Extension to Jaipur House, The National Gallery of Modern Art

Badrinarayanan
12 August 2008

As one drives down Zakir Hussain Marg towards the C hexagon, just before reaching the giant round-about, one notices some new buildings in red and buff sandstone on the right, hitherto hidden behind construction barricades—or were they always there? At first glance, these new NGMA extension buildings seem to naturally ‘belong’ there, as though they are what one might expect to find in that location. They respect the alignment of the road, sitting parallely to the direction of movement, and have a quiet dignity about them unlike the preceding building on the same road. The facades of the new NGMA are impeccably proportioned, with red and buff stone surfaces that are relieved by rhythmic columns which form deep vertical recesses. They remind one of the deep verandahs of the many colonial buildings one comes across in and around India Gate. The only hint that they are designed and built in the twenty first century are the thin vertical metallic strips that glint at regular intervals all the way down between vertical panels of stone.

Just before turning into the roundabout, on the right, one catches a glimpse of the old NGMA building (Jaipur House) of which one had just seen the new extension blocks. As one does almost a complete clockwise circumambulation of the hexagon, just beyond the National Stadium, the dome of Jaipur House becomes visible. In order to understand and appreciate the design of the new extension, a brief description of the old NGMA and its site context is necessary. Firstly, it is important to understand that the old NGMA was neither designed as a museum nor as a gallery. Lutyens had earmarked, as part of the master plan of the central vista, a ring of smaller palace buildings surrounding the Chhatri hexagon, each representing an Indian princely state under the imperial British rule, symbolically saluting the statue of King George the V under the Chhatri. Edwin Lutyens’s concept was to put the ruler in the Viceroy house on Raisina Hill and gather the princes at the foot—as subjects in a durbar.

Amongst the various palaces grouped around the India Gate Hexagon, Lutyens had personally designed the Hyderabad house, located diametrically opposite the Jaipur House. After independence, and the subsequent amalgamation of the many feudal states into the new republic, these ‘state palaces’ were retrofitted to accommodate various government institutions. Jaipur House was converted in to the National Gallery of Modern Art in the1960’s. Designed by Charles and Francis Blomfield, and built in 1938 for Maharaja Mansingh II, Jaipur House is rather austere, with an imposing central wing topped by a dome. It uses the architectural language of imperial Delhi—predominantly European neo-classical fused with a few Art-Deco and ‘Indian’ elements.

Owing to the peculiar wedge-shape of plots around the India Gate Hexagon, the Jaipur House along with a number of other state palaces is butterfly shaped in plan. Two symmetrical ‘wings’ radiate outwards and forwards from the central body, enclosing a forecourt, like two arms reaching out to welcome visitors. Two similar wings radiate towards the rear, facing the landscaped grounds. The façade has two levels of small, vertical, slit-like windows spaced few and far apart on plain featureless walls, revealing that the inside volume consists of two floors. Following the classical idiom, the ground floor is expressed visually as a ‘heavy’ base, built with alternating horizontal layers of red and buff stone blocks, while the upper floor is visually lighter using only buff stone. A continuous sun-shade or ‘chajja’ in red stone casts a deep shadow and caps the whole façade. The overall impression is of solid mass, grand horizontal sweeps, and of monumentality. Ornamentation is used sparingly-- some carved ornamental ‘Rajput’ columns that frame a few arched openings, a horizontal band of interlocking pattern in red and buff stone reminiscent of Mughal monuments.

The central entrance steps lead one through a lobby, into the main volume under the dome. Two symmetrical, grand, curved stairs wrap around this space and lead up to the first floor. This triple height space is the central orienting device that leads to various corridors that have rooms on either side which house the galleries. Inside, a confusing maze of corridors and rooms leaves one disoriented. This is further compounded by the complex geometry of the building, as the main corridors are not at right angles, but join at obtuse angles. Because of the few external windows, the lighting is entirely artificial and as one moves through the galleries, there are few views offered of the lovely landscaped gardens outside. The building draws very firm and strict boundaries between the ‘inside’ and the ‘outside’; almost like a fortress. However, the monumental mass of the edifice is broken down to a more friendly, human scale by the use of low screen walls of stone—a device that gradually ‘steps down’ the imposing building and connects it to the landscape as it were. These screen walls also helped to enclose landscaped gardens in the rear.

