railroad was firmly established in the Western World and formed an im-
portant part of life in the industrial era. Fighting for a place amongst the
league of theatres, museums, and city halls, railway stations took an in-
creasingly representative appearance. The more elaborate contemporary
historicist station architecture became, the more often it allowed for ex-
tensive decoration programs" (Schroeder 2013: 1). For instance, be it Eu-
ston in London, Frankfurt am Main in Germany, Gare de Lyon in Paris,
they were all adorned with sculptures that represented modern values
and ideas of the time, such as industry, trade, technology, progress.<fnref n="11" />
Similarly, telegraph and post offices also acquired a prominent presence
on the cityscape; examples included the General Post Office, Central Tele-
graph Office in London,<fnref n="12" /> Central Telegraph Office, Central Post Office
in Paris.<fnref n="13" /> Such was the prominence of these institutions in the late 19th
century that they constituted among the key indicators of modernity.

Colonial Undertones in Transport and Communication in India

The development of transport and communication in India is intrinsi-
cally linked with the Colonial Empire. Both transport and communi-
cation were essential for the spread as well as control of the Empire.
Minutes by Governor General of India Lord Dalhousie in the 1850s high-
lighted the need for good transportation and communication as a means
of economic prosperity as well as military and administrative control
(cited in Hurd and Kerr 2012: 9). There was often an underlying notion
of progress and civilisation implied in the development of transport

<footnote n="11">11 Asta von Schroeder has carried out a detailed study of iconography of metropolitan railway stations from 1850 to 1950 and the messages they conveyed. Schroeder von, Asta. "Images and Messages in the Embellishment of Metropolitan Railway Stations (1850-1950)." Berlin, Technical University Berlin, 2013.</footnote>

<footnote n="12">12 Both structures from the 19th century have been demolished. https://www.postalmuseum.org/blog/190-years-of-londons-post-office-quarter/# (07.02.2023).</footnote>

<footnote n="13">13 https://archello.com/project/la-poste-du-louvre (07.02.2023).</footnote>
and communication. At the same time, local traders and influential cit-
izens had also shown interest in these infrastructures. For instance, in
Bombay, a group called 'Bombay Great Eastern Railway' was established
in the early 1840s by the local elite to promote the cause of railways.<fnref n="14" />
Many private British companies also pushed for developing railways in
India for the commercial benefits they sought through this enterprise.
On 16th April 1853, the first railway ran in Bombay laid by the Great In-
dian Peninsula Railway Company (hereafter GIPR). The line in Calcutta
started in 1854, which was operated by the East Indian Railway Com-
pany (hereafter EIR), followed by Madras opened by the Madras Railway
Company in 1856. The railways made rapid progress in the next 20 years.
By the early 1870s, the major trunk lines were completed connecting
the Presidency cities of Bombay, Calcutta and Madras. They came to be
used by the British and Indians alike. The railways were an important
infrastructure that spurred the growth of metropolises. They became
the central landmarks and nodes around which many businesses were
aligned. They were well connected to ports and became the gateways
to the cities. Railway stations became important markers in public life.
The temporary makeshift structures soon gave way to grand modern
structures with state-of-the-art facilities for passengers, primarily for
first and second classes.

Post offices witnessed early developments from the late 18th cen-
tury. In 1787, a postmaster was appointed for communication between
important towns. It was subsequently followed by the establishment of
a General Post Office and the commencement of overseas postal com-
munication before the turn of the century (Chaudhari 1987: 759–760).

<footnote n="14">14 "Classified Ad 5- no Title, *The Bombay Times and Journal of Commerce* (1838-1859), Jul 20, 462, 1844. Later, the group was renewed into an Inland Railway Association in Bombay and merged its interests with the Great Indian Peninsula Railway Company, a private joint-stock company established in England to promote the cause of railways in Bombay and the surrounding region. "Article 2--no Title: Abstract of Accounts of The Great Eastern Railway Company", *The Bombay Times and Journal of Commerce*, Aug 09, 1845; p. 527.</footnote>
Telegraph was introduced in India 1854 and all main lines were con-
nected between Bombay, Calcutta, and Madras in the next few years
(Chaudhari 1987: 761). In the 1860s, India was connected with Europe via
telegraph lines. As these networks grew, infrastructure was needed for
their operations. Transport and communication infrastructures were
well integrated in the urban planning programmes of the late 19th cen-
tury, mainly in principal cities in India. The architectural styles chosen
often corresponded with the architectural styles of other public build-
ings of the time. In Bombay, acceleration in public building activity took
place in the late 1860s following the demolition of Fort that once stood to
protect the core settlement from the early 18th century. With the initia-
tive of the then Governor Sir Bartle Frere and planner James Trubshawe,
a systematic plan for architectural and urban development was drafted
and Victorian Gothic, the style then popular in England, was adopted
(Dwivedi and Mehrotra 2001: 95). A series of public buildings, such as
the Secretariat, University, High Court, Public Works Department were
designed in Victorian Neo Gothic style and built along the Esplanade.<fnref n="15" />
Within the same visual plane, General Post Office and Central Telegraph
Office were constructed in the 1870s, both also in Neo Gothic style.

Designed by James Trubshawe and Walter Paris, the General Post Of-
fice was completed in the early 1870s.<fnref n="16" /> A handsome three-storey struc-
ture, it had two towers with high-pitched roofs dominating the skyscape
(Dwivedi and Mehrotra 2001: 100). In the early 20th century, the post of-
fice was moved to a new building next to Victoria Terminus railway sta-
tion. The new building was constructed to the designs of John Begg, con-
sulting architect to the Government. The principle features of the build-
ing were the massive circular dome, inspired by the 17th century local ar-
chitecture from Bijapur- Gol Gumbaz and the large central hall accom-

<footnote n="15">15 Gothic architecture of the time in Bombay has been discussed by many histo-
rians; See, for instance, Davies 1985; Charles, Morris, Tindall et. al., 1986; Lang,
Desai and Desai, 1997; London, 2002; Morris, 2005.</footnote>

<footnote n="16">16 "The new government buildings on the esplanade: the secretariat the ..., The Times of India, 1871, Jun 1.</footnote>
modating different postal functions.<fnref n="17" /> As the Post Office moved out of the premises on the Esplanade, it was taken over by the Central Telegraph Office. Their other building, adjacent to it, designed by Walter Paris in the early 1870s in Neo Gothic style, was connected to the newly acquired building.<fnref n="18" />

<figure><img src="image_38.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 32: Mumbai, Flora Fountain: a major communication junction in the centre of Fort.</figcaption></figure>

The climax in Neo Gothic style in Bombay can be seen at Victoria Terminus. Built for the headquarters of the GIPR, the building was designed by architect Frederick William Stevens. It was completed in 1888 and became the largest public building in Bombay of the time, together with its adjacent station shed catering to the suburban and long-distance traffic (Mehrotra and Dwivedi 2006: 137).<fnref n="19" /> The building was characterised by architectural grandeur, rich decorations and lavish treatment of spaces. Of particular significance was the octagonal dome

<footnote n="17">17 http://www.mmrhcs.org.in/index.php/heritage-information-system/information-system (07.02.2023).</footnote>

<footnote n="18">18 "Quicker telegrams: new Bombay...," *The Times of India*, 1916, Mar 11; p. 9.</footnote>

<footnote n="19">19 Mehrotra, Dwivedi, 2006. This book discusses the architecture and construction of Victoria Terminus in detail.</footnote>
which adorned the building, with a 5'6" statue of progress on top. Frederick William Stevens won great acclaim for his designs and execution of Victoria Terminus and earned many other commissions including the designs for the other railway company headquarters in Bombay, i.e. the Bombay Baroda & Central India Railway (hereafter BB&CI). The BB&CI office (completed 1900), smaller in scale and ornamentation than the GIPR offices, still had a charm of its own (Mehrotra and Dwivedi 2000: 73). With a central circular dome and smaller cupolas, it showed a nice transition towards the Indo-Saracenic style, which became a popular style in the early 20th century Bombay.<fnref n="20" />

Whereas the architecture used for transport and communication reflected the popular and current styles of the time, the railway stations predominantly showcased extravagance. Railways were built by the private companies in the 19th century and the competition for new commissions was particularly fierce across the world. According to Schroeder, "In terms of form, the craving for acceptance by the more established social arbiters explains the confident use of representational codes as embodied by allegoric décor, expensive material, generous handling of space...". (Schroeder 2013: 272).

Railway stations were termed "cathedrals of new humanity" (cited in Richards and MacKenzie 1986: 3). The railways were very important for goods traffic and the subsequent industrial and commercial advancements. The symbols depicted on the building are a testimony to the role the railways played. In India, Victoria Terminus was adorned with allegories representing agriculture, commerce, and industry as well as science and engineering were used at various apex points. The climax was the use of Statue of Progress atop the dome (London 2002: 90-92). On the headquarters of the BB&CI building, an allegory of engineering was represented on the central gable (Mehrotra and Dwivedi 2000: 73). Telegraph and post affairs were controlled by the government from the beginning. The use of statuary was less prominent on the telegraph and

<footnote n="20">20 Indo-Saracenic combined Classical and Gothic models of British architecture with Indian and Islamic motifs. For the detailed discussion on the development of this style in India, see, for instance, Tillotson, 1994.</footnote>
post office buildings though elaborate architectural arrangements were
made to house these infrastructures.

Transport and communication architecture had different connotations. Saloni Mathur states, “Native views of India would often celebrate Britain’s architectural achievements in the colony through photographs of sites such as a statue of Queen Victoria in Rawalpindi, a post office in Lucknow, or a railway station in Calcutta. These images of British architecture-of buildings, bridges, gateways, and arches-functioned as symbols of Britain’s industrial strength in the colony and underscored ideologies of Western progress in India” (Mathur 2007: 116). Transport and communication were considered key agents of progress and civilisation in the 19th century everywhere in the world as already outlined above. The British bringing progress and civilisation to India through these developments was apparent in discussions on a number of occasions in press and media. For instance, when the railways were inaugurated in Bombay in 1853, this idea echoed in the speeches of the dignitaries. Speaking at the inauguration ceremony of the first railway, Sir William Yardley, the then Chief Justice of Bombay, believed that “a well desired system of Railways, ably and prudently executed, would be the most powerful of all worldly instruments of the advancement and civilization in every respect...”<fnref n="21" /> James Berkley, the engineer of the GIPR, who worked on the first railways, added: “It may seem a little thing to those who are familiar with the history of recent days, to open a Railway only twenty (20) miles long, but we have today publicly introduced to this rich and populous nation those two great agents, Steam and Iron... in the form of the most powerful system that modern invention has devised for the extension of Commerce and for the promotion of civilization...”<fnref n="22" /> This notion reflected in architecture as well. Civilizing and raising the aesthetic taste of Indians was also often mentioned in speeches and newspapers. Sir Richard Temple, the governor of Bombay, complained in 1881, “The style of many British structures was so erroneous or defective as to exercise a

<footnote n="21">21 *The Bombay Times and Journal of Commerce*. Apr 16, 1855, cited in: Sharma, 1985; p. 17.</footnote>

<footnote n="22">22 *Ibid*.</footnote>
debasing influence on the minds of those Natives, who might be induced
to admire or imitate it as being the production of a dominant and pre-
sumably a more civilized race" (Evenson 1989: 60). Transport and com-
munication infrastructure served the key purpose to promote the gov-
ernment agenda as they were frequented by local citizens and Europeans
alike.

At the same time, they represented the global values promoted in the
19th century as consequences of the industrial Revolution. Multiple sim-
ilarities can be found in the way this architecture and its use developed
and evolved across the world. Innovations in technology and new ways
of living were equated with modernity of the time. This urge towards be-
coming 'modern' was well desired in architecture and urban planning.
For instance, when Victoria Terminus was being constructed, the Bom-
bay Government insisted on a modern building that would align with
city's image. *The Architect* of 1886 notes: "Various plans for the new offices
and station were submitted to the directors and the Government from
time to time, but none of them were approved of, as they failed to satisfy
one of the principal conditions laid down, that they should be suited to
the importance of the city, and in consonance with its modern architec-
tural features."<fnref n="23" /> While these buildings served the representational pur-
poses, they were primarily functional buildings. A lot of attention was
given to creating state-of-the-art facilities and comforts. But they also
shaped the society by facilitating certain behaviours and realigned the
notions of gender, class, and race and had wider economic, socio-cul-
tural impact.

