Reconstructing from the Archives: Inter-University Centre for Astronomy and Astrophysics (IUCAA)

A meandering journey through the archives of one of Charles Correa’s most significant institutional projects.

One of the many courtyards that organize IUCAA’s masterplan. Photograph taken by Mahendra Sinh.

For a novice, at least in the complex fields of astronomy and astrophysics, the most gripping part of outer space is its scale — the sheer enormity, the vastness, the dizzyingly unfathomable extents of ‘nothingness’. Working with an archival masterplan of the Inter-University Center for Astronomy and Astrophysics, or IUCAA, gave me the same feeling of disorientation. Completed in the early 1990s, IUCAA was the second ‘Inter-University Center’ (IUC) — autonomous centers set up by the University Grants Commission designed to act as national coordinating bodies to create centralised facilities that could be shared by all universities. In July 1988, IUCAA was granted 8 hectares of land near Pune University, and Charles Correa was chosen to design the buildings.

Reading a plan for the first time is a bit like learning the rhythm of an unfamiliar song, and this one — especially at the masterplan scale — was particularly elusive. Correa himself1 describes the structure of the plan as more organic than a strict grid;

“an axis which is actually shifting, yet not breaking off at any point…”

The very apparent asymmetry that this generates is what makes the building contemporary. Compounding this was the sheer scale of the institute; in 1992, just 4 years after being granted a site, it stood as a mammoth 150,000 square foot campus.

The 3 sites of IUCAA, with the central institute, interspersed by campus roads. Archival drawing from the Charles Correa Archives.

When a project is studied as a process rather than an outcome, a retrospective curation becomes all the more complex. Every line I drafted was accompanied by a lingering angst – that I was not correctly capturing the original intention of the architect, that the wall itself was built differently than the drawing, that there was somehow more to these walls that I was blissfully unaware of. This was when I took a deep dive into ‘the IUCAA story’ – how it had been written about, spoken about, critiqued – essentially positioning it in its context. It was quite evident that collaboration must have been essential for a project of this scale to have been executed in such a short time. After realising that Correa accepted the project on the condition that the scientists worked with him to bring the imagery and concepts of astronomy into the builtform, I knew that these were the tenets of this institute, and what made it so unique.

But what does this abstraction – the ‘cosmos’, the mandala – mean for an architect? Correa’s translation of concepts into architectural gestures was not an act of force or imposition, but rather an acceptance of the land, the trees, and the terrain. While IUCAA is known for its imagery, such as the Foucault pendulum and its spiral staircase, there are much subtler nuances that catch one by surprise.

The sweeping lines’ of black stone, articulated as black walls. Archival sketch by Charles Correa, from the Charles Correa Archives.

The first gesture that I noticed in the plan was the sweeping lines – articulated as imposing black walls that are meant to draw a visitor in. Even a CAD drawing reflects the sure movement of the hand that sketched them. An elevation revealed the layers of the walls: local basalt at the base, followed by courses of a blacker kuddapah, and topped finally by glossy black granite, described by Correa2 as

“black on black on black – the infinity of outer space.”

Three layers of black stone allude to the increasing ‘blackness’ of outer space.
L: Archival drawing from the Charles Correa Archives | R: Photograph taken by Rahul Mehrotra.

As I worked my way through the rigour and complexity of the masterplan one block at a time, the organic nature of the grid, flowing and bending for light and openings, began revealing itself. A conscious effort was made to treat each block not as an isolated entity but a part of a system, understanding the whole as much more than the sum of its parts but also the part itself as a whole. The play of scale — unapologetically cosmic one minute and tenderly humane the next — beautifully parallels a layperson’s understanding and perception of the ‘cosmos’.

Slowly, the distinctly ‘Correan’ aspects of the project started to emerge. The interplay of volume and void, the articulation of spaces around courtyards: places in the sun and shade, so to speak. The variation in these open spaces is reminiscent of the hierarchy of courtyards in Belapur Housing, built in Navi Mumbai just a few years prior (the project was completed in 1986, two years before IUCAA began).

L: The play of scale is beautifully seen in the statues in the central courtyard. Photograph taken by Rahul Mehrotra.
R: The figure-ground plan depicts the interplay of volume and void. Archival drawing from the Charles Correa Archives.

The largest of these courtyards — the central square — takes the form of a ‘kund’, or well; another clear indicator of its architect. However, rather than being filled with water, the kund is bound by a delicate pattern of granite steps, with stones set into the grass along one diagonal, almost flying apart. On investigating this further, I saw the careful balance between the allusion to astral imagery and the grounding of an architectural gesture – in this case, directionality.

