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Architecture and fire imagery
Modern architectural features symbolise opulence, often linked to wealth acquired by those in power.
Abhi Subedi
The Gen Z uprising of September 8 and 9 evokes, among other things, the architecture of Nepal. The dominant imagery of the uprising is fire. Many old and new structures were set ablaze. The images of charred structures Kathmandu can be seen in Kathmandu Valleyand other cities. Why did the buildings, including humble houses, become targets of the ire of the unprecedented actions in the uprising? A full answer to this question may never come. In this article, I have attempted to examine the element of fire in the architectural structure of Nepal Mandala, which includes the major cities of the Valley and the vicinity.
Before discussing the architectural features, I want to present a picture of the aftermath of the riotous day. The principal targets of the attacks were buildings of various sizes, styles and functions. I will try to briefly discuss the pattern of the attacks on architectural sites. First, I want to discuss the architectural features of the Valley and how they have become part of our culture and urban evolution.
Architecturally speaking, the buildings of the Kathmandu Valley, as listed in the studies of researchers, fall into certain categories. My criterion is based on common sense perception, with details explained in works by architects and scholars such as Carl Pruscha’s Kathmandu Valley: Preservation of Physical Environment and Cultural Heritage, a Protective Inventory (1975, 2015), Neil Gutschow’s Newar Architecture (2011, 3 volumes), Gautamvajra Vajracharya’s Hanumandhoka Rajdarbar (2033 BS), Sundarshan Raj Tiwari’s The Ancient Settlements of the Kathmandu Valley (2011) and Temples of Kathmandu Valley (2009) and Mary Shepherd Slusser’s Nepal Mandala (1982, 1998). Writings of non-architects, such as theatre scholar and academic Shiva Rijal, also contribute to this discourse.
Here, we are talking about traditional and indigenous artistic architecture, as well as buildings that are a fusion of Neoclassical and Baroque architecture. Singha Durbar can be taken as an example. We can consider other similar buildings of different sizes. The traditional Newar buildings and the now-disappearing houses of farmers in the Valley are important in discussions about architecture. One could say none of them were torched deliberately. The cause of the fire that burned down Singha Durbar on July 9, 1973, is unknown. At least I have not read any references, except for a famous poem written by a hippie poet named Ira Cohen, who was staying in Kathmandu back then. He gave the following reason for the fire of Singha Durbar in his poem, “But instead I sit here in Kathmandu &/ Ponder the significance of Singh Durbar/ In flames,/ … Shiva’s justice rendered one week/ before the revoking of all hashish/ Licenses in Nepal” (July 16, 1973). The palace was destroyed in the fire. However, the facade and the front courtyard were in good condition. But this time, the wrath is not metaphysical or divine but real yet shrouded in mystery. The victim was this architecture. I would like to present the views of architects regarding some buildings in Kathmandu.
Fire and architectural design in Kathmandu do not have a history of antagonism, as architects used fire to shape, not destroy, architecture. Wood is combustible but takes shape by using fire. Wooden architecture grew alongside the use of fire and has been sustained for ages. This is the result of a covenant between users and makers.
Urban fires are a subject of debate. We see many examples in the West, especially in Paris, London, LA, Glasgow and other cities. Urban fires are related to the burning of books and architectural sites. Fire is used to express a riotous mood and rebellion. Nazis used fire to smash liberties and burn books. Media images of burning buildings are prominently featured in city riots.
I recall attending a colloquium and exhibition of the drawings and photographs of various architectural structures at Taragaon on March 22, 2024. The exhibition’s title was “Modern Encounters in Architecture: Kathmandu Valley (1945-1985).” It was a vital exhibit organised by the Kathmandu Institute of Architects. A book with a similar theme to the exhibition was launched on the same day. It puts the views of the architects who have written confidently, “Kathmandu Valley emerged out of its medieval slumber in 1950.”
I disagree with the conclusion that Kathmandu Valley woke up from sleep in 1950, especially when the topic is architecture. The architects regard the 1950s as a milestone for architecture. The architects, including the nonagenarian Shankar Rimal, claim that modern buildings reflect the turn of modernisation in Nepal. The photographs of the contemporary buildings in the book and at the exhibitions are familiar sights; they remain important symbols of modernisation even today.
But the choice of torching and destroying the buildings during the September 8 and 9 riots raises questions. We can begin by posing basic questions: Why was the Supreme Court burned, which led to the destruction of important documents? What was the reason for burning buildings that housed hotels and shops selling daily essential items?
The selective attacks on architectural structures related to modernisation and the growing consumer economy reflect people’s attitude towards the evolution of modern society, which naturally utilises all the necessary accoutrements for that. Or does it instead reflect the unresolved tension between rural and urban life? In this sense, modern architectural features become natural targets. Fire, in this context, became a sudden medium for expressing that tension. Modern architectural features of buildings are regarded as the mark of opulence. They are often associated with money allegedly earned by those in power, who are responsible for managing the state’s property or economy.
It takes time to clear the confusion and to fully understand the causes of the unrest and ire. But the spirit of the Gen Z uprising is creative and constructive. It calls for vigilance and pragmatism. I was moved by the spirit of a young man named Milan Limbu, who saved the sabhagriha of Biratnagar—a modern architecture in the city of Biratnagar. A constructive and visionary use of fire has both symbolic and metaphorical meaning in the world of architecture. I have repeatedly been drawn to the architecture of Nepal, especially that of the Nepal Mandala. The message of such incidents is to understand the covenant between fire and architecture in construction and creation.