Changing Architectural Norms of the 20th Century

In the early 20th century, the shift in the idea of modernity was appar-
ent and reflected in architecture as well. During this period in India,
use of electricity became more common. Technology continued to evolve;

<footnote n="23">23 "An Indian Railway Terminus", *The Architect*, 1886, Vol. XXXV; p. 15–18.</footnote>
transport and communication systems got transformed. Railway transport increased multi-fold. Trams were electrified; motor transport was introduced. Along with telegraph, telephones started being more common in use. As transport and communication infrastructures continued to penetrate distant regions in India, the existing architecture proved inadequate to accommodate the rising demands. New buildings had to be constructed for this purpose. For these constructions, different architectural styles were chosen than their previous counterparts. Among the most impressive developments in railway architecture in the early 20th century was the construction of the principal railway station of the EIR at Howrah. The new station was constructed by demolishing an existing smaller station, originally built in 1854. The Howrah station designed by Halsey Ricardo, a well-known supporter of arts and crafts movement (Morris 2005: 128). With its eight towers and symmetrical facades, it was a masterpiece with Moorish-Romanesque influences. Opened in 1906, the red-brick station was impressive for its scale; this was the largest station in India and continues to hold this status even today.

<figure><img src="image_39.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 33: Howrah, New Railway Station.</figcaption></figure>

As traffic increased, need was felt for more infrastructure to suffice the traffic and technological transformations. In the 1920s and 30s, both principal stations on GIPR and BB&CI, i.e. Victoria Terminus
and Churchgate were remodeled and new building extensions were erected. Both these buildings were characterized by simplistic style but with modern facilities. Steel-frame and reinforced cement concrete were popular building materials of the time. Nonetheless, they complemented their earlier counterparts in the choice of facing material of stone and layouts. This modern movement in architecture in the 20th century moved away from previous aesthetics. According to Norma Evenson, "The unadorned grandeur of certain industrial structures inspired concepts of a new monumentality, while commercial blocks provided an aesthetic based on the expression of structural framing elements" (Evenson 1989: 158). While technological innovations were at the heart of this modern architecture, elaborate ornamentation of the previous genre was discarded. During this time, transport and communication infrastructures had become integral to public life. The colonial underpinnings of these systems were already overshadowed with their utilitarian nature. It was perhaps also the reason that their transition into the post-independence period was rather smooth.

## Utilitarian Needs of the Post-Independence Period

Indian independence in 1947 further accelerated the demand for these infrastructures. They were essential for building new India and the newly established sovereign Government of India advocated the strengthening of these infrastructures for the development and progress of the new nation. As Marian Aguiar argues, "Given the centrality of technological development during the colonial period, it is not surprising that after independence, the railway would maintain its key ideological role within India. The train, previously a symbol of colonial rule, became the sign of an independent, industrialized nation" (Aguiar 2011: 102). Once more, the rising pressure on transport and communication infrastructure necessitated construction of new buildings. During this phase, RCC high-rise structures, the common norm of the time, was adopted. These new buildings once again reflected the quest for modernism.
At Churchgate terminus in Bombay, a new station building was erected in 1956, as can be seen in the postcard. As the Maharashtra State Gazetteer outlines, "Due to tremendous expansion of industry and trade in this metropolis, traffic on the suburban section has increased a good deal and old station had to be remodeled" (Chaudhari 1987: 651). Following its construction in the late 19th century, the station underwent changes a number of times. Finally, in the mid-1950s, a seven storeyed building was constructed with a spacious concourse hall, which included all visitor amenities.

<figure><img src="image_40.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 34: Kolkata, New Telephone Exchange.</figcaption></figure>

The telephone services also underwent massive expansions during this period. The telephones were inaugurated in Calcutta, Madras, and Bombay in 1882. While the government controlled the telephone lines, it offered licenses to private companies to establish telephone exchanges, with Oriental Telephone Company Limited receiving the initial contract in 1881. The Calcutta Central Exchange was located in 1, Council House Street.<fnref n="24" /> The use of telephones picked up manifold

<footnote n="24">24 http://www.calcutta.bsnl.co.in/main footer/Main-footer_Company.html#:~:te xt=28th%20January%2C%201882%20is%20a,in%20Calcutta%2C%20Madra s%20and%20Bombay (07.02.2023).</footnote>
in the post-independence period.<fnref n="25" /> As demands rose, a new Telephone Exchange building was erected at Dalhousie Square (now BDD Bagh) in the mid-1950s. Not much information could be gathered about the New Telephone Exchange. This seven storey structure seems to have been erected by the firm of Ballardie, Thompson, and Matthews in 1956.<fnref n="26" /> Known as Telephone Bhavan, it enjoyed a vantage position in central Calcutta together with several other systems, including General Post Office and Telegraph Office. Along with roads and railways, a new form of transport was popularised in the post-independence period. The air transport was slow to develop in India. Despite early efforts in the beginning of the 20th century, the air traffic remained limited. The Civil Aviation Department constituted in 1927 and aerodromes were created. A few air services were introduced, such as Imperial Airways Service running between Croydon and Delhi and the service introduced by the Tata Airways Ltd. in 1932 within the Indian subcontinent (Chaudhari 1987: 657–58). However, it was only after independence that the service was expanded. The construction of Bombay Airport on the location of previous Air Force hangers at Santacruz began in the early 1950s and the new airport was opened for traffic in 1958 to handle the increasing domestic and international passenger traffic.<fnref n="27" /> The terminal building consisted of modern facilities for passenger conveniences. Within the next two decades, a new terminal at Sahar was added to cater to the increasing international services. As public infrastructure, the transport and communication systems continued to be expanded. They were already localised but were further appropriated through name changes. In the 1950s, the railway system was reorganised and the GIPR became Central Railway and BB&CI was incorporated into Western Railway;

<footnote n="25">25 It was taken over by the Post and Telegraph Department of the Government of India in 1943. In 1985, the post and telegraph were separated, and telephone came under the Department of Telecom. In 2000, Bharat Sanchar Nigam Limited (BSNL) was established as a central public sector undertaking.</footnote>

<footnote n="26">26 http://wikimapia.org/174005/Telephone-Bhavan (07.02.2023).</footnote>

<footnote n="27">27 "Construction of New Buildings: BOMBAY AIRPORT", *The Times of India*, May 4, 1957; p.2. The new terminal for international traffic was opened at Sahar in the vicinity of the Santacruz airport in 1980. Chaudhari, 1987; p. 659–60.</footnote>
EIR was reconstituted as Eastern Railway; all as branches of Indian Railways, a public entity. Subsequently, the names of stations also changed so also of the principal cities. Victoria Terminus became Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus in 1996, (later renamed Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus in 2017).<fnref n="28" /> Bombay Airport also assumed the name of Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport in 1999 (later renamed Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj International Airport in 2018).<fnref n="29" /> Public memory has still retained the old names to a great extent. It offers testimony to affinities people have developed over time with these systems. They are integral to the functioning of everyday and have become the lifelines for people. They are also landmarks in the regions they serve, but their importance transcends beyond as cultural icons of the country.

<figure><img src="image_41.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 35: Mumbai, Western Railway Office.</figcaption></figure>

<footnote n="28">28 "Mumbai's Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus renamed to Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus", *India Today*, Jun 30, 2017. https://www.indiatoday.in/education-today/gk-current-affairs/story/mumbai-chhatrapati-shivajiterminus-renamed-1021708-2017-06-30 (07.02.2023).</footnote>

<footnote n="29">29 "Mumbai airport renamed as Chhatrapati Shivaji 'Maharaj' International Airport.", *The Indian Express*, Aug 30, 2018. https://indianexpress.com/article/india/mumbai-airport-chhatrapati-shivaji-maharaj-international-airport-5333252/ (07.02.2023).</footnote>
Transport and Communication as Heritage Symbols

Many of the transport and communication infrastructures from the 19th and 20th century continue to be in use even today. Given their architectural aesthetics and historical importance, these structures have become heritage landmarks. In Mumbai, a heritage list was created by the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation in 1995, in which properties have been graded as I, IIA & B and III (Heritage Regulations for Greater Bombay 1995). While Central Telegraph Office is Grade IIA, both Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus and Western Railway Offices are Grade I structures. In addition, Victoria Terminus has been inscribed on a UNESCO World Heritage List since 2004, which has elevated its status internationally (CST Nomination File 945rev 2004). However, what the heritage designation often overlooks is the continued use and technological and industrial values that these monuments possess.

If one looks at the existing transport and communication infrastructure today, one can often find traces of original structures, built in the early 19th and 20th century. They have been expanded, refurbished with changing technologies, and needs of space, time, and societies. The use of new materials, technological innovations, constant experimentations, and evolutions have characterised these infrastructures. This technological and industrial aesthetics is also an integral part of their heritage, hitherto less explored. Change is constant in case of infrastructures, but one can see continuities in these systems as well. This functionality of heritage should be taken into account and other ancillary built and intangible elements that embody this heritage should be identified. This postcard collection with its focus on highlighting the transport and communication infrastructures aims to bring about awareness of their values and expand the notions of their heritage. They have been previously looked at as parts of urban or architectural history, but their role as infrastructures and their relations to the everyday functioning or as emblems of technology and shifting modernity opens up new perspectives of looking at them not just as isolated structures but within their changing contexts. In this case, heritage also assumes the function of manag-
ing change to ensure their future sustenance while retaining their historical, aesthetic, and cultural importance.

## References

Aguiar, Marian, *Tracking Modernity: India's Railway and The Culture of Mobility*, Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press, 2011.

Allen, Charles; Morris, Jan; Tindall, Gillian; Amery, Colin; Stamp, Gavin, *Architecture of the British Empire*, London, Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1986.

Chaudhari, K. K., *Maharashtra State Gazetteers: Greater Bombay District*, Vol. II., 1987.

CST Nomination File 945rev 2004. http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/945.

Davies, Philip, *Splendours of the Raj: British Architecture in India, 1660 to 1947*, London, John Murray, 1985.

Dwivedi, Sharada; Mehrotra, Rahul, *Bombay: The Cities Within*, Mumbai, Eminence, 2001.

Evenson, Norma, *The Indian Metropolis: A View Toward the West*, New Haven, Yale University Press, 1989.

*Heritage Regulations for Greater Bombay*, Urban Development Department, Government of Maharashtra. Mumbai 1995, revised 2012.

Hurd, John; Kerr, Ian J., *India's Railway History- A Research Handbook*, Leiden, BRILL, 2012.

Lang, Jon; Desai, Madhavi; Desai, Miki, *Architecture and Independence: The Search for Identity—India 1880 to 1980*, London, Oxford University Press, 1997.

London, Christopher W., *Bombay Gothic*, Mumbai, India Book House, 2002.

Mehrotra, Rahul; Dwivedi, Sharada, *Anchoring a City Line 1899–1999: The history of the western suburban railway and its headquarters in Bombay*, Mumbai, Eminence, 2000.

Mehrotra, Rahul, *A City Icon: Victoria Terminus, Bombay 1887; Now Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, Mumbai 1996*, Mumbai, Eminence, 2006.
Mann, Michael, "The Deep Digital Divide: The Telephone in British India 1883-1933", in: *Historical Social Research / Historische Sozialforschung* 35/1, 2010; p. 188-208, http://www.jstor.org/stable/20762435

Morris, Jan, *Stones of Empire: The Buildings of the Raj*, New York, Oxford University Press, first published 1983; 2005.

Richards, Jeffrey; MacKenzie, John M., *The Railway Station: A Social History*, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1986.

Sharma, S. N., *History of The Great Indian Peninsula Railway* (1853-1869), Mumbai, S.D.G.M. Central Railway, 1985.

