Djenné – Behind the Facade

Another talk on Djenne, this time by Charlotte Joy, an anthropologist at Cambridge, offering something quite different to the architectural perspective I have occupied so far. The many talks I have been to invariably open with an introduction on Mali, where it is etc, as one tends to to avoid any presumption of knowledge. Immediately the alternative intentions of this talk are established as I’m presented with the fact, among others, that Mali stands as the 175th poorest country in the world. Out of 193*. It’s the first time I have come across this basic fact and suddenly I feel blinkered. That’s not to say that the talk was one of doom and gloom just that this time the emphasis was on the people and how they benefit from restoration etc. You may well think, ‘of course it was, it was an anthropology talk!’. The reason that it was notable to me is that, these are the things that I think architecture can and should address. Perhaps we need to see more cross- disciplinary activity.

It’s a delicate situation when western architects/organisations decide to ’help’ less prosperous countries. We approach the scene with aspirations & priorities based on our own values.

UNESCO bestowed the whole of Djenne town with listed heritage status, protecting the wonderful architectural culture from potentially destructive development. Naturally the negative impact of this is the limiting factor. Locals are restricted in what they can do to their own homes because of our perceptions of beauty and established conceptions of importance. For instance, many inhabitants have taken to tiling the exteriors of their houses to protect the mud from the elements, tiles being much cheaper than repairs to the earth works (the work of masons is becoming, relatively, increasingly expensive due to their employment on the restoration projects and international interest in West African architecture), in some cases the tourist board have manage to prevent the use of tiles for obvious aesthetic reasons, but at what cost? It’s a bit of a dilemma. From an ethics point of view, should we even be involved at all? The idea of ‘world heritage’ is an interesting one, a building or site that procures status as a world heritage site becomes a kind of world property. Whilst I appreciate the ‘one-peopleness’ of this creation, and I do of course want to see the rich culture maintained, does this mean that the local people are in someway losing the site? Maybe not in a direct sense but we have to be careful that they are not losing some freedom in regards to development. Any kind of imposed inertia would be detrimental to the health and future of the town.

I am truly glad to see the conservation and restoration of such architectural wonders and the associated traditional techniques and knowledge. But at the same time I think it is crucial to be mindful of our approach and try to work from the inside out, from the perspective of local people, giving priority to their most pressing needs and making these projects work for them.

*These figures appear to be based on the value of produce and services of a given year compared to population. Several organisations compile these data sets the these particular figures (175/193) seem to be taken from the CIA World Factbook. Other lists, such as the World Bank and International Monetary Fund, portray a similar account.

Djenné and Sustainability

When analysing mud building, the fact that the construction footprint (including transport of materials) is little bigger than the footprint of the site itself is surely the pinnacle of sustainable construction. In Djenné the buildings are predominantly flat roofed, wooden beams spanning the mud walls, covered with mud. With the source of wood being the slow growing palm trees indigenous to the area, this system brings the sustainability aspect into question. In the case of the mosque, which is currently undergoing restoration, I think 100 years of use more than matches up to the growing rate of the palms. But as far as the town as a whole is concerned there is the issue of erosion in the desert due to the removal of trees that will need to be addressed, especially given the town’s delicate relationship with the Niger. It will be interesting to see how the traditional building techniques of the town’s people evolve to answer this problem. I’ve heard various suggested solutions including the Nubian vault, as coined and revived by Hassan Fathy, constructed without the need of timber framework and utilising the adobe bricks already in use, which are of course plentiful. But what are the consequences of introducing an outside technique? Does this in some way dilute the vernacular purity? Whatever happens a tree-planting project is due, I wonder if the Aga Khan Trust have plans to implement such a precaution. If so I think maintaining it could be the greater challenge.

An ancient technique, the Nubian Vault is constructed in layers of mud bricks without the need of wooden framework (conventional arches and vaults are normally supported by a timber frame until the keystone is set in place at the apex). Building horizontally off a vertical wall each layer of brick is angled and so supported by the previous layer.