An architectural competition for the extension to NGMA was announced in 1984 and culminated in 1985. The winning entry was selected by the jury as much for its pragmatic simplicity as for its sensitive response to the existing building and its historic setting. The design proposal arranges the extension in three large cuboid blocks in the rear, while preserving many fully grown existing trees. These three blocks are set parallel to the rear outer boundary of the plot, leaving the minimum setbacks from the peripheral internal roads, thus maximizing the garden space between the old and the new blocks. This garden with its many shady trees is developed as a pedestrian-friendly recreation- cum- outdoor display space.

The new blocks are kept visually separated from each other to reduce their overall mass, but are interconnected completely at basement level and at upper levels through thin ‘bridges’. The linear courts between the blocks are designed as lively public streets, with cafe spill-outs, and for outdoor exhibitions and performances.

However, the real strength of the design is how it negotiates and resolves the difference in alignments between the old and the new blocks, and the awkward geometry of the intervening open space between them. In order to do this, the design takes its cue from an existing architectural device from the old building—the screen wall.

While the three new cuboid blocks sit parallel to the rear roads and at right angles to each other, an angular screen wall of double storied columns detaches itself from the central block and faces the rear of the existing building. This deft design move achieves three objectives in one shot.
In the first place the freestanding façade squarely faces the symmetrical rear of the old building--like holding up a mirror to it. Secondly it creates a perfectly intelligible, square shaped open space between the old and the new building. In the process, the space between the screen wall and the central block forms a dramatic, triangular, open-to-sky sculpture forecourt to the new extension block and announces its main entrance. The third side of this dynamic triangular enclosure is formed by a large existing Ficus tree. The screen wall is thus the first greeting in the complex dialogue set up between the old and the new buildings; between building and landscape, between building and art.

The entrance triangle leads up to an inviting foyer visible through transparent glass walls that draw one in. To the left is a completely glassed-in museum souvenir shop reflected in a shallow pool. The first impression of the interior is one of surprising lightness and transparency, as the eye can sweep across a vast volume of a sky-lit atrium, right up to the opposite wall. The corner of the entrance lobby extends into the atrium, like a giant prow of a ship, inviting one to come to the edge and look up and down the central void.

Series of carefully oriented skylights on the high ceiling scoop diffused light into the interior. These skylights and the deeply recessed vertical strip windows on the façade ensure that there is enough natural light inside the galleries even on the cloudiest of days while cutting out direct sunlight in the display area which may be harmful to delicate works of art. The artificial lights hung from ceilings provide controlled lighting on art-works and are programmed to dim or brighten automatically depending on light conditions outside, saving precious energy.

The four storey space is designed for universal access and has lifts and ramps connecting all the levels. The location of the ramp is most unusual as it wraps around the two external sides of the square block. As one walks up, one can see the outside landscape through the windows, as well as enjoy the changing perspectives of the interior space through the glass railings.

The galleries are not designed as ‘rooms’, but as free floors which could be sub-divided with free-standing, movable display panels. The sweeping internal floor slabs are supported on columns, but not all floor planes meet the walls. Large segments stop short of the walls and seem to float effortlessly-- cantilevered off internal columns, thus forming interesting double and sometimes triple-height spaces along the periphery. It is this complex interplay of internal volumes that brings variety, serendipity, transparency and lightness to the interior, quite in contrast to the monumental looking exterior.

Although all three blocks are cuboid, it is interesting to see how the same external form adapts itself to the demands of diverse internal shapes and uses within it. However, there are unexpected angular projections and recesses from the cuboids which intrigue and surprise. These occasional departures from the square might seem arbitrary, but are based on very precise manipulations of geometry that are derived and extended from the existing building.