Tillotson, Giles H. R., "Orientalizing the Raj: Indo-Saracenic Fantasies.", in: *Architecture in Victorian and Edwardian India*, Mumbai, Marg Publications, 1994; p. 15-34.
<figure><img src="image_42.png" /></figure>
Before take-off: waiting for India's
globalization at the Sahar International
Airport in 1974

Yves-Marie Rault-Chodankar

<figure><img src="image_43.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 36/37: Left: Mumbai, Sahar International Airport, photograph from the 1960s. Right: Verso of the above-mentioned postcard.</figcaption></figure>

"On my way to Delhi! My dear Sachse! Let me thank you one more time for the Christmas gifts Nehr got me, especially Forster's volumes. I am glad he'll go back in three days, even though India's climate is now at its best, but the stay was hectic. 1000 greetings from [readable name]"

These few lines by a German traveler, written to a friend in Leipzig, suggest that the purpose of his Indian trip was not tourism. His journey was hectic, and he is happy that his friend can return to Germany, even though, as he notes, the weather has turned pleasant. Looking at the postage stamps, we can guess that it is early or late 1974 in Mumbai when
the city enjoys the moderate sun of winter. Not a tourist, he probably is not a hippy either. In the 1970s, the many Westerners who traveled to India to experience the local spiritual heritage did it through the "hippie trail," a popular overland route that went through countries such as Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and finally, India. But our German traveler picked a photo of Mumbai's airport, suggesting he was travelling by air, a true privilege in the 1970s when a round-trip from Germany to India could have cost the price of a car.

The Sahar International Airport, as it was then named, is photographed from its outside. The photograph captures the terminal's entrance, with its pristine white concrete walls supported by light pillars. The flowers add a touch of warmth and beauty to the scene, creating a striking contrast with the concrete and steel of the airport. The red flowers of the West Indian Jasmine, widely used in weddings, bloom throughout the year in South Asia. As for the sunflowers, a symbol of hope and renewal, they seem to be a fitting metaphor for the airport that was going to take India on a global journey.

## When India was sleeping: the modest role of Mumbai airport in 1970s India

However, in the early 1970s, India was still sleeping. In the photograph, the airport is deserted, and the only movement in the picture comes from the parked cars, which gives a sense of stillness and emptiness. The Sahar International Airport was built during the British colonial period in India. It was commissioned by the British government and constructed by the Public Works Department of the British Government in India. After India's independence, the airport was nationalized and was placed under the control of the Indian government, managed by the Ministry of Civil Aviation and later by the Airports Authority of India, which is responsible for developing and managing airports in India. As a functional building, mostly meant to fulfill the needs of the colonial administration, the airport was the opposite of impressive. What strikes is the minimalism of the façade of the terminal building, in the epoch of Art Deco. In
addition to the main terminal building, the airport also had several other
buildings and facilities built in the same architectural style, such as the
control tower, the cargo terminal, and the maintenance hangars.<fnref n="1" /> When
it would be revamped as the modern Chhatrapati Shivaji International
Airport in the 21st century, the airport would over-emphasize Indian ele-
ments such as dome-shaped roofs, arches, tall and slender columns with
traditional Indian motifs. In the early 1970s, the Sahar International Air-
port could not accommodate more than 600 passengers at any time and
served a limited number of domestic and international destinations.<fnref n="2" />
Also, it hosted a few cargo flights, transporting sensitive goods such as
electronic components, machinery, and high-value goods. The postcard
was probably sent by airmail service, along with other small packages
and parcels.

Dreaming of greatness: the ambitions of an Indian airport

Still, the Sahar International Airport was India's largest airport at the
time, and the main entry gate to the country, probably explaining
why our German traveler first landed in Mumbai. The cities of Delhi,
Kolkata, Chennai, Ahmedabad, Bengaluru, and Hyderabad also had
international airports, but Mumbai was a major center of cotton trade
and textile production and the main financial hub of India, connected to
the world.<fnref n="3" /> Also, it was home to the famous Tata Airlines. The airline is

<footnote n="1">1 For a view of the airport in 1970, see Mumbai Airport, 1970s India, HD from 16mm, YouTube. s. d. URL: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQDGa7g_P_l&ab_channel=Kinolibrary (15.02.2023).</footnote>

<footnote n="2">2 Shoba, Gupta; Singh, Uday Chander, "Travellers Can Breathe Freely with Brand New and Improved Terminal at Sahar in Bombay", *India Today*, 31/12/1980. URL: https://www.indiatoday.in/magazine/tourism/story/19801231-travellers-can-breathe-freely-with-brand-new-and-improved-terminal-at-sahar-in-bombay-73676-2013-11-29 (15.02.2023).</footnote>

<footnote n="3">3 Patel, S.; Masselos, J. (eds.), *Bombay and Mumbai: The City in Transition*, New Delhi, New York, Oxford University Press, 2003.</footnote>
intertwined with the history of India's aviation.<fnref n="4" /> It was founded in 1932 as Tata Airlines, later nationalized in 1946 and renamed Air India. In the 1950s, Air India became one of the first carrier in the world to operate jet aircraft, and it was also one of the first airlines to fly to the United States and Canada. When Sahar International Airport was built and opened in 1942, the company was one of the main carriers operating out of the airport, alongside Indian Airlines, which mainly served domestic routes. Amongst the foreign airlines, the leading ones were British Airways, Air France, Lufthansa, KLM, and Pan American Airways. Although the airport looks asleep in the photograph, India was on the cusp of a significant transformation. A symbol of British colonial engineering, it became the symbol of India's dream of greatness as India gained its independence in 1947. In the early 1970s, the country was emerging from its post-independence economic struggles and was starting to industrialize, leaving behind its primarily agricultural economy.<fnref n="5" /> The development and operation of a major international airport like Sahar International Airport represented a significant investment in the country's transportation infrastructure. It symbolized the country's will to integrate with the global economy and its efforts to project a modern and progressive image of India.

## Rooting for the world: locating the airport in Mumbai

The airport's location, near the city of Mumbai, made it easily accessible to the large population of the city, and it was also located near the coast, which allowed for aircraft to take off and land over the sea, reducing the noise pollution over the residential areas. Located in the suburb of Santa Cruz, it was built on land primarily used for agriculture and was relatively flat and open, making it ideal for constructing runways

<footnote n="4">4 Tata J., "The Sixteenth British Commonwealth Lecture: The Story of Indian Air Transport", *Current Science*, 1994; p. 455-479.</footnote>

<footnote n="5">5 Rothermund, Dietmar, *India: The rise of an Asian giant*, Yale, Yale University Press, 2008.</footnote>
and taxiways. In the 1970s, it would have taken 45 minutes to an hour to reach Colaba by taxi, as the airport was not well connected to public transportation. It was however signaling an early shift in the city-core of Mumbai.<fnref n="6" />

Our German traveler, as he left the airport, would have first passed through the surrounding neighborhoods, likely a mix of small, densely populated residential and commercial areas with small shops and businesses.<fnref n="7" /> The buildings in these areas would probably be relatively low-rise, made of brick or concrete. He would then likely see more open spaces and greenery, including small farms and fields, wetlands, and mangrove forests.

<figure><img src="image_44.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 38: *North-western suburb of Mumbai, residential buildings built in the 1970s.*</figcaption></figure>

These areas would be dotted with small villages and rural communities with traditional occupations such as fishing. Getting closer to Co-

<footnote n="6">6 Sita, K.; Phadke, V.S.; Swapna, Banerjee (eds.), *The Declining City-Core of an Indian Metropolis: A Case Study of Bombay*, New Delhi, Concept Pub. Co., 1988.</footnote>

<footnote n="7">7 For photos of Mumbai during its transformative years after independence till the early 1990s, see: Dwivedi, Sharada; Mehrotra Rahul, *Bombay The Cities within*, Mumbai, Eminence, 2001.</footnote>
laba, our traveler would start to see more densely populated areas, with taller buildings and more developed infrastructure. The streets would be more crowded, and there would be more traffic. Alongside establishments from the Victorian period, he could begin to see a few buildings made of concrete and glass.

## Rising above the Paddy: the transformation of Mumbai's airport

The airport's area of Santa Cruz, once in the suburbs of Mumbai, is now at the heart of the city. From a population of about 6 million inhabitants in the 1970s, the city hosted more than 21 million individuals in 2023, transforming the face of the city.<fnref n="8" /> Thanks to its easy access to international and domestic travel, Santa Cruz has accommodated several large companies, including multinational corporations, which has led to the development of many service-based industries, such as banking, finance, and insurance.<fnref n="9" /> The transformation of the airport, known as Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj International Airport since 1999, reflects the growing demand for air travel in Mumbai and India.

As India liberalized and globalized in the 1980s, putting an end to the “Hindu” rate of growth (a witty term invented for the 3.5% rate of growth that had prevailed till then), the airport underwent several expansions and renovations to keep up with the growing demand for air travel. With the liberalization of India’s economy in the 1990s, the airport expanded to accommodate larger aircraft and to improve passenger facilities. In 2006, like most Indian airports, it was privatized and bought

<footnote n="8">8 Saglio, Marie-Caroline, "Mumbai: mutations spatiales d'une métropole en expansion", *Mappemonde* 62/2, 2001; p.26-31. URL: https://doi.org/10.3406/mappe.2001.1654 (15.02.2023).</footnote>

<footnote n="9">9 Imbach, Ruedi, "Vers une «global city region»? Stratégies économiques, déploiement spatial et politiques d'accompagnement à Mumbai", *Métropoles*, 2011/9. URL: https://metropoles.revues.org/4469 (15.02.2023).</footnote>
by the Adani group, owned by one of the country's wealthiest men, a tycoon whose fortune was made by developing global infrastructures in India. The old terminal, visible in the photo, does not exist anymore and has been replaced by two new terminals. The main terminal building was also stretched and renovated to provide more passenger space, and new facilities, such as duty-free shops and restaurants, were added. With the continuous addition of new runways and taxiways, the airport is now one of the busiest in India. It handles about 50 million passengers and 1 million metric tons of cargo annually.<fnref n="10" />

Our German traveler would not recognize Mumbai's airport anymore. Now a blend of traditional Indian and modern styles, featuring a central dome structure with arched openings and intricate carvings combined with clean lines and sleek glass facades, the airport that once reflected the country's sleepiness now represents the airport's emphasis on global lifestyle and economic prosperity. The India that was waiting at the terminal of the Sahar International Airport in 1974 has taken off.

## References

* Dwivedi, Sharahdha; Mehrotra, Rahul, *Bombay: The Cities Within*, Mumbai, Eminence, 2001.

* Gupta, Shoba; Singh, Uday Chander, "Travellers Can Breathe Freely with Brand New and Improved Terminal at Sahar in Bombay," *India Today*, 31 December 1980.

* Imbach, Romain, "Vers une 'global city region'? Stratégies économiques, déploiement spatial et politiques d'accompagnement à Mumbai," *Métropoles*, 2011/9.

* Patel, Sujata; Masselos, Jim (eds.), *Bombay and Mumbai: The City in Transition*, New Delhi& New York, Oxford University Press, 2003.

* Rothermund, Dieter, *India: The rise of an Asian giant*, New Haven, Yale University Press, 2008.

<footnote n="10">10 "About us | Mumbai International Airport (BOM) | CSMIA", URL: https://csmia.adaniairports.com/about-us.aspx (15.02.2023).</footnote>
Saglio, Marie-Caroline, “Mumbai: mutations spatiales d’une métropole en expansion,” *Mappemonde* 62, 2001/2; p. 26–31.

Sita, K.; Phadke, V. S.; Swapna, Banerjee, *The Declining City-Core of an Indian Metropolis: A Case Study of Bombay*, New Delhi, Concept Pub. Co, 1988.

Tata, Dadabhoy R. Jehangir, “The Sixteenth British Commonwealth Lecture: The Story of Indian Air Transport,” *Current Science*, 1994; p. 455–79.

<figure><img src="image_45.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 39: Mumbai, Malabar Point and Bombay Bay in 1900, before the international economic boom and trade globalization.</figcaption></figure>
# The Taj Mahal Hotel, Imperial, Sun'n'Sand, Oberoi, and others: the Indian chapter of the 20th-century grand hotel

Éléonore Muhidine

<figure><img src="image_46.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 40: New Delhi, Interior courtyard of the Oberoi Hotel in the 1970s.</figcaption></figure>

The postcards showing views of luxury hotels, most of them 5-star rated, located in the cities of Mumbai, New Delhi, and Agra, are perhaps the least critical visual resources of the collection. As advertising objects, products of the mass tourism industry, these images seek only to seduce their recipient—and potential future client—with the sweet promise of an unforgettable stay. Whether shot from the front or at an angle, the images of these grand hotels give an impression of fortress architecture,
impregnable modern and generic monuments that seem to guarantee
an untroubled holiday, their luxurious rooms, gourmet restaurants, and
relaxation areas sealed off from the outside world. On the reverse of
the cards, the desire to seduce continues: “luxurious living” “Fully air-
conditioned,” “Finest cuisine”, “Swimming Pool,” “Symbol of Luxury,
Comfort and Good Living,” “Overlooking the Taj Mahal.” The hotels have
been locations for international film productions<fnref n="1" /> – and, in the case of
the Taj Mahal and Oberoi Trident hotels, sites of terrorist incidents (in
1993 and 2008). Beyond the dramatic topography and associations with
events that temporarily damaged their public image, these large hotels,
built between 1902 and 1973, reflect the political and economic transfor-
mation of India in the 20th century: the ardent desire for independence
embodied by the Swadeshi movement; the rise of corporations such as
the steel giant Tata; and foreign covetousness towards a region of huge
potential.

