space for their office, they didn't tinker much with the original format, content with creating working bays and niches for works of art to be displayed (both coloured glass and canvas).

Here's the advantage: the near-transparency offers just enough privacy that's non-intrusive, but enough to show you aren't slacking off. And since this applies to department heads as well as the hoi-polloi, it's bound to lead to increasing efficiencies (while eliminating the occasional snooze).

But more than personnel efficiency, it brings to my mind increasing technical efficiencies. Artifical lights change colours (which is why auntiejis who haunt showrooms are often seen dragging fabrics out into natural light to see what they really are like); here, the readily available natural light creates "real colour" situations, and limits the usability of artificial light "" any increase, therefore, in airconditioning requirements on account of glass walls should be offset by the decreased lighting bills.

The fragility (as well as the insulation, these days) of glass is, of course, hardly pertinent considering that it is the beams and pillars that are supposed to bear the load of a building. In such case, whether the facade or dividing walls between spaces are made of concrete or glass or, indeed, industrial board, is of no relevance except to the longevity of the structure.

Concrete walls have a long life, true, but the surface requires frequent attention, making it expensive to maintain. This is particularly true of board which cannot be used on the outside, and has a poor life even on the inside as a separating material.

Glass is easy on maintenance and has at least as long a shelf life as a brick wall. It's somewhat more prone to damage in the event of a natural disaster, but in the case of an earthquake (or a tsunmai, or even flooding, where relevant) it all boils down to a question of degrees.

At the Satya Paul office, where glass creates a minimalistic (therefore stark) look, it's softened by the sudden splashes of colour "" swatches, samples, computer screens; even the clothes employees wear. The heightened experience of colour is, therefore, maximised.

But the joy of using toughened, scratch-proof, gently tinted glass lies ultimately in the way it knits in the outdoors into the indoors. With the sun beating down in summer, and hot winds blowing outside, the cool inside makes looking out a pleasure.

The rain falling overhead, or on the walls, makes you part of the external environment. The crisp winter sun, the curling mists, the dark, threatening clouds of a storm "" you are at least cognizant of the changing magic of the weather outside without being exposed to its miseries.

In my office room without a window to the outside, without knowing, in fact, whether its sunny outside, or raining, without knowing even whether it's day or night, I can only envy such glazed offices.