It is as though invisible lines of force extended outwards from the old building and have carved laser-like the new blocks; adding here, subtracting there. The massive basement that interconnects all three blocks, and the discreet freight lifts ensure the smooth and secure movement of artworks and equipment from any corner to any other corner of the complex without disturbing the public.

As one comes out into the open spaces that separate the blocks, one is struck by the intricate detailing of the external façade when viewed close up. The external mass is broken down into a series of receding planes of stone and aggregate plaster. At places the stone is carefully ‘peeled back’ to reveal grooves which are clad in aluminum. These metallic strips also reveal that the building is not made of solid stone blocks (as they were in the last century), and that the stone is only a thin layer of cladding—a veneer, that is independent of the structure.

There is some poetry in the way the different stones are clad, the way various materials come together at the corners; often to the point of fussiness. Unlike in classical buildings, it is these small, meticulous construction details that add richness to the new NGMA rather than applied ornamentation. The attention to detail extends to the design of the outdoor spaces, paving, soft landscape, out-door lighting and the location and design of the services like electrical, air conditioning, firefighting, etc.

Most services have been hidden from view, but are easily accessible for maintenance and repairs. The cooling towers however are visible from the Zakir Hussain Marg, though they were originally planned away from prominent public spaces, engineering decisions taken by the executing agency have brought them to the forefront. It must be frustrating indeed for the architects to not only see all their design effort taking 24 years to fruition (longer than it took to build the Taj!) and then being marred by less than perfect execution.


Of the two other blocks on either side, one houses more galleries, and the other has public oriented functions such as a 200 seater auditorium, cafeteria, library etc. These functions are located invitingly close to the roundabout to draw in the public, thus making the museum a part and parcel of the recreational urban experience around India Gate. The design attempts to transform the public image of the museum from that of an exclusive, hermetically sealed tomb, to that of an inclusive, vibrant, cultural hub of the city. Unfortunately, this intention is partially diluted by the boundary wall fencing - a necessary evil that tends to isolate public buildings from the public.

How does one finally sum up the architecture of the new NGMA? The architecture is nuanced and can be appreciated at three distinct levels. First of all it adopts a sensible, practical, common sense approach to design. The three new blocks are like giant ‘warehouses’ where art can be stored, preserved, restored, moved, displayed, and above all viewed with efficiency, comfort, and ease. Although the overall large interior spaces are pre-determined, they lend themselves to a great variety and flexibility of usage in terms of customized arrangements for different exhibitions. However the ‘warehouses’ are anything but nondescript either from the outside or from the inside.

Secondly, the architecture is an experience to delight in. The experiential variety of spaces, the meticulous sense of proportions right from the whole to the part, the thoughtfully expressed construction details, the integration of the indoors with the outdoors-- all ensure that while the architecture could be dwelt on and savoured for itself, it recedes to the background and does not dominate or overwhelm what is on display.

The third layer of design is the most subtle of the three. It has to do with the very identity of the buildings. The architecture manages to carve a very distinct contemporary identity for itself, while graciously taking cues from the existing building and engaging in a creative dialogue with it. Although it is meant to house modern art of India, it ambitiously goes beyond its immediate function of shelter, and provokes questions on what is ‘Indian’, what is ‘Modernity’, and what a ‘Museum’ is today—questions which it then answers with some imagination and conviction.

The architects prove that it is no longer necessary to copy classical decoration when building within the context of what was once Imperial Delhi, nor is it essential to resort to mindless glass facades to proclaim one’s modernity. In fact, upon careful scrutiny, the architecture of the New Wing NGMA does not seem to draw its inspiration from any stylistic ‘isms’. Instead the New Wing seems to be closer to the design principles manifest in the finely crafted buildings located alongside Lodi Gardens, a stone’s throw away from Jaipur House. This group of buildings designed by Joseph Allen Stein, blend delightfully and harmoniously with their immediate surroundings. They have all stood the test of time, have aged gracefully, and represent a timeless humane modernity.