The grand hotels of India: urban markers of decolonization
and Independence (Taj Mahal Hotel, Ashok, Oberoi, and Clarks)

An Indian project par excellence, the Taj Mahal Hotel (1903) was com-
missioned by the founder of the Tata group and businessman Jamshedji
Tata (1839–1904) and designed by the architect Sitaram Khanderao
Vaidya. Born out of one man’s ambition to establish Bombay as an
international financial centre, India’s first grand hotel also represented
a reaction against the spatial discrimination that existed around 1900
in Bombay. The city’s major hotels had a discriminatory access policy
that prohibited Indians from entering. Watson’s Hotel and the Apollo,
meccas of international cultural sociability in Bombay, were two such.
As the architect Rahul Mehrotra observes: “The expansion of the city in
the 1890s had led to the construction of more hotels such as the Apollo
on Colaba Causeway, but most of these were open only to Europeans. It

<footnote n="1">1 The Taj Mahal Hotel in Mumbai appears in several scenes in Christopher Nolan's film *Tenet* (2020).</footnote>
was perhaps to counter the racial prejudice of the time that Jamshedji Tata took the decision to build the Taj, where Indians of all castes and creeds could freely socialise amongst themselves and with European on neutral ground."<fnref n="2" /> The sense of injustice felt by the limited access policy (we should emphasise the importance of closed social spaces in Bombay, and in particular the many members-only clubs) intensified in the period 1900–1920, when the hotels became cultural spaces with their own events, including jazz concerts<fnref n="3" /> and movie screenings. Indeed, in 1896, Watson's Hotel (the first prefabricated steel structure in India, manufactured entirely in England and shipped to Bombay) presented the Lumière brothers' first films.<fnref n="4" /> Thus, the grand hotels accelerated the process by which contemporary foreign culture—mainly European and North American—was introduced to India.

The Taj Mahal Hotel, with its neo-historical national architecture – a blend of Gothic inspiration and the traditional style of the Mughal palaces of Rajasthan – is one of the most widely reproduced motifs on postcards of Mumbai. Its location, a few metres from the most representative monument of the capital of Maharashtra, the Gateway of India (a triumphal arch separating the city from the sea), has helped it to become a national and international icon. Another card in the collection shows a model of the Taj Mahal Hotel and its contemporary counterpart, the Taj Mahal Tower, a 22-storey reinforced concrete building designed by the American architect Melton Bekker and the Swiss designer Dale Keller and completed in 1972. Its verticality mirrors that of the hotel. However, while the latter ushered in a new era of luxury palaces run by the local elite, the Tower was a different kind of milestone because it initiated a trend for building high-rises on the waterfront. This was followed by the construction of buildings on Nariman Point (a few hundred metres from

<footnote n="2">2 Mehrotra, Rahul; Dwivedi, Sharada, *Bombay. The Cities Within*, Eminence, Mumbai, 1995; p. 210.</footnote>

<footnote n="3">3 Fernandes, Naresh, *Taj Mahal Foxtrot: The Story of Bombay's Jazz Age*, Mumbai, Roli Books, 2017.</footnote>

<footnote n="4">4 Préval de, Jitka, *Camille Legrand. Opérateur Pathé sur la Route des Indes*, Paris, Riveneuve, 2022.</footnote>
Apollo Bandar Boulevard, the site of the Taj Mahal), most notably the Air India building (1974, architect John Burgee) and the Trident Hotel (1973, architect P. G. Patki).

<figure><img src="image_47.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 41: New Delhi, Ashok Hotel (1956).</figcaption></figure>

Following India's Independence, Prime Minister Nehru commissioned the architect E. B. Doctor to design the Ashok Hotel in New Delhi for the purpose of accommodating the members of the 9th UNESCO conference (1956). This was a common occurrence in the history of large hotels in India: they were hotspots of international political life, places where Indian and Western leaders congregated to make momentous decisions. For example, in 1946, the Imperial Hotel in New Delhi (1936) hosted a meeting in which Nehru, Gandhi, and Mohammad Ali Jinnah negotiated the partition of India and the creation of the state of Pakistan. The table around which they sat is on display in the hotel.

The Sun'n'Sand (1962) is located in the north-western suburbs of Mumbai. It is representative both of the rise of mass tourism after 1945 and the growth of the greater Bombay suburbs. Located on the waterfront, within easy reach of the international airport, the hotel maintains, in a certain sense, the local tradition of temporary waterfront accommodation (of which the Bombay Sailor's Home [1869] was a prime example).
<figure><img src="image_48.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 42: Mumbai, The Sun'n'Sand Hotel in the 1960s.</figcaption></figure>

The sponsor of Mumbai's second 5-star hotel (the first being the Taj Mahal Hotel), the Indian entrepreneur Gul Advani, probably had in mind the idea of offering wealthy foreign travellers and the local elites (especially those from the affluent suburb of Bandra-West) a suitable place to relax by the sea and stage large wedding parties (which were, and are, a fundamental feature of Indian life).

The postcard showing the Oberoi Intercontinental in New Delhi (1973) is a testimony to the growth of the eponymous company (est. 1934). The first of Oberoi's many Indian hotels was the Kolkata, which was built on the site of an old theatre that burnt down in 1911, and the first building in Calcutta to be equipped with a hydraulic lift. Originally owned by an Armenian, the hotel was bought by Oberoi sometime in the 1930s. It became infamous when six people died in 1937 from typhoid fever, contracted via the hotel's pipes. The episode marked the sudden (literal) intrusion of India's unsanitary water drainage system into a space that was presented as cut off from the outside world, especially the everyday problems of Indian society. The hotel was rehabilitated and reopened in 1939 as a war hospital for British soldiers. (Many of the European and Indian hotels were requisitioned and put to various uses during the Second World War.)
<figure><img src="image_49.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 43: New Delhi, Oberoi Intercontinental Hotel.</figcaption></figure>

A brochure of the Oberoi Intercontinental distributed at its opening promised an unprecedented experience of technical modernity: “Planned with painstaking care and decorated luxuriously, the hotel is designed to provide the ultimate in comfort and entertainment. Eleven storeys high, the hotel commands one of the most breath-taking views of the capital city and overlooks the Delhi Golf course and Humayun's Tomb. Seven imaginatively planned restaurants offer food for every taste and budget in a cosmopolitan atmosphere so much a part of all Oberoi hotels. A modern health club and swimming-pool, a shopping centre and a great variety of entertainment facilities make Oberoi Intercontinental the outstanding new venue for all Delhi residents.”
**Foreign interests: from the New Delhi Imperial to the Bombay
Hilton (1936–1960s)**

India, which was occupied by several colonial powers at the beginning of the 20th century, did not completely free itself from foreign control after 1947. Economic globalization and the desire for conquest that it engenders are partly responsible. The grand hotels reflected this reality. Some of the buildings depicted on the postcards offer their visitors an interpretation of the nation's past and local heritage, and the boundaries between hotel space and museum space are deliberately blurred.

<figure><img src="image_50.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 44: New Delhi, Hotel Imperial (1936), Pre-Independence postcard.</figcaption></figure>

The Imperial Hotel (architect F. B. Blomfield), which opened its doors in 1936, is a melting pot of references to British culture and traditional colonialist imaginings of India. Although the publicity leaflets of the time promised the then-fashionable Art Deco style, this could be found only on the façade, which had the aspect of the larger New York hotels, especially the New Yorker (1929). In the numerous interior salons and courtyards, a neo-classical aesthetic inspired by ancient monuments was evident, with numerous colonnades and water basins decorated with Romanesque fountains. Far from breaking with the
surrounding city, the hotel was in keeping with the vision of Edwin Lutyens (1869–1944), New Delhi's chief architect.

<figure><img src="image_51.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 45: A 19th century hotel in old Delhi.<fnref n="5" /></figcaption></figure>

To this day, the Imperial offers its residents a journey across cultures; the “silver tea service, tableware from London, Italian marble floors, Burma teak furniture, original Daniels and Frasers on the walls, a vision of undulating green lawns, turbaned waiters in red, all create

<footnote n="5">⁵ On the reverse side of the card is handwritten (in German): "hotel according to a European model". Our research did not lead us to find this building, probably destroyed today. However, it is quite similar to some of the buildings in the central avenue of Chandni Chowk.</footnote>
the aura of an early 19th century English manor in the heart of Imperial
Delhi.<fnref n="6" />

It provides a superior experience than its rivals, with a private mu-
seum consisting of three art galleries, one dedicated to Indian landscape
painting, another based on the theme of "North Indians" (and whose rep-
resentations of the colonial era should be analysed), and a third compris-
ing paintings, lithographs, and watercolours from the 17th and 18th cen-
turies by British artists in India.

Other major hotel groups blurred the boundary between grand hotel
and museum in their bid to conquer the global tourism market, for
example, the Hilton Hotel in Cairo (1955). The architectural historian
Annabel Jane Wharton describes it thus in *Building the Cold War: Hilton
International Hotels and Modern Architecture*:

"The interior decoration maintained the pharaonic theme. The broad entrance lobby had reception on one side and a massive reproduction of a stone relief from the Egyptian Museum on the other: a colossal pharaoh hunting the wildlife of the Nile. In the guest rooms the brass lamp stands were inspired by the lotus and the draperies were hand-blocked with a stylized version of the same flowers [...] In the elite shops of the lobby mall, ancient artifacts and their reproductions were available for purchase, the ultimate form of touristic consumption."<fnref n="7" />

From India to Egypt, the 20th-century grand hotel was a space for the elaboration and dissemination of a discourse on a nation's culture and its past, a discourse dominated by foreign designers inspired by collections of looted objects. Conrad Hilton played a major role in defining the aesthetics of the international grand hotel after 1945 and in propagating an international style theorised as early as 1932 by American authors.

"The Istanbul Hilton [1955] was a heroically scaled white slab con-
structed of reinforced concrete, scaled by a regular grid of balconies

<footnote n="6">6 From: https://theimperialindia.com/imperial_history/ (12.01.2023).</footnote>

<footnote n="7">7 Wharton, Jane Annabel, *Building the Cold War: Hilton International Hotels and Modern Architecture*, Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 2004; p. 50.</footnote>
and lifted off the ground by slender white pilotis, or piers. Descriptions of the Istanbul Hilton tend to emphasize its similarities to the buildings of Le Corbusier. [...] The new Hilton was a monumental structure enshrined as an elite art object by its exceptional site. The hotel was prestigiously located, positioned at the edge of the wealthiest part of Istanbul, high above Galata. [...] The interior order of the Istanbul Hilton, analogous to its exterior, looked like a photograph from the handbook of American Modernism, Hitchcock, and Johnson's *The International Style*.<fnref n="8" />

Less well-known is the Hilton hotel project that was planned for Bombay in the early 1960s; it never went past the planning stage because the site lacked the most basic sanitation. In *Bombay imagined*, Robert Stephens describes the scene: “At first glance, the Worli Sea Face appeared to be the perfect location for Hilton's flagship hotel in Bombay. [...] More than 400 luxury rooms were organized in an elongated structure wrapped in a façade of sunshades; a feature Kadria would perfect a decade later while designing the Nehru Centre. A series of low-slung, open-air pavilions at the ground floor framed views of the Arabian Sea and were ideally suited for banquets, evening drinks, or a lazy day by the pool. Hilton's dream soon turned into a nightmare when visiting foreign executives discovered a dirty little secret: the waters of Worli were flushed with raw sewage. Visions of guests lying asphyxiated under seaside pavilions, the unsuspecting victims of Bombay's effluvia, likely provoked many sleepless nights, and the project was dumped soon thereafter.”<fnref n="9" />

The Indian grand hotels shared certain architectural (and historical) characteristics. For instance, they were all built in extraordinary locations (either by the sea or with an unobstructed view of one or more historical monuments) and they provided unique facilities (at least for India). Indeed, they endeavoured to give their guests such an experience that they would feel no desire (or need) to venture beyond. However,

<footnote n="8">8 *Ibid.*, p. 22.</footnote>

<footnote n="9">9 Stephens, Robert, *Bombay Imagined. An Illustrated History of the Unbuilt City*, Mumbai, Urbsindis, 2022; p. 234–35.</footnote>
albeit the hotels were cultural spaces with codes and regulations, they were also part of a tradition of similar institutions that began in the capitals of Europe (e.g., Lutetia in Paris, the Bauer in Berlin, and the Bristol in Bucharest) and its seaside resorts (e.g., the Gallia Palace in Cannes, the Hermitage in La Baule, the Riviera in Nice, and the Grand Hotel in Cabourg) and which experienced a boom during the Industrial Revolution. The fashion for grand hotels then spread throughout the world. The Pera district of Istanbul alone saw the construction of the Grand Hotel Kroecker, the Pera Palas Oteli, the Grand Hotel de Londres, and the Grand Hotel Novotny. In each of them, the foreign presence was very marked, not only amongst the guests but also the management.

