REBUILDING FROM THE RUBBLE
- IPSHITA KARMAKAR
Very often, in the case of South Asian countries like India and Nepal, religious structures are the epicentres around which community life revolves. There is a sense of collective ownership for these structures, and they become icons of community pride, heritage and identity. But what happens when such an icon is destroyed, and how do communities rally behind the rebuilding of such structures?
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Kasthamandap
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Kasthamandap, translating literally to ‘wooden pavilion’ is considered to be the oldest structure in Kathmandu from where the city derived its name. The post-earthquake archaeological research revealed evidence of the structure dating back to the 7th century. For the indigenous Newar community in Kathmandu, the Kasthamandap symbolised more than a historic structure, rather a manifestation of their cultural identity. The Kasthamandap originally designed as a ‘sattal’ (Rest house) for travellers, has changed its function over the centuries (Weise, 2006). It was also used as the assembly hall by the royal court and later with the establishment of the Gorakhnath statue, the Nath cult community stated living there, during which time several modifications to the structure were made (Risal, 2015). In the 70s, it became a haven for the global hippie movement. Despite the changing nature of this structure, various religious rituals that were performed on its premises every year have continued.
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On the afternoon of 25th April 2015, an earthquake of magnitude 7.8 on the Richter scale struck the valley of Kathmandu, flattening the valley and leading to collapse of several heritage buildings. Among them was the Kasthamandap; the entire superstructure collapsed leaving only the plinth of the historic monument. The foundations were severely damaged in the rescue operations, and for at least 3 years, Kasthamandap ruins remained under lock and key.
Rebuilding Kasthamandap
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Throughout the process of rebuilding, a delicate balance had to be struck between the voices of all stakeholders; the structural engineers, historians, conservation architects, masons, artisans and community elders. On one hand, structural engineers conducted load calculations for a primarily load bearing, brick and mud mortar structure, and on the other hand historians pored over the mandala design of the structure, and its alignment with the tenets of Buddhism and Hinduism. Kasthamandap was a living heritage site, and every modification to its structure had to be socially acceptable. The construction site was open, and every step of the onsite work was preceded by a Pooja and a feast. In Feburary 2019, the almost 7 meter tall central columns of Kasthamandap were hoisted with the help of volunteers of the Newar community, who refused the use of cranes to do the task. They saw it as an example of community building exercise, and a contribution of each individual to the task of rebuilding their national pride.
Reconstruction process
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The process of rebuilding meant conducting experiments with traditional construction materials, for their structural properties as well as their availability in modern times. Sample cubes made of varying proportions of clay and mud mortar and brick were subjected to a shake table test, to tabulate the structural properties of traditional materials with regards to seismic safety. Though Kasthamandap was said to be carved from a single tree, it became difficult to comply with the mythology and a compromise was made to reconstruct it with multiple sal trees. Though the building was built keeping in mind traditional practices, it was at most times aided with technology and structural logistics, balancing both myth perpetuation and the science of building.
In the process of this reconstruction, Newar artisans with years of experience working with timber and on heritage structures, hand carved hundreds of exquisite carvings on brackets and columns. The trade had continued through generations among these Newar artisan families, and the earthquake had, in a cruel twist of fate, provided an impetus to revive these woodcarving traditions. One of the major decisions taken foremost in the rebuilding process, was to salvage as much of the wooden structural elements, and reuse them once they were declared fit for reuse after damage and structural mapping.
This brought along an added challenge in the reconstruction effort; to determine the exact dimensions and placement of elements such as brackets, railings, columns etc. Each element has a significance in the larger placement, whether ritualistic or historic. In one instance, when overlapping salvaged central brackets had to be placed together in pairs, it was difficult to determine which two brackets had originally been paired together before the collapse of the Kasthamandap. It was the artisan’s experience that saved the day, who suggested that we look for numerical scratched markings on the wood that perhaps the 7th century carvers had left on it, who in turn must have predicted the quandary that such an operation would put future rebuilders in. And inadvertently, the process of pairing the brackets followed smoothly, once we followed the line of breadcrumbs that masters several centuries earlier had laid.
This idea of cyclical rebuilding makes sense when we consider that earthquakes are known to strike Nepal every 80-100 years. What is built will eventually have to be rebuilt when it collapses several centuries later. In our contribution to this trail of breadcrumbs that started several centuries earlier, the architects left a layer of strikingly yellow mortar in between the original foundation of the Kasthamandap, which we left untouched, and the superstructure that we built over it, to distinguish the layers in the structure for future architects and researchers down the line to refer to.
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Building Resilience
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Heritage reconstruction has several faces, and it starts to question what it means to truly ‘preserve’ a building. In Japan, the IseJingu grand shrine in the Mie prefecture is torn down every 20 years, to be built anew (Nuwer, 2013). This tradition makes sure that traditional building skills are passed down to the next generation, and the rebuilding the temple keeps it eternally alive. This argument was used repeatedly in the context of Kasthamandap. The idea was to rebuild the Kasthamandap so that it survives a major disaster, but the building is continuously repaired and rebuilt in parts, to ensure its continuity.
Today, the ground floor timber work of the Kasthamandap has reached its finishing stages. The entire construction is presumed to end in 2021, and the world awaits with bated breath a unique experiment in community based historic conservation.
Bibliography:
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Al Jazeera. (2019, June 19). Thousands in Nepal protest against cultural 'guthi' bill. Retrieved from https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2019/06/thousands-nepal-protest-cultural-guthi-bill-190619121216425.html
Bhattarai, A. (2018, March 1). Storeyed Past. The Caravan.
Government of Nepal. (2017). Kathmandu Valley World Heritage Site. Kathmandu: UNESCO.
Nuwer, R. (2013, October 4). Smithsonian Smart News. Retrieved from Smithsonianmag.com: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/this-japanese-shrine-has-been-torn-down-and-rebuilt-every-20-years-for-the-past-millennium-575558/
Risal, D. (2015, September 3). Kasthamandap: Microcosm of Kathmandu's Living Culture and Storied History. Retrieved from Asianart: https://www.asianart.com/articles/kasthamandap/index.html
Weise, K. (2006). Hanuman Dhoka Darbar Square - Cultural Portrait Handbook. Kathmandu: UNESCO, Kathmandu Office.