The stones that span the diagonal of the kund ‘fly apart’ with energy.
L: Archival drawing from the Charles Correa Archives | R: Photograph taken by Mahendra Sinh.

This kund was intended as a metaphor for the expanding universe: the stones are ‘bursting’ with centrifugal energy but also set a directional axis that leads to other facilities in the centre of campus.

The two ‘Pillars of Charles’3 which flank the narrow path at the entrance – columns of exposed concrete melting into the powder blue of the sky – hold the anecdotal memory of one of the young architects in Correa’s office who had climbed the column and poured blue paint on it. These pillars reappear almost 30 years later in an institution halfway across the world; the Champalimaud Centre in Lisbon.

The ‘Pillars of Charles’ at IUCAA in Pune (left) and at the Champalimaud Centre in Lisbon.
L: Photograph taken by Rahul Mehrotra | R: Photograph taken by Colin Mosher.

When I studied the dome that lies to the west of the kund, I saw that it was quite literally a reflection of the heavens. The scientists at IUCAA had calculated, through complex mathematics, the exact distribution of stars as they existed in the sky the day IUCAA’s foundation stone was laid — 8.30 pm on December 29 1988. This ‘star pattern’ was then mapped onto the dome, where small pieces of glass were placed before it was cast. The finished dome was painted black on the inside, creating the effect of standing in bright daylight under a bedazzled, ‘starry’ sky. Far from being alien and unknown, IUCAA now felt so familiar; I could see how astronomers sometimes referred to faraway stars as their friends.

The bedazzled dome with glass-puncture stars of sunlight. Photograph taken by Mahendra Sinh.

If, as Correa describes4, “the entire building is like a painting”, then its archival study has been more like a dance. My perception of scale transformed from the disorientation of reading the masterplan to the intimate familiarity I had with each block and its unique gestures. In reconstructing from the Archives, engaging with the project clarified my responsibility: not to recreate the most correct drawing or convey the most accurate version of events, but rather to tell a story — to someone who may not speak the language of space, architectural or scientific. One where the collaborative nature of the program was first reflected in its design and construction, where symbology, science, and structure found a common home.

The story of IUCAA.

– Written by Amrita Goyal, Research Fellow

IUCAA is one of close to 200 projects that the CCF team has been curating for the upcoming monograph on Charles Correa, scheduled for release later this year. If you have any information or drawings related to any of Charles Correa’s works, please reach out to us at connect@charlescorreafoundation.org.

Footnotes:

1, 4 ‘Charles Correa – Traditional Concepts, Astral Effects’, and ‘Profile – Charles Correa’, cover story by Chintamani Bhagat, Indian Architect & Builder, Bombay – August 1991, pg. 31-32.
2 ‘Pradakshina: The Works of Charles Correa’, by Charles Correa (Special Report), Approach, Tokyo – Summer 1994, pg. 5.
3 ‘Architecture, Astronomy and the Cosmos: From Conversations to a Masterpiece’ by Ajit Kembhavi, presented at the Z-Axis Conference 2024, Mumbai — October 13, 2024. Kembhavi’s talk was instrumental in gathering anecdotal evidence of the project.

Cities & Ideologies: How Political Ideologies Shape The Public Spaces Of Indian Cities

“The city is a product of a state of war between political and economic forces that shape and re-shape the urban landscape.” – Mike Davis 1

Cities are often perceived as consequences of planning, geography and economy. We perpetually criticise our cities, in search of more inclusive spaces, but rarely do we acknowledge the powerful role of ‘political ideologies’ in shaping them. To substantiate this statement, we will take two contrasting cities – Kolkata (an old metropolis politically rooted in communist values) and Bengaluru (an emerging metropolis driven by neo-liberal growth), to depict how political worldviews manifest in the urban fabric.

The CPI(M)’s (Communist Party of India-Marxism-Leninism) thirty-two-year rule in Bengal created lasting impacts on the city’s core ideologies. A few of the positive core beliefs which people of Kolkata grew into were ‘sensitivity towards class issues’, ‘preaching for equality’, and ‘active civic participation’. On the other hand, Bengaluru’s neo-liberal transformation started with Sir M. Visvesvaraya’s address to the Bangalore Literary Union in 1953, where he said:

“What makes Americans long-lived, progressive and prosperous”, he continued, “is the planned, disciplined lives they lead. Our activities on the other hand are unplanned, and our behaviour unplanned and inactive.” 2

This comparative statement, along with his appeal to the citizens to see themselves as ‘stockholders of the city corporation’ 3 in every municipal engagement, sowed the seeds of the present neo-liberal growth of Bengaluru, inspired by the West.