<figure><img src="image_52.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 46: Mumbai, View of Marine Drive in the 1970s with the Trident Hotel on Narima Point in the background (1973).</figcaption></figure>

The postcards in question, which in some cases illustrate otherwise concealed spaces and reveal the photographers' predilection for indoor swimming pools, reflect a Western way of life far removed from that of the average Indian. They are also a testament to the post-1945 modernist standardisation of contemporary architectural forms, as exemplified by the master himself, Le Corbusier. Although there is no critical intent behind these images – their purpose is simply to advertise a product – they
are nonetheless an important archival source for the modern architec-
tural history of India and, more generally, the history of the 20th century.
As such, they merit further scholarly attention.

References

Denby, Elaine, *Grand Hotels: Reality and Illusion*, London, Reaktion Books, 2002.

Fernandez, Naresh, *Taj Mahal Fox Trot. The Story of Bombay's Jazz Age*, New Delhi, Roli Books, 2017.

Mehrotra, Rahul; Dwivedi, Sharada, *Bombay: The Cities Within*, Mumbai, Eminence, 2001.

Préval de, Jitka, *Camille Legrand. Un opérateur Pathé sur la route des Indes 1895-1920*, Paris, Riveneuve, 2021.

Robert, Stephens, *Bombay Imagined. An Illustrated History of the Unbuilt City*, Mumbai, Urbsindis, 2022

Warren, William, *Asia's Legendary Hotels. The Romance of travel*, Singapore, Periplus Editions, 2007.

Wharton, Annabel Jane, *Building the Cold War: Hilton International Hotels and Modern Architecture*, Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 2004.
# Image, recto, verso, context. Approaching Deltiology as a method

Ben Kaden

Postcards, as an early and very "viral" form of social media, captivate for many reasons.<fnref n="1" /> Their persistent appeal could stem from a peculiar configuration: an intendedly ephemeral short message medium,<fnref n="2" /> mass-produced for narrowly defined communicational purposes turns when used into a unique multimodal<fnref n="3" /> carrier of social traces, history, stories, i.e. social text. Not least, collecting postcards is an easy and wholesome hobby. In contrast, the research practice known as *delitology* achieved only scattered scholarly attraction so far.<fnref n="4" /> The term "deltiology", which some collectors considered to be rather snobbish, arguably traces back

<footnote n="1">1. Pyne, Lydia, *Postcards: The Rise and Fall of the World's First Social Network*, London, Reaktion Books, 2021.</footnote>

<footnote n="2">2. Gillen, Julia, "Writing Edwardian postcards", *Journal of Sociolinguistics*, 2013/17; p. 488–521. DOI: 10.1111/josl.12045.</footnote>

<footnote n="3">3. Gugganig, Mascha; Schor, Sophie, "Multimodal Ethnography in/of/as Postcards", *American Anthropologist*, 122/3, 2020; p. 691–697. DOI: 10.1111/aman.13435; Gillen, *op.cit.*; Kaden, Ben, "My Dear Mother" Multimodalität als Herausforderung bei der Auseinandersetzung mit Ansichtskarten, *retraceblog*, 01.11.2021, https://retraceblog.wordpress.com/2021/11/01/my-dea-r-mother-multimodalität-als-herausforderung-bei-der-auseinandersetzung-mit-ansichtskarten/ (02.03.2023); Pyne, *op.cit*.</footnote>

<footnote n="4">4. As of February, Google Scholar has just about 240 articles that somehow mention "deltiology". The somehow related field of "Philately" lists about 12600. However, "deltiology" itself is a niche term. There are more publications research somehow involving postcards.</footnote>
to a Randall Rhoades of Ashland, Ohio, and was proposed around 1930.<fnref n="5" /> The German equivalent is the undisputed, yet also not very common term *Philokartie*, and apparently rooted in the French special journal „Le Philocartiste“.<fnref n="6" /> Here, the semblance to philately is obvious. Often researchers seem to prefer “postcard research” instead of “deltiology”. Such in terminological indecision might further hint towards a lack of scholarly consolidation. Yet, it appears a number of studies try to push in this direction. At disciplinary margins, postcards seem to find niches across cultural,<fnref n="7" /> geographical,<fnref n="8" /> regional,<fnref n="9" /> historical,<fnref n="10" /> and media

<footnote n="5">5 Smaridge, Norah, “Would You Pay $150 for a Postcard?”, *New York Times*, May 16, 1976; p. 95.</footnote>

<footnote n="6">6 Formely known as *La Cartophilie Illustrée* the journal relaunched as *Le Philokartiste*. Moniteur des collectionneurs de cartes postales illustrées in August 1903. See: Carline, Richard, *Pictures in the Post*, London, Gordon Fraser, 1971; p. 124.</footnote>

<footnote n="7">7 Kaden, Ben, “Kinoarchitektur im Spiegel der DDR-Philokartie”, in: Plaul, Marcus; Haumann, Anna-Rosa; Kröger, Kathleen (eds.), *Kino in der DDR. Perspektiven auf ein alltagsgeschichtliches Phänomen*, Baden-Baden, Nomos, 2022; p. 51–88; Baldwin, Brooke, “On the Verso: Postcard Messages as a Key to Popular Prejudices”, *The Journal of Popular Culture* 22/3, 1988; p. 15–28. DOI: 10.1111/j.0022-3840.1988.2203.</footnote>

<footnote n="8">8 Arreola, Daniel D.; Burkhart, Nick, “Photographic Postcards and Visual Urban Landscape”, *Urban Geography*, 31/7, 2013; p. 885–904, DOI: 10.2747/0272-3638.31.7.885.</footnote>

<footnote n="9">9 For example, the cultural geographer Daniel D. Arreola published quite a number of books on the depiction of the Mexican American borderlands in vintage postcards. Arreola, Daniel D., *Postcards from the Baja California border portraying townscape and place, 1900s-1950s*, Tucson, University of Arizona Press, 2021; Ibid., *Postcards from the Río Bravo Border: Picturing the Place, Placing the Pictures*, Austin, University of Texas Press, 2021.</footnote>

<footnote n="10">10 Wilson, Kenneth, *Snapshots and short notes: images and messages of early twentieth-century photo postcards*, Denton, University of North Texas Press, 2020; Burns, Peter M., “Six postcards from Arabia: A visual discourse of colonial travels in the Orient”, *Tourist Studies*, 2004/3; p. 187–303. DOI: 10.1177/1468797604057327.</footnote>
studies,<fnref n="11" /> and ethnographic research<fnref n="12" /> or sometimes simply descriptive auto-ethnographic rediscoveries of their joys and potentials.<fnref n="13" /> Each of those attempts is worthwhile and interesting. Yet, the scattering over time and disciplines once more empirically underlines a marginality of postcard studies, which probably comes for a reason. At first glimpse, postcards appear just somehow overlooked, still easy to handle.

<figure><img src="image_53.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 47: Mumbai, in the 1960s. The words "Finlays Fabrics" and "Congress" emerge from this urban view and suggest the economic and political reality of Independent India.</figcaption></figure>

But when the actual handling starts, everything turns out to be more complicated than imagined. Or as Jan-Ola Östman puts it, postcards appear as a “paradoxical phenomenon, does not fit nicely into the tradi-

<footnote n="11">11 Östman, Jan-Ola, “The postcard as media”, *Text & Talk*, 2004/3; p. 423–442. DOI: 10.1515/text.2004.017; Cure, Monica, *Picturing the postcard: a new media crisis at the turn of the century*, Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press, 2018; Meikle, Jeffrey, *Postcard America: Curt Teich and the Imaging of a Nation, 1931–1950*, Austin, University of Texas Press, 2016.</footnote>

<footnote n="12">12 Gugganig; Schor, op.cit.</footnote>

<footnote n="13">13 Pyne, op.cit.</footnote>
tional categories that scholars have devised as tools to get a better handle on social phenomena.”<fnref n="14" />

They are, as Mascha Gugganig and Sophie Schor write, “an open system, with its various material and discursive dimensions.” Yet, “[p]laying with these dimensions bears much potential for creating new methodical approaches, and potentially new genres.” Which is exactly what I will exemplify in this article.

## Postcards and visual urban research

I choose the research angle of visual urban research as it is probably the most prone field for sourcing postcards as material. To state the obvious:” Postcard imagery holds great promise as a resource for urban researchers.”<fnref n="15" /> When it comes to reaching a broader audience the depiction, perception, and visual interpretation of urban space has a lot of charm, as, for instance, three volumes by Ulrich Brinkmann alone exemplify.<fnref n="16" /> Other examples showcase particular collections.<fnref n="17" /> In many

<footnote n="14">14 Östman, op.cit.; p. 437.</footnote>

<footnote n="15">15 Arreola; Burkhart; op.cit. The field of tourism might appear equally relatable to postcard studies. See: Modlin, Arnold E., “A market or “a relic of barbarism?” Toward a more inclusive analysis of social memory on postcards”, in: Hanna, Stephen P; Potter, Amy E.; et al. (eds.), *Social Memory and Heritage Tourism Methodologies*, London, Routledge, 2015; p. 170–188; Milman, Ady, “Postcards as representation of a destination image: The case of Berlin”, *Journal of Vacation Marketing*, 2011/2; p. 157–170. DOI: 10.1177/1356766711435975.</footnote>

<footnote n="16">16 Brinkmann, Ulrich, *Achtung vor dem Blumenkübel! Die Fußgängerzonen als Element des Städtebaus: Ansichtspostkarten in Ost- und Westdeutschland 1949 bis 1989*, Berlin, DOM, 2020; Ibid., *Matera moderna: Postkarten aus der Zeit des italienischen Wirtschaftswunders*, Berlin, DOM, 2022; Ibid., *Vorsicht auf dem Wendehammer! Die Straße als Element des Städtebaus: Ansichtspostkarten in der DDR und Bundesrepublik 1949 bis 1989*, Berlin, DOM, 2023.</footnote>

<footnote n="17">17 Kramer, Thomas, *New York auf Postkarten. Die Sammlung Andreas Adam*, Zürich, Scheidegger & Spiess, 2010; Wagener, Wolfgang; Erganian, Leslie, NEW WEST, Munich, Hirmer, 2019.</footnote>
cases, though not all, locality marks the collection's focus. Thus, display-
ing particular places all through the yesteryears using postcards can be
potentially presented in countless iterations.<fnref n="18" /> An interesting variation
of the genre comes from the sociologist Renaud Epstein,<fnref n="19" /> who spe-
cializes in cards depicting so-called "Zones à urbaniser en priorité"<fnref n="20" />
and managed to build a large followership at his dedicated "Un jour,
une ZUP, une carte postale"-Twitter-channel.<fnref n="21" /> The appeal, undeniably,
works. A rare, early, and more deltiological approach stems from the
architect Alvin Boyarsky, whose "Chicago à la Carte" was published as
a "florilegium" in a reader compiled in his memory.<fnref n="22" /> His son Nicholas
Boyarsky endeavored to extend his father's 1970s ideas towards a "delti-
ology of practice."<fnref n="23" /> in order to use the medium to deliberate about built
environments.<fnref n="24" />

Most of the books include essays or short texts to contextualize the
material and elaborate on postcards and postcard history. Many state a
perceived general disregard towards the potentials of the medium and
accordingly mirror the introduction notes of many scholarly papers,
once again, rediscovering the medium. Alas, few of these texts propose
systematic insights into a methodology of postcard research. It seems

