
CHENNAI: While you walk through the dim hallways of the vernacular houses in south India, the breeze passes unhindered, and the feet feel the firmness on concrete floors exuding the coolness from the diligently laid stones. The corners whisper the stored secrets of coolness, and the roofs reveal layers of ancient anecdotes. The walls echo the thoughts and perspectives gone in the making of the haven, flaunting the inheritance from ancient architecture.
These are traces of the traditional houses planned to combat the tropical climate enveloping the vast swathes of the south. While in Kerala, in the 18th and 19th centuries, Naalukettu tradition was looming across, in Tamil Nadu, Chettinad houses were sprawling, Gutthu houses had already thrived in coastal Karnataka since the 15th century.
Krithika Venkatesh, principal architect, Studio for Earthen Architecture, says, “Karaikudi houses or the Naalukettu houses are usually spoken as vernacular, but every context (structure) has its own identity and a style of architecture.”
Socio-cultural changes are inevitable and the changes are rapid, remarks Benny Kuriakose, a designer who has contributed to architectural conservation.
As the architectural landscapes were on a transformational journey, cities started swelling with poorly-planned skyscrapers. The need to look back at ancient architecture and construe the lessons of sustainable plans has become a dire need. The ancient insights are the cornerstone of creating well-planned architectural structures in modern days.
Roofing
Overhanging eaves, Benny says, were an important fragment of old design that has been forgotten in modern times. There was a time when thatched roofs, stones, mud, and wood were the only options accessible; houses have gradually evolved not just to fit into the demands of functionality, but also to have an aesthetic appeal. Krithika observes, “Natural grass roofing, an ancient form of roofing, is preferred by people even today, where people use manjapullu, korapullu (types of grass), which grow on mountains or lakes. We have seen 40-50-year-old thatched houses which haven’t had any maintenance issues.” The only downside is that it absorbs a lot of water during rains, and so roofing load distribution is calculated in a manner that the small parts of the roof are replaced once in six-seven years in case of too much damage.
Pantile roofs or naatu odu, handcrafted by the locals, were laid very differently based on the climate. In Karaikuidi, they were steeply placed as there is not much of wind load there. Roof tiles were placed very high in extremely dry grassland like Sivagangai, whereas, in parts of Ayampettai, Kanchipuram, Chengalpet, and Villupuram, they were placed at a much lower angle as the temperature is not high in those areas. Naatu odu were arranged in layers — around 30-40 tiles per sq ft — providing overhang and good insulation.
Vinod Kumar MM, director, dd Architects; and convener, INTACH, Thrissur Chapter, says, “The concept of tiles is that through the gaps, air flows.” Beneath the roof tiles, there would be a wooden attic, called thattumpuram, which acted as a buffer, and the heat collected escaped through the tiles. According to Benny, “Ceilings were made of timber as it is considered to be the most sustainable building material. External factors like plantations and dense trees girdling the house also act as the best sunshades.”
It was only after the industrial revolution that Mangalore tiles became famous. Krithika says, “After the Industrial Revolution, we have been discovering materials to accelerate the construction process, mostly for industrial purposes. Now, we build houses with aluminium panels, glasses, engineered wood, etc — but these are materials designed for Western countries.”
Inner-outer space
While a common sight in colder areas is the use of glass as walls to trap the heat, verandahs, courtyards, kulapuras or ponds (in Kerala) — all these were excellent spaces, a blend of indoor and outdoor areas that helped keep heat at bay. The thought behind these pools stretching from the stone steps descending from the house and barricaded tall stone walls on the three sides is to have privacy. The presence of ponds, shielded with the shade of steeped roof eaves and swaying dense trees, and wells usually attached to the kitchen walls kept the heat from getting inside the house by cooling down the air.
Krithika explains that courtyards in homes of Tamil Nadu, for instance, were designed in such a way that suits the climate. Karaikudi courtyards were elaborate — they were big because the people wanted to harvest water, whereas in Tanjavur, a region with good rainfall, there was a small courtyard, and in areas where there is extremely dry climate like Tiruttani, parts of Tirupati, courtyards were on the corner — on the north or eastern side so that they get indirect lighting and not lot of heat from the courtyard itself.
The meeting point of indoor and outdoor space was where the residents spent most of the daytime hours. The lengthy verandahs extending the four walls of the house were spaces where ammi kallu and aatu kallu (grinding stones) were kept. These areas were topped by wood and slanted roofs, so that “sunlight would not directly hit the walls; house worked as an envelope during the heat and light,” Vinod says. Krithika adds, “People would wash, cook, weave, dye, and dry yarns; farming communities used the areas for grain processing.”
Benny notes that courtyards were also made thermally comfortable. Despite characteristics like small windows, cross ventilation was a common sight in old houses. He says, “Many houses had courtyards which was a space for wind movement; it is not the temperature that is a critical factor, it is the wind movement.” Vinod adds, “The presence of jaali or latticework also balanced out the temperature, regulating the wind movement across the house.”
Darker spaces
In the book In Praise of Shadows, there is a keen admiration for Japanese architecture, appreciating dimmer spaces, a concept quite alien to the Western notion of impeccable and beautiful. Well, this dimness, sudden shift in lighting, and a dip in temperature pervade the old houses of south India, too. There are some factors contributing to the dimness. Benny opens windows to a perspective: “Over a period of time, things have changed. The need for light was not as much as we do today.” He explains that people a few hundred years ago were not engaged much in activities like reading. The architecture was always premised on requirement, the functional element. Adding another layer of slant on the darker spaces, he says, “Privacy was an important factor and so, people did not use big windows then.”
Krithika echoes the idea and says usually people went into their private spaces only to sleep. Spaces like bedrooms were intentionally made darker as they were otherwise used for storage. It was mostly for couples and people who needed privacy. The rest of the family would sleep on the nadai of the courtyards.
Walls
Another important aspect of these homes was walls. Dharmendra Kumar Arenahalli, a social historian from Mysuru says, “We have more sunny days compared to coastal areas of southern Karnataka or Kerala. We have dry summer throughout the year.” To combat the incessant heat, thicker walls (at least 20 inches) were made. The slurry from limestone when mixed with sand and plastered on the wall, makes the walls impervious to intense heat; the lime expands during summers and keeps the house cool. Raw stone and red-oxide floorings were affordable and heat-resilient.
Some of the locally derived materials for flooring, Krithika shares, were mud, clay, adobe, rammed earth structure, laterite stones, and tiles like Madras tile, and Kadappa stone (black limestone). Occasional whitewashing (limewashing) also kept the houses from heating because of amount of time it takes to get heated up.
Benny points out, “Locally available materials, social and cultural requirements, climate — all these factors go into vernacular architecture; traditional architecture is climate-responsive.” He rues that today’s workplaces and modern buildings are steering off from sustainable
architecture becoming susceptible to calamities and being a menace to the environment. Understanding that it is not possible to sweep away all the technological developments in modern architecture and to move backward, he says it is possible to choose alternative materials for building houses — not being oblivious to the thermal comfort but being conscious about viability and sustainability.