The Left Front in Kolkata actively resisted the privatisation of urban land, enabling the survival of expansive green spaces like the Maidan, accessible at all times. Its porous edges were a result of ‘proletarian power’, dismantling boundaries and ensuring equal spaces for all. 

In contrast, Bengaluru experienced a surge of rapid, unregulated urbanisation, unlike Kolkata’s slow-paced growth. To manage this, the city adopted quick fixes which included – gated parks, walled/fenced green spaces and controlled access points with regulated timings and activities.

Left Photo Credit: S. K. Dinesh Lalbagh’s Boundary Wall- Non-porous and greenery unseen to the public

Right Photo Credit: Google Earth

Urbanisation brings unique challenges for the city’s residents. In response, residents engage, express, and reclaim space to shape and survive the city. Thus, protest becomes a huge outlet for people in voicing and asserting their rights. Protest needs to be witnessed so that every citizen can comprehend and hold hands in the process of justice. 

The strong Marxist-Leninist influence is the sole reason why protest is inscribed into Kolkata’s urban fabric. Protest and dissent is viewed as a ‘civic responsibility’.The R.G Kar Protest stands as a testament to this city-wide procession for women’s rights, driven not by propaganda but by a shared sense of justice.

On the other hand, Bengaluru’s Town Hall, once home to powerful public gatherings echoing with resistance songs, has moved towards restraining dissent. After the city-wide protest of Anganwadi Workers and Devanhalli Farmers 4, the Bengaluru Police Commissioner issued an order strictly containing all protests at Freedom Park, in a designated parking lot far from the public sight. Outside this zone, protest is classified as ‘civil disobedience’, drawing swift police response. Shaped by the priorities of neo-liberal governance, a city once with a vibrant political voice now struggles with a silenced public sphere.

Left Photo Credit: Bhanu S Citizens of Bengaluru protesting against confining protests to Freedom Park

Right Photo Credit: The Hindu R.G Kar ‘Reclaim the Night’ city-wide protests for women’s safety and rights

Though a riverine city, Kolkata never initially prioritised greenery due to its early urbanisation. Instead, its communist egalitarianism helped make the old streets the citizens’ ‘third space’ 5. Every space available in the exterior capable of holding people (footpath, steps of an old house, underneath a flyover, etc) becomes a place of social exchange. In Correa’s words:

“They have raised disintegration to the level of high art.” 6

The larger question which currently arises is: To what extent can you romanticise the past? This is the dilemma Kolkata is facing in shaping its public spaces for future generations. Spaces once celebrated require thoughtful revival.

In contrast, Bengaluru has been the ‘City of Lakes’ adorned with greenery, formed by encompassing two hundred villages, whose reminiscence is still present in its place names ending with ‘halli’ (village in Kannada, eg., Marathahalli, Baiyyapanahalli, etc). The rapid shift from a low-rise settlement to a high-density urban sprawl, along with the diminishing greens and lakes, makes the future of free public spaces extremely uncertain.

Left Photo Credit: X/@sahana_srik Bizarre restrictions in Public Parks of Bengaluru

Right Photo Credit: Sanat Kr Sinha Hawkers occupy the entire stretch of the footpath – no pedestrian pathways in College Street, Kolkata

A shift in political ideology exposes huge vulnerabilities in its civic spaces. The ongoing tension of the Left versus Right creates a state of duality with disjointed experiences in the city of Kolkata. Whereas, unchecked rapid neo-liberal expansion is eroding equity in Bengaluru’s public spaces.

Thus, the design of our cities cannot remain apolitical. Political indulgences are necessary to create rooted spaces which are inclusive, honouring the past, responding to the present, and accommodating the future of our cities.

– Written by Anwesha Saha, Research Fellow

Footnotes:

  1. Davis, Mike. City of Quartz. 1990. ↩︎
  2. Nair, Janaki. The Promise of the Metropolis. 2005. Pg-14 ↩︎
  3. Nair, Janaki. The Promise of the Metropolis. 2005. Pg-14 ↩︎
  4. Bangalore Mirror:
    https://bangaloremirror.indiatimes.com/bangalore/others/karnataka-anganwadi-workers-demand-wage-hike-and-job-recognition-amid-protests/articleshow/118227037.cms

    The Hindu:
    https://www.thehindu.com/news/national/karnataka/leave-us-and-our-land-alone-why-devanahalli-farmers-have-been-protesting-for-over-1180-days-against-karnataka-government/article69743773.ece ↩︎
  5. Homi K. Bhaba ↩︎
  6. Correa, Charles. The Times of India. Oh Calcutta. Bombay, 1975. ↩︎