<footnote n="18">18 Schröter, Erasmus, *Bild der Heimat. Die Echt-Foto-Postkarten aus der DDR*, Berlin, Schwarzkopf und Schwarzkopf, 2002; Długosz, Mikolaj, *Latem w mieście: Summer in the city, Warszawa, Fundacja Nowej Kultury Bęc Zmiana, 2016; Schlatter, Beat, *Postcards*, Basel, Christoph Merian Verlag, 2020; Thomson, David, *Dry House*, London, Mörel, 2022.</footnote>

<footnote n="19">19 Epstein, Renaud, *On est bien arrivés: un tour de France des grands ensembles*, Paris, Le Nouvel Attila, 2022.</footnote>

<footnote n="20">20 Bancilhon, Philippe; Monnier, Gérard, *Les années ZUP. Architectures de la croissance: 1960-1973*, Paris, Picard, 2002.</footnote>

<footnote n="21">21 URL: https://twitter.com/renaud_epstein.</footnote>

<footnote n="22">22 Boyarsky, Nicholas, *Serious Play. A Deltiology of Practice*, Melbourne, RMIT University, 2016. https://researchrepository.rmit.edu.au/esploro/outputs/doctoral/Serious-play-A-deltiology-of-practice/9921863895001341.</footnote>

<footnote n="23">23 *Ibid*.</footnote>

<footnote n="24">24 Boyarsky, Nicholas, “The Ephemeral Imagination. The Postcard and Construction of Urban Memory”, *CANDIDE*, 2021/12; p. 73–85.</footnote>
safe to say, that a methodological examination of an integrated deltiological method for architectural and urban studies so far remains largely cursory. Even where a certain wish to go deeper is stated, postcard images are mostly used to source images and to illustrate. Sometimes they are utilized as scholarly proof. Only rarely they are considered as a medium with singular qualities beyond a specific use case. Except, of course, the studies focus deeper on postcards themselves.<fnref n="25" /> Does this matter? In many cases, I'm inclined to say, it does not. An interesting study such as the one presented by Sangeeta and Ratnesh Mathur with their comprehensive and deeply researched presentation of Indian postcards before 1947,<fnref n="26" /> probably wouldn't gain anything in an additional reflection about a deltiological methodology.

<figure><img src="image_54.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 48: Mumbai. This rare representation of the Esso building (now Petrol House) shows a projection of the building completed in 1956. The collage technique evokes the practices of the interwar European avant-gardes.</figcaption></figure>

<footnote n="25">25 Meikle, Jeffrey, *Postcard America*, op.cit.</footnote>

<footnote n="26">26 Mathur, Sangeeta; Mathur, Ratnesh, *Picturesque India: A Journey in Early Picture Postcards* (1896–1947), New Delhi, Niyhogi Books, 2018.</footnote>
The impressive volume basically tells the story of India's modern-
ization and industrialization while compiling a trove of information re-
garding the postcard production history of India. It does what it does
and is in itself a seminal work both, for the postcard history of India and
the history of postcards in India. Still, for my text, I want to take a dif-
ferent route.

Collecting images

Image programs and pictorial languages of picture postcards are ex-
tremely varied and in this a blessing and a curse. Postcard imagery
documents phenomena relevant to social or cultural history in aston-
ishing ramifications and breadth of motifs. There is hardly anything
depictable that wasn't depicted on a postcard. Postcard images are
"snippets that offer a cultural history that can't be found through other
media and material culture."<fnref n="27" /> But at the same instant they are almost
impossible to overview in total. There is no comprehensive catalog
for picture postcards and even the highly specified topical lists some
collectors for certain topics are usually riddled with omissions. While
extensive lists index about every type and variation of postage stamp
that ever circulated, and even those that did not, no equivalent for post-
cards exists. Every postcard publicly indexed is one that more or less as
fortuitously as by chance landed in an inventory of a collector willing to
do so.<fnref n="28" />

Pictures on postcards were in demand as collector's items from the
start and accordingly discussed and admired in clubs and magazines.<fnref n="29" />
They sold well, so many publishers and even individuals put out enor-

<footnote n="27">27 Pyne; *op.cit*.</footnote>

<footnote n="28">28 Judging by the online index collect there are suprisingly few collectors who actually are, at least publicly. https://colnect.com/de/postcards.</footnote>

<footnote n="29">29 Cure, op.cit.; especially p. 157ff.; Carline, op.cit.; p. 63–72.</footnote>
mous numbers and variations.<fnref n="30" /> Ubiquitous availability, low barriers to entry, comparatively little space, and the infinite variety of motifs and thus starting points for thematic collections popularized collecting post-cards as a hobby.<fnref n="31" /> In addition, growing into diachronic testimonies of certain views and places over time,<fnref n="32" /> postcards function perfectly as low-threshold tokens for nostalgia.<fnref n="33" /> Knowing they were produced and handled in specific past timeframes gives them a particular aura. A post-card depicting a place in a certain moment often means, that the object at hand once actually might have been present at this place and around this time. Legible postmarks count as definite proof. In this regard, post-cards are tangible time capsules. Postcards with urban and architectural motifs dominate throughout and in typological specificity,<fnref n="34" /> but are particularly common, where places, spaces, and buildings were considered a special feature of the locality, i.e. usually new and/or more representative buildings. With the early 20th century's postcard boom, the need for broad marketing and therefore broad geographical coverage arose.<fnref n="35" /> Often, the particular representative entity of a place, as in many cases came down to the church, market, court, post office, library, or simply a generic view down the main street. Messages were also diverse, yet often limited in expression by the constraints of mediality and social convention.<fnref n="36" /> In earlier days, writing postcards was somehow controversial and innovative, particularly because of the quasi-public character of the medium.<fnref n="37" /> For different and understandable reasons most collectors

<footnote n="30">30 See for instance on the "Postcard Mania" starting in the USA around 1898.
Meikle, op.cit.; p. 14–16.</footnote>

<footnote n="31">31 Kearns, Seamus, "Collecting Picture Postcards", *Dublin Historical Record*, 2001/2; p. 139–144.</footnote>

<footnote n="32">32 Arreola; Burkhart; op.cit.</footnote>

<footnote n="33">33 Martinovic, Dimitrije, *The Skin of Nostalgia: A Reflection on the Artifice of Postcards, Structuralist Filmmaking, and Home Movies*, Toronto, York University, 2014. http://hdl.handle.net/10315/30249.</footnote>

<footnote n="34">34 For example: Kaden, 2022; op.cit.</footnote>

<footnote n="35">35 Meikle; op.cit.</footnote>

<footnote n="36">36 Cure, op.cit.</footnote>

<footnote n="37">37 *Ibid*.; Östman (op.cit.) also describes a "public-private gradience".</footnote>
did and do not emphasize collecting by the message. Reading the com-
munication of strangers feels intrusive and offers from a collector's per-
spective, little value. It is also difficult to mold an interesting angle for a
topical collection and any public display would feel more offensive than
impressive. Images prevail with the exception of persons that tap into
postal history for stamps and postmarks. Understandably, many collec-
tors exclusively prioritized the motif.

<figure><img src="image_55.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 49: Mumbai's Marine Drive waterfront boulevard is one of the most reproduced postcard motifs of India. Comparing the views allows us to see the changes in the urban landscape from the 1940s to the present day.</figcaption></figure>

Researching images (and messages)

As for research, there are also hints of deltiology as a form of hobbyist
research, now called citizen science. A 1975 article in the New York Times
quotes a collector named Dorothy Bloodgood as emphasizing: “Collect-
ing postcards is a study of history and geography”.<fnref n="38" /> Unlike philately,
it was only able to establish itself to a limited extent during the 20th

<footnote n="38">38 Jailer, Mildred, "Yesterday's Postcards Are Today's New Treasures", *New York Times*, Nov. 23, 1975; p. 82.</footnote>
century. To this day, it is regularly rediscovered and more than less as a curiosity.<fnref n="39" /> This partly resonates with Östman's assessments of “postcard[s] as a marginal, marginalized, and marginalizable phenomenon in society at large” that “looked down upon, frowned upon, and talked about pejoratively ”,<fnref n="40" /> though personally, I wouldn't agree completely. Often, I experience quite the opposite. Then again, nowadays the postcard's role might be so diminished, that we are already past any point of judgment and most people do not care at all, while those who do, differentiate more.

While topological postcards are of obvious relevancy for visual ur-
ban studies, messages can be too.<fnref n="41" /> Of course, the field's deltiologists
covet a certain type of message, i.e. scribbled perceptions of places. How-
ever, while such notes are not exactly rare, they are seldom detailed. In
fact, it is very challenging to compile a workable corpus for an analysis
that goes beyond anecdotal musings with the length of a tweet. Gener-
ally, postcards are very easy to collect. At least up to a certain moment in
postal history, they accumulated almost inevitably on shelves or fridges.
Some specimens are harder to find, but if one is not too picky, the nature
of a batch product leaves enough copies out there to amass an exhaus-
tive collection very fast with comparably low investment. Vendors de-
scribe postcards based on the imprinted descriptions; hence it is easy to
search (online) for particular places or motifs. It becomes more difficult,
though, if one is looking for a specific style, photographer, or year since
that information is often lacking. It gets impossible in regard to mes-
sages. Any of those entered my collection purely by coincidence. Any in-
dexing, order, and selection by messages start subsequently after acqui-

<footnote n="39">39 Smaridge, *op.cit.*; Correal, Annie, *The Postcard People Carry On*, New York Times, Jan. 27, 2018, Section MB; p. 1. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/01/26/nyregio n/postcard-people.html; Evelyn, Freja, "A collector was 'bitten by the postcard bug' 80 years ago; see some of his favorites", *The Picture Show: PHOTO STORIES FROM NPR*. Jan. 9, 2023. https://www.npr.org/sections/pictureshow/2023/01/0 9/1133372930/postcard-collector-donald-brown-amassed-hundreds-of-thousa nds-over-eight-decades.</footnote>

<footnote n="40">40 Östman; *op.cit*.</footnote>

<footnote n="41">41 Boyarski; *op.cit*.</footnote>
sition and can only draw from the given material. Thus, there are plenty
of misses and significantly fewer hits in looking for interesting text-im-
age-relations. But from time to time there are. Nicholas Boyarsky pro-
vides some examples.<fnref n="42" /> I will do too below.

Postcards as social media

Whenever there is a message on a picture postcard, two things emerge. First, relations between image and text. An image is either referenced or it is not. Both states are relational. Second, there are social traces. In terms of the unique features of picture postcards, neither the image nor the message alone suffices. Being fixed to the same material object in a literal double-sidedness is the crucial quality as well as the intentional mailability of picture postcards. Thus, this is what any deltiological method will center around.

Social (texts)

The *social* is as inherent to any form of deltiological study. Other than
letters, which split into notepaper and envelope, posted postcards al-
ways come with their message and most of the times a variety of pro-
cessing marks attached. Hence, they can be read as social as well as tech-
nical. For our cause, the technical turns out to be advantageous. Due
to the requirement of being mailable, recto and verso of postcards are
mostly standardized and provide a fixed frame for any variability. Ob-
ject-wise, those standards make postcards easy to use, collect, handle,
store, digitize, and possibly engage with. Even when leaving any mes-
sage related narrative out, a postcard is already a social object. It is in-
tended to be seen, bought, used, and received by a person. A mailed post-
card is inevitably a social and extremely personal artifact: "Sending the

<footnote n="42">42 *Ibid*.</footnote>
postcard is about representing yourself in a particular social and geo-
graphic space.”<sup>43</sup> Given the inherently social, the deltiological method
would aim to define, extract, compare, and analyze those social quali-
ties of a postcard. Alternatively, one could speak of *reading* the different
layers as social text. As with all professional reading and even more with
the usual limitations on background information regarding the persons
originally involved, reading means contextualizing: How does what I get
from a card, relate to something else and what does it mean, or what
can I deduct from it? Thus, a postcard’s different peculiarities—image,
imprints, publisher information, dates, message narrative, addressing,
writtenness,<sup>44</sup> postal marks, possibly material blemishes and damages,
annotations, collecting specific property markings—can be used as an-
alytical points for reference.

