Histories are most accurately written by travellers. It takes a fresh perspective, an outsider’s eye to see something for what it is. It’s partly the reason why visitors are fascinated with India’s culture, the hubbub, the colours and the landscape, while the locals bemoan and fret about the daily nitty-gritty.
India’s architectural history of the past century is inextricably intertwined with architects who had no roots in the subcontinent, but once they made their way here, became firm sons of the soil. Their best work was often realised here as they distilled modernist predilections in the new climate they found themselves in.
Ostensibly, it all started with the Gaekwad family hiring Charles Mant for the Laxmi Vilas Palace in Baroda in 1880. Robert Chisholm, Edwin Lutyens and HV Lanchester followed suit, building to a variety of scales and commissions. By the time governor general Louis Mountbatten handed over the keys, the foreign architect had become the ultimate symbol of the Edifice Complex, as described by Deyan Sudjic.
Till this time, the visiting architects had seen little of India, believing nothing of value really existed in the local craft. The British-born gentleman architects, sweltering in their suits upon elephants during site visits, weren’t too inclined to learn about local practices — resources were seen as unlimited, as was imperial power, and being dismissive of the locals was in their best interest as other commissions would follow.
In the post-Independence era, the fabulously wealthy princes, both Indian and otherwise, were replaced with the business magnates building institutions alongside the government-making cities. Louis Kahn and Le Corbusier both saw their most impressive works come to life in India, grooming the first generation of truly Indian architects that would come to then dominate the profession — BV Doshi, Charles Correa, Hasmukh Patel were all foreign-trained and learned their craft under visiting architects. The outcomes have shaped the Indian city, as the rapidly multiplying local practices looked to emulate their western heroes.
The next generation of visiting architects to the subcontinent didn’t come as established masters of their craft. Laurie Baker, Joseph Stein and Geoffrey Bawa built up their oeuvres slowly. Smaller commissions were met with inventive forms and unique methods of tackling the climate.
Within this milieu, it is important to examine the work of Christopher Charles Benninger. Born in the United States in 1942, although Benninger’s life and career took a path similar to many of his predecessors who were drawn to the subcontinent, his work profoundly shaped its architectural landscape with a sensitivity to local culture, climate, and history.
Benninger, who died on October 2, 2024, influenced the realm of institutional architecture through his deep understanding of place and his ability to integrate modernist principles with the unique vernacular traditions of India. His life and practice exemplified the power of architecture to shape not just buildings, but the communities and institutions that inhabit them.
Benninger’s move to India was inspired by his early involvement in developmental issues and his participation in a Ford Foundation fellowship. In the early 1970s, Benninger settled in Pune, founding the Centre for Development Studies and Activities (CDSA) alongside Bernard D’Mello. This institute became a hub for research on urban development, rural planning, and the intersection of architecture with human development.
The establishment of his own practice, Christopher Charles Benninger Architects, allowed him to bring his ideals of human-centric, climate-responsive, and contextually grounded design to fruition. Benninger believed that buildings, particularly public institutions, should be designed as flexible, open, and inspiring spaces that reflect the ethos of the society they serve.
His buildings often exhibited a simplicity in form but a complexity in spatial organisation, always with an eye to creating human-scale environments that encourage interaction and community. The Cervantes building, the Suzlon campus, and the Mahindra campus showcase that complexity, weaving courtyards and shaded open spaces around buildings that hold them together. Benninger’s work has a physical kinship with the work of Joseph Stein and Geoffrey Bawa — modernism tempered by the knowledge of local climate and materials — that makes it feel incredibly rooted.
It is tempting to see Benninger’s death as the end of an era, where the wide-eyed young architect visiting India made it his home and changed the landscape. As with all predictions, one only needs to make a prophecy to have it immediately undone by the inherent uncertainty of nature. The theory is certainly not supported by the flurry of contemporary young practices that feature at least one international spouse, having been acquired during further studies and work abroad, by the growing pool of young Indian architects choosing to return to India to practise.
It is also not helped by the fact that India is once again rising to be a global power, attracting talent from around the world as we build the next 50 billion square feet over the next few decades. Contemporary architects are riding the boom in Indian real estate, sourcing materials from around the world to produce luxurious buildings for an ever-expanding pool of wealthy patrons.
As such, Benninger’s passing does mark the end of a kind of modernism that only a visitor with limited resources might practise — a compassionate modernism — a modernism that we might look back on as the best of both worlds.
Amit Khanna is design principal, AKDA, and his research focus is the transformation of cities.The views expressed are personal