City on the Water – Density, Growth and Development

“Half a million people arriving every morning … nobody leaving” 

With this line, Charles Correa’s film, ‘City on the Water’1, sets the stage for a city that is reaching its limits and builds a case for its solution. Correa made this film exactly 50 years ago, in 1975, as part of a larger effort to bring out the urgent need for expansion to the city’s authorities. The proposal was for a new city across the harbour, designed to relieve the intense pressure on Mumbai, to be called Navi Mumbai. But the questions the film highlights go far beyond the proposal. How long can a city keep absorbing people without confronting who has the right to the land resource and dignity? 

The aerial shots present throughout the films show a city squeezed between water and demand. Correa points out that the real edges of the city are not drawn by nature, they are drawn by policy, power and money. Mumbai or Bombay in the 60s, was the ‘nerve centre of the Indian economy’, an attraction point for new technology for India, generating nearly half of the entire revenue of the government of India.

A city born out of migration, Bombay’s growth showed no signs of slowing down. As a city, Bombay was a place where, every day, tens of thousands arrived with hopes in their pockets, only to find that the city was both generous and cruel, a contrast that is represented through the film. This brings forth important questions: Are our cities physically capable of absorbing endless demand? Or are we merely redistributing scarcity by squeezing more people into less space, eroding both the environment and the quality of life? A recurring image in the film shows trains spilling out waves of people into the city. These are not just commuters; many are migrants searching for work, shelter and survival. Where does this endless tide of people live?

Result of an overcrowded city with people occupying the streets and pavements.

The camera moves towards the overcrowded pavements, congested chawls, and temporary shelters folded into the city’s cracks and margins. Through this, Correa questions “what is worse, the temporary slums or the permanent ones?” This wasn’t just about Bombay. This is yet the defining crisis of every rapidly urbanising city today. 

Long after Navi Mumbai has been built, the core tensions that he outlines – between migration and exclusion, between geography and inequality – still remain unresolved. One of the film’s sharpest insights is how building heights are directly linked to land prices. As land gets scarcer, buildings grow taller, and rather than solving the problem, this ends up raising the price of the land. To address this, he proposed to add more land to the residential pool by decentralising Bombay and expanding to New Bombay.

Graphical representation for the expansion of residential areas by showing two cases: increasing building height vs increasing land area.

Land in the city is not neutral. It is hoarded, speculated on and made into a commodity. It makes it less about living on it and more about trading, leverage and wealth expansion. The URDPFI (Urban and Regional Development Plans Formulation and Implementation) has set a target of 10 to 12 sqm of open space per person in India. However, according to the survey conducted by Project Mumbai in 2021, Mumbai currently has 1 sqm of open space per person2 3. Planning decisions about zoning, density and infrastructure are not just technical; they are deeply political acts that determine who gets to belong and who gets pushed to the edge. Are we building cities for people, or as a commodity? In his book, “The New Landscape”, Correa argues that failure is not technical; it is political4. When more than half of the city’s population lives without formal access to land, basic services, or security, can we still call it a “good” city? 

Behind the words “density,” “growth,” and “development” are real and lived experiences of the people. When a city can not offer any more shelter, it does not stop people from migrating to the city; it redistributes them into scarcity. A child growing up on the pavement, a family living in a one-room rental without water or light, and workers commuting 3 hours each way just because the city does not have space to accommodate people near their workspaces. These are not normal circumstances, even if we have learned to cope with them. It is just part of a system that accepts exclusion as a byproduct of urban success. If survival itself becomes the primary occupation of so many, what does it even mean for a city to be “functional”?

Rough proposal plan for New Bombay.

City on the Water leaves us with the thought that cities will continue to grow. But the growth itself is not the crisis. The crisis lies in whether that growth is inclusive or whether it survives by pushing more people into the margins. When a city floats between hope and neglect, whose responsibility is it to keep it from drowning?

To watch the film, click here.

– Written by Dainty Doe Justin, Fellow

Footnotes:

  1. Correa, C. M. (Director). (1975). A City on the Water [Film]. Film Division. ↩︎
  2. Virani, S. (2021, November 17). Mumbai has less green than what masterplan shows: just 1 sq m per person. Citizen Matters. ↩︎
  3. Gokarn, S. (2024, May 31). Pockets of greenery and recreation: How Mumbai is claiming its open spaces. Citizen Matters. ↩︎
  4.  Correa, Great City … Terrible Place from The New Landscape, pg 86 ↩︎