Contexts

To read postcards scholarly, those particularities would need to be set
in relation to the larger contexts. Since those are extensive, deltiology
connects to a wide range of research topics, as the many though scat-
tered attempts in different fields emphasize. Differentiating the specific
technical, mediological, visual, and social qualities of picture post-
cards allows for determining certain analyzable basic features as well
as additional technical, economical, and social context settings of the
medium.<fnref n="45" /> Such a deltiological baseline makes postcards approachable
in a more structured and systematic way, as there are now reliable refer-
ence features. For instance, drawing from well-defined basic properties
of pictures on postcards a comparative picture analysis of postcard
photography could provide insights into different, socially shaped ways
of seeing and depicting. And it would allow the question of whether

<footnote n="43">43 Jason, Farman quoted in: Pyne, *op.cit.*; p. 38.</footnote>

<footnote n="44">44 Gillen; *op.cit*.</footnote>

<footnote n="45">45 Prochaska, David, “Thinking Postcards”, *Visual Resources: An International Journal of Documentation*, 2011; p. 383–99, DOI: 10.1080/01973762.2001.9658604.</footnote>
there was (and is) a specific form of “postcard photography”.<fnref n="46" /> Hence, I suggest distinguishing *material qualities* and *contextual qualities* which both constitute picture postcards as research objects. A deltiological method, or in the end maybe just *deltiology*, would engage with identifying, understanding, describing, and refining those categories in order to link them to topical research questions, which do not necessarily have to center picture postcards. From a sociological or linguistical perspective, one could for instance compare messaging patterns of different forms of written personal communication to those extracted from postcards.<fnref n="47" /> From a visual urban research perspective, comparing how particular buildings are depicted diachronically could pose a crucial research question.<fnref n="48" /> In short: given fixed points of reference, postcards, especially used ones, bear a rich potential for research. They are both image and communication archives. Nevertheless, there are drawbacks: diversity in motifs and specimens and sheer quantity make a definite assessment of the potential difficult if not impossible. Even worse, any used postcard is an exclusive object. Studying postcards almost always turns into a lesson in contingency. Fortunately, as I will describe below, digitization might come to rescue.

**Applied deltiological city scaping: every building on the Karl-Marx-Allee**

For text-image relations on postcards, there are two possibilities: an explicit relation exists. Or it doesn't. If there is one, for visual urban research, a strong and elaborately written connection to the image is cov-

<footnote n="46">46 See for instance: Nicholas Boyarsky's study of Walker Evans' photography in relation to postcards. Boyarski, op.cit. Walker Evans was in fact himself an avid postcard collector; see: Rosenheim, Jeff, *Walker Evans and the picture postcard*, Göttingen, Steidl, 2009. There is also a whole chapter on "Researching Postcard Photographers" in: Bogdan, Robert; Weseloh, Todd, *Real Photo Postcard Guide: The People's Photograpy*, New York, Syracuse University Press, 2006; p. 195–20.</footnote>

<footnote n="47">47 Gillen; op.cit.</footnote>

<footnote n="48">48 Arreola, Burkhart; op.cit.</footnote>
eted. In real life, it is surprisingly rare. Many relational statements are
simple, and often more tacit than not: *This is where I am right now*. Yet,
there are intriguing pieces. Reading those, potentials for deeper anal-
ysis becomes evident. In a presentation called, with a nod to artist Ed
Ruscha, “Every Building in the Karl-Marx-Allee” I spoke on deltiology as a
form of “visual urban research”.<fnref n="49" /> I argued that postcards are visual me-
dia AND memory media AND media objects at the same time, in fact
with the same object. Such a triplet of states allows a threefold and of-
ten interwoven reading. First, a postcard can be read visually, including
the whole methodological scope of Bildwissenschaft,<fnref n="50" /> visual studies,
and even art history. Picture postcard photography conceptionally os-
cillates between vernacular, documentary, and sometimes even artistic
photography, making it an apt research object for photography theories
between, well, Barthes<fnref n="51" /> and Bourdieu.<fnref n="52" />

Reading the image

Collected according to certain criteria for instance a single street, post-cards can serve as a diachronic research corpus on the presentation and perception of architecture, urban space, and the experience of place over time. For “Every Building on the Karl-Marx-Allee” I attempted to assemble a line-up of postcards depicting every newly built edifice of Berlin’s grand socialist boulevard. Karl-Marx-Allee was constructed starting in the early 1950s in two construction phases each characterized by a specific socialist style of architectural aesthetics: the so-called National Tradition and the Ostmoderne.

<footnote n="49">49 Kaden, Ben, “Every Building on the Karl-Marx-Allee. Ansichtskarten als Quellen zur Architekturgeschichte der DDR”, Berlin, Digitaler Dialog “Auf dem Weg zum Welterbe”, Sep. 9, 2021.</footnote>

<footnote n="50">50 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bildwissenschaft (02.03.2023).</footnote>

<footnote n="51">51 Barthes, Roland, *Camera lucida. Reflections on photography* (1980), New York, Hill and Wang, 2010.</footnote>

<footnote n="52">52 Boltanski, Luc; Bourdieu, Pierre; Castel, Robert, *Eine illegitime Kunst: die sozialen Gebrauchsweisen der Fotografie*, Hamburg, Europäische Verlagsanstalt, 2014.</footnote>
<figure><img src="image_56.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 50: Picture postcard, circa 1955 Berlin Stalinallee Liz.-Nr. A 110/55.</figcaption></figure>

Ironically and not as planned, two rather pedestrian prefab blocks appeared later. Therefore, the street pretty much summarizes the architectural history of the GDR from the 1950s to the late 1970s. Given a name change after ten years from Stalinallee to Karl-Marx-Allee, it also onomastically opens up a door to the drifts and struggles of the place-related commemorative culture of the GDR. To this day, the boulevard, as shown on the postcard, succeeds in being impressive in its narrative. Even if one does not know any details, the impetus of representation is obvious. The space is wide open, the buildings shine, and are well proportioned. Greenery gives a placid atmosphere, mirrored in the strolls of the passers-by. Unexpected for such a metropolitan setting, no car traffic is in sight.

The mid-1950s card depicts the so-called Block-C with the penthouse the architect, Richard Paulick, designed for himself in the upper left corner.<fnref n="53" /> The block was finished just a few years before and was one of the most ambitious and showy living quarters in East Berlin of the

<footnote n="53">53 Barz, Andreas; Dolff-Bonekämper, Gabi, "Das Haus auf dem Haus", in: Flierl, Thomas (ed.), *Bauhaus, Shanghai, Stalinallee, Ha-Neu: der Lebensweg des Architekten Richard Paulick 1903–1979*, Berlin, Lukas Verlag, 2020.</footnote>
time. Tenants were either rewarded for outstanding achievements or luckily winning a raffle. The perspective leads eastbound down to the still-under-construction left tower of Frankfurter Tor, a major ensemble of GDR architecture designed by Hermann Henselmann and alluding to the churches at Berlin's historically central square Gendarmenmarkt, at the same time already expressing slight changes in the architectural idiom compared to the earlier planning. The prominent streetlamps were designed specifically for the street, also by Richard Paulick.<fnref n="54" />

<figure><img src="image_57.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 51: Embassy of BRD in New Delhi (1962), whose construction (1954–62) began at the same time as the Stalinallee in East Berlin was being built.</figcaption></figure>

The street space visible cuts out the traffic and reminds us, how the boulevard actually has the width of two large streets combined. The image thus shows and condenses the architectural state of the GDR in the 1950s into a thick, yet easily decipherable pictorial text.

<footnote n="54">54 Oberpichler, Anja W., *Die Straßenbeleuchtung am Strausberger Platz und im II. Bauabschnitt der Karl-Marx-Allee zwischen Strausberger Platz und Alexanderplatz, Berlin, Senatsverwaltung für Stadtentwicklung und Umwelt, 2014.*</footnote>
Reading the message

<figure><img src="image_58.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 52: Reverse side of the Stalinallee postcard (Fig. 50).</figcaption></figure>

Turning the card even further charges the object with history. We are missing the backstory, but we still find a lot of information in the handwritten message on the back of the used but not mailed postcard. It reads like a descriptive memo, possibly for later presentation, and is arguably written by an American visitor, who could freely explore the eastern part of Berlin following the Four Power Agreement. From the sound of the message, however, it seems to be a recollection of facts provided during an official tour. The person notes almost as if adding an elaborate caption: "A row of New apartments on the Stalinallee. We went [into] three of them. They are extremely roomy and we would call them 4 Room apts but here they call them 2 Room apts, They rent to outstanding workers & their families [...]" Data and place are added: 8th of October 1955 in East Berlin. The date itself is significant, as October 7th was a national holiday to celebrate, in this case, the sixth anniversary of the GDR. In fact, the local Berliner Zeitung published an article on this day, that appears
the card was sold online by a vendor in the USA. Hence, at least it is ver-
ifiable that the card made it from Berlin to the USA.

But: not every message on the Karl-Marx-Allee
(collecting contingency)

While it turns out to be surprisingly easy to visually reconceptualize
both sides of an urban boulevard using picture postcards, the example
might be a double exception. Firstly, not every street or place was doc-
umented that extensive, so the approach fits best for the showcases of
urbanism or tourist hotspots. Secondly, as described, the specificity of
postcards not solely lies in the image.<fnref n="58" /> Yet, it is about potentially using
the card for communication. As said above, messages expressively ref-
erencing the image are comparably infrequent. But that's not all. Most
of those are also undiscoverable and inaccessible, hidden in private
collections or overlooked in storage. No one else can own this particular
specimen, neatly tucked away in my private black box labelled "Berlin-
Friedrichshain". When compiling corpora using customary channels
of acquisitions, vendors, online retailers, flea markets, in regard to
messages one has to still rely on chance findings. As postcards were
intendedly short-lived and in fact often vanished, one mostly has to
deal with a motley stack of more or less accidental survivors, dispersed
even further by collectors picking and leaving certain cards. Hence,
corpora will necessarily remain fragmentary. While online shops index
by motif, messages are almost never seen as something of interest. And
even if they were, there are no agreements on how to index. Empirically,
even in plentiful collections, many messages may turn out to be rather
redundant birthday wishes and holiday greetings with an odd gem here
or there. Since postcards are necessarily semi-public,<fnref n="59" /> most people
stuck to letters for their more personal and elaborate correspondence.

<footnote n="58">58 Though there can be something as specific research on photography for post-cards, see for instance Bogdan; Weseloh; op.cit.</footnote>

<footnote n="59">59 Östman; op.cit.</footnote>
However, “all messages have the potential to provide insight into how the cards were used and about the people who used them.”<fnref n="60" /> But extracting and contextualizing such insights, however, remains challenging, as even detailed and intriguing texts often lack sufficient context information to draw substantive conclusions. In many cases, there is a lot of guesswork involved. Therefore, the short messages somehow mirror properties of the images: They are curt starting points for contextualization, fragments, and snippets of the actual settings. This is not necessarily a bad thing. But it demands a different epistemological approach, one that is accepting and managing this kind of incompleteness and contingency. Yet, the question remains: how to operationalize a deltiological method?

## Image, message, object-reading is fundamental

Above, I suggested a kind of semiotic approach based on three paths of reading: the image, the message, and the object. In short, to read the image means to analyze the picture, its object, style, composition, technique, and anything that is shown and how it is depicted. Particular details can be inventoried, described, and analyzed separately. Context can be added. For presentations, I often magnify sections of interest.<fnref n="61" /> Reading the message, therefore, focuses on the content of the message and its contextualization. It means analyzing any object-related properties and, if possible, contexts as well. However, scholarly reading always needs a lens, usually cut by particular research interests. In a very original and specific paper Nicholas Boyarski, for instance, accesses the role of picture postcards in regard to the “construction of urban memory.”<fnref n="62" /> He identifies underlying “themes and questions”

<footnote n="60">60 Bogdan; Weseloh; *op.cit*.</footnote>

<footnote n="61">61 For an example see: https://benkaden.tumblr.com/post/706148230587645952/ansichtskarte-berlin-stalinallee-t-89058-rnr (02.03.2023).</footnote>

<footnote n="62">62 Boyarski; *op.cit*.</footnote>
regarding “collecting and reading of the postcard”, all of which refer to discourses<fnref n="63" />:

1. “the discourses between the individual and the city”

2. “[the discourses] between the formal and the informal”

3. “[the discourses] between the sedentary and the nomadic”

4. “[the discourses] between urbanism and micro-urbanism”.