Nubian Vaults under construction.

Djenné

Djenné (jen-nay) is a settlement in the West African country of Mali. Situated on the river Niger, which provides both life and constraints. Every year the river floods, something that is an integral part of the town’s yearly eco-cycle. Djenné is positioned in such a way that when the river does flood it becomes almost an island. This prevents any further growth outside of the current footprint so any development must happen within the current town walls.

Djenné is most famous for the Great Mosque, built entirely of mud (with the exception of the wooden roof beams). The original mosque dates back to around 1250 but the mosque that stands today is a reconstructed version, erected in about 1907 by the French. The former didn’t simply collapse but had its drainage system sabotaged, allowing water to build up during the heavy rain season and overpower the building. The mosque is now listed by UNESCO as a world heritage site and the Aga Khan Trust for Culture is working on restoration.

The Great Mosque, Djenné

One of the wonderful things about mud architecture, whether of the compressed earth or adobe brick variety, is that the buildings essentially emerge from the ground on which they stand. As a general rule for Mali towns, materials are collected from within 1.5 miles of the site. Towns not so far away from Djenné lie in a more rocky part of the desert and so rocks are gathered and incorporated into the building. In Djenné itself one of the techniques that has developed over hundreds of years is the tradition of using small, hand pressed cylindrical bricks. I think this is testament to the lack of outside influences, despite being historically significant as a commercial hub. Not being the most structurally sound solution, they remain a popular choice. The nature of mud architecture dictates that supporting columns are very regular and open floor space is limited, plans read almost like a chess board, but this is simply accepted and worked with.

Masons are central and respected figures in Mali society but in general most people possess building skills. Building extensions/alterations etc, fairly regular practice, are done by the occupying family themselves. Lumps of palm wood project from the larger facades, including those of the mosque, serving as reinforcement, decoration and built-in scaffolding.

Every year there is an event in Djenné that encapsulates the relationship between the inhabitants and the architecture and more specifically, the mosque: The re-plastering of the Great Mosque. Early in the rain season this huge but brief event takes place. It’s become a kind of communal, spiritual, joyous celebration. Everyone wants to take part, so much so that they now allocate areas of the building to areas of the town to ensure everybody is able to get involved. People swarm all over the building, enabled by the palm tree poles cantilevering from the façade, acting as permanent scaffolding. Top to bottom, the whole building is complete in about half a day. When I first heard about this I was keen to participate, or even simply observe, but the date is not marked in any calendar or planned too far in advance specifically to avoid the likes of me turning up, which I think is a very good thing. Nevertheless Mali remains my top research destination.

Re-Plastering of The Great Mosque.

Mapungubwe Interpretation Centre

My faith has been renewed. Peter Rich’s Interpretation Centre in Mapungubwe is ray of light amidst a gloomy haze of substance lacking, globally styled Architecture.

The masterly conceived cultural centre is built on a site of great local, cultural and historical significance, knowledge that is both respected and celebrated by the scheme.

For me, this is a building of the future. It’s a project that has involved the vernacular and the traditional methods of the locale and integrated them into the design process as genuine influences, not simply bolted them on. Not to mention that I see these aspects as integrally linked to true sustainable design. The design is fresh and the Architects have clearly implemented contemporary knowledge and techniques, which are also essential for moving forward.

The involvement of light around the site demonstrates a successful collaboration of these knowledge sets. Tree stalks break up the sun, providing valuable shade and conjuring images of traditional meeting places in nearby villages of both present day and centuries past. In a cave like vault the sun enters via a fissure in the ceiling, moving throughout the space over the course of the day. Involving the geology and nature of the site the centre is at once grounded and animated.

This contribution from Peter Rich Architects is just that, a contribution, one that I think it is intelligent, sensitive and designed to last.

Images taken from Architectural Review 1354 & 1356