Östman also pointed out the potentiality and the challenges of postcards for discourse analysis itself.<fnref n="64" /> While postcards appear very promising at first, they are actually hard to operationalize. In fact, they turn out being difficult to categorize and to address with the established scholarly “tools of analysis”. Defining particular topical categories, as Boyarski did, appears at least to be a basic step, while of course leaving the problem of contingency. Now, in terms of conceptualizing multimodality, another variable could be introduced to integrate the social dimension even further. As the proposed deltiological method tends to be a semiotic examination aimed to uncover the form, semantics, and maybe intentions related to postcards, one could argue within this constellation image captions and addresses fulfill a somewhat similar role. While captions refer to what is depicted, any address refers to a person involved. Even when on postcards sender’s addresses are uncommon, receiver’s addresses are in most cases present and can reveal much information, especially when analyzed in relation to the message. With a corpus large enough, there could be a chance for modeling social networks down to an interpersonal level using this data.<fnref n="65" />

<footnote n="63">63 *Ibid*.; p. 85.</footnote>

<footnote n="64">64 Östman, *op.cit*.; p. 438.</footnote>

<footnote n="65">65 Privacy rules, of course, apply.</footnote>
## Legal limitations

Obviously, privacy law and research ethics raise important issues that limit such an approach and need to be cleared first. But to begin with, for instance, place-to-place analysis and the nature and changes in mail traffic could be already addressed. For images, copyright can be equally complicated. Images are copyrightable works. At the same time, empirically today most vintage postcards would count under orphan works.<fnref n="66" /> Therefore, copyright clearance in itself would in many cases come down already to deltiological research. Some legal regimes provide different exceptions for research such as fair use, or fair dealing, but to varying degrees, thus complicating things even further. This also affects any expectations towards mass digitization and datafication for building relevant corpora and opening them up for scholarly or even public use. If in doubt, the motto in research might be: tell, don't show. Yet, it does not apply to the body of public domain postcards. As with many source materials for digital research, we probably need to accept a moving time wall and start with the very vintages.

## Digitization (Postcards as digital research material)

As used postcards are unique by nature, in pre-digital times building an encroaching corpus seemed nearly impossible. Contingency dominated. Findability was an issue. Image-based collection building was less complicated since there were copies available. For message analysis there is no way around going big data, i.e. amassing a preferably large corpus in order to then narrow it down again to a sample of relevant specimens. In digital research environments, postcard research might be reshuffled. Picture postcards can be mass digitized and indexed and turned into structured data sets representing collections accessible. searchable, and reusable. Of course, any digitized postcard becomes its own separate object and any tactile information must be coded as a quality of the

<footnote n="66">66 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orphan_work (02.03.2023).</footnote>
respective data object too. Data modeling in general is not exactly triv-
ial, though the tangible constraints of the medium can be utilized for
these steps very well. Modeling multimodality, i.e. the different levels of
relationships embedded in the original as well as the new modes result-
ing from digital specifics is a different story. The same goes for linking
data elements across all objects contained in a corpus. Suddenly, deltiol-
ogy enters the sphere of big data analytics and digital humanities. One
simple yet convincing presentation is provided by the Austrian National
Library. A project called AKON<fnref n="67" /> explores ways of presenting the 75.000
topographical picture postcards in the library's holdings.<fnref n="68" /> The available
solution uses georeferences to map the respective cards onto a zoomable
world map.<fnref n="69" /> Unfortunately, additional non-topographical information
is only sparsely indexed. Nevertheless, AKON already demonstrates the
potential of digital deltiology. Given a yet-to-be-developed standardized
deltiological metadata scheme, one can easily imagine the value of inte-
grating several collections in such a presentation, enabling multilayered
explorability. Of course, we are still talking about the images and some
formal properties such as publisher or year of production. But this again
would prepare a starting point for further steps of integrating the more
social properties of picture postcards as well. To go even further and con-
nect with current trends, features to encode and annotate the various
written, pictorial, and social texts can be included. If open for citizen re-
search, it would neatly loop back to deltiology as a field of passionate en-
gagement for nearly anyone, just as it was at the height of the “postcard
mania”.

<footnote n="67">67 "Ansichtskarten online"; https://akon.onb.ac.at/ (02.03.2023).</footnote>

<footnote n="68">68 Müller, Christa; Mokre, Jan; Hintersonnleitner, Michael, "AKON – Ansichtskarten online", in: *Bibliothek – Forschung und Praxis*, 2017/42; DOI: 10.1515/bfp-2017-0031.</footnote>

<footnote n="69">69 https://akon.onb.ac.at/#center=eurypzpgxczb&zoom=3 (02.03.2023).</footnote>
Summary

So if there was something such as a deltiological method, what could it
be like?

Following my previous remarks, I propose a three-tier outline:

1. a bare-bone frame that defines the unique qualities of the medium postcard (and hence makes a method deltiological).

2. a set of applications that stem from a particular angle or research question and link those to the specifics of postcards.

3. topical analysis that necessarily breaches into other fields and is hence per se interdisciplinary.

Any of these can be broken down into separate elements, that can be
read semiotically and contextualized. Given the specifics of a postcard,
reading embraces the image, the message, and the object as an object.
Since such a reading needs a defined scope in order to lead somewhere,
a particular field of research provides the definition. Visual urban re-
search is only one example. Myriads of other topical scopes are imagin-
able, too. In fact, as postcards probably depict every topical phenomenon
from celebrities to war photography, they can be image-wise utilized for
every thinkable topic. Message analysis might be more constrained given
the limitations of the medium. Yet, there is a huge variety of forms of ex-
pression as well. There are not only waves of popularity of the medium
but also shifts in usage patterns. Any deltiological research should con-
textualize those, too. The challenge remains to identify or built a con-
clusive corpus of material and develop research tools to explore it. In
most cases, research will follow an already existing collection. In a per-
fect world, the collection would be digitized and datafied following open
research standards to link it to other collections. While any postcard it-
self is a unique object, making postcards available and reusable in suit-
able cultural data infrastructures could update this mediological revo-
lution of the 19th century into the 21st. And, not least, it could rekindle
postcard passions and inspire new forms of re-materialization, too.
Coda: Happy New Year 1966

<figure><img src="image_59.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 53/54: Left: National Physical Laboratory, New Delhi (1956). Produced by the Advertising Branch, Ministry of I. & B.Govt. of India and issued by the Tourist Traffic Branch Ministry of Transport, Printed in India by the Times of India Press, Bombay. Right: Reverse side of the National Physical Laboratory postcard (Fig. 53).</figcaption></figure>

Looking at this postcard, there is at the same time vast and very little information. This paradoxical occurrence is not rare when it comes to cultural artifacts. As we have seen, the standardization of the medium helps extract a defined set of data from any given card. We have precisely one image and one message. Alas, in this case, we are again missing postal data. Though we get a sender's address, sadly this one is rather difficult to decipher. Personal communication comes with the idiosyncratic patterns of handwriting, an obstacle for OCR, and an ambivalence from the stance of deltiological ethics: Illegibility protects privacy. This postcard was never intended to persist for 60+ years and to serve as data for digitally mediated research. It is always a tense issue of how deep one might intrude into the usually personal communication. One may argue, postcards are not letters, hence by default open to read and people used them accordingly. Still, one comes across messages of endearment, grief, anger, or despair, that were never intended to enter a digitized corpus. And, of course, people usually regarded postcards as ephemeral, unaware of digital humanities research and suchlike reexamining communications a century later.
Scholarly curiosity is one thing. But deltiology also needs an in-
formed yet empathic sensitivity on what to include in making material
re-readable. When it comes to postcard images stemming from amateur
and vernacular photography, the same applies to the pictures. Even if
it is frustrating for research, public deltiology, which includes citizen
research as well as artistic processing, needs to balance case by case
what to include, what to show, and what to make reusable. A “happy new
year”, however, should be fine with everyone.

References

Arreola, Daniel D.; Burkhart, Nick, “Photographic Postcards and Visual Urban Landscape”, *Urban Geography*, 31/7, 2013.

Bancilhon, Philippe; Monnier, Gérard, *Les années ZUP. Architectures de la croissance 1960-1973*, Paris, Picard, 2002.

Barthes, Roland, *Camera lucida. Reflections on photography* (1980), New York, Hill and Wang, 2010.

Bogdan, Robert; Weseloh, Todd, *Real Photo Postcard Guide*, New York, Syracuse University Press, 2006.

Boltanski, Luc; Bourdieu, Pierre; Castel, Robert, *Eine illegitime Kunst: die sozialen Gebrauchsweisen der Fotografie*, Hamburg, Europäische Verlagsanstalt, 2014.

Boyarski, Nicholas, “The Ephemeral Imagination. The Postcard and Construction of Urban Memory”, *Candide*, 2021/12; p. 73–85.

Brinkmann, Ulrich, *Achtung vor dem Blumenkübel! Die Fußgängerzonen als Element des Städtebaus, Ansichtspostkarten in Ost- und Westdeutschland 1949 bis 1989*, Berlin, DOM, 2020.

Brinkmann, Ulrich, *Matera moderna: Postkarten aus der Zeit des italienischen Wirtschaftswunders*, Berlin, DOM, 2022.

Brinkmann, Ulrich, *Vorsicht auf dem Wendehammer! Die Straße als Element des Städtebaus. Ansichtspostkarten in der DDR und Bundesrepublik 1949 bis 1989*, Berlin, DOM, 2023.

Burns, Peter M., “Six postcards from Arabia: A visual discourse of colonial travels in the Orient”, *Tourist Studies*, 2004/3; p. 187–303.
Carline, Richard, *Pictures in the Post*, London, Gordon Fraser, 1971.

Cure, Monica, *Picturing the postcard: a new media crisis at the turn of the century*, Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press, 2018.

Epstein, Renaud, *On est bien arrivés: un tour de France des grands ensembles*, Paris, Le Nouvel Attila, 2022.

Flierl, Thomas (ed.), *Bauhaus, Shanghai, Stalinallee, Ha-Neu: der Lebensweg des Architekten Richard Paulick 1903–1979*, Berlin, Lukas Verlag, 2020.

Gillen, Julia, “Writing Edwardian postcards”, *Journal of Sociolinguistics*, 2013/13; p. 488–521.

Gugganig, Mascha; Schor, Sophie, “Multimodal Ethnography in/of/as Postcards”, *American Anthropologist* 122/3, 2020; p. 691–97.

Jailer, Mildred, “Yesterday’s Postcards are today’s new treasures”, *New York Times*, Nov. 23., 1975; p. 82.

Kaden, Ben, “‘My Dear Mother’ Multimodalität als Herausforderung bei der Auseinandersetzung mit Ansichtskarten”, *Retraceblog*, 01.11.2021.

Kearns, Seamus, “Collecting Picture Postcards”, *Dublin Historical Record*, 2001/2, p. 139–44.

Kramer, Thomas, *New York auf Postkarten. Die Sammlung Andreas Adam, Zürich, Scheidegger & Spiess*, 2010.

Liepach, Christoph; Kaden, Ben, *Gera ostmodern*, Leipzig, sphere publishers, 2020.

Mathur, Sangeeta; Mathur, Ratnesh, *Picturesque India: A Journey in Early Picture Postcards (1896–1947)*, New Delhi, Niyhogi Books, 2018.

Meikle, Jeffrey, *Postcard America: Curt Teich and the Imaging of a Nation, 1931–1950*, Austin, University of Texas Press, 2016.

Östman, Jan-Ola, “The postcards as media”, *Text & Talk*, 2004/3; p. 423–42.

Plaul, Marcus; Haumann, Anna-Rosa; Kröger, Kathleen (eds.), *Kino in der DDR: Perspektiven auf ein alltagsgeschichtliches Phänomen*, Baden-Baden, Nomos, 2022.

Prochaska, David, “Thinking Postcards”, *Visual Resources: An International Journal of Documentation*, 2011: p. 383–99.

Pyne, Lydia, *Postcards: The Rise and Fall of the World’s First Social Network*, London, Reaktion Books, 2021

Rosenheim, Jeff, *Walter Evans and the picture postcard*, Göttingen, Steidl, 2009.
Schröter, Erasmus, *Bild der Heimat. Die Echt-Foto-Postkarten aus der DDR*, Berlin, Schwarzkopf und Schwarzkopf, 2002.

Wagener, Wolfgang; Erganian, Leslie, *NEW WEST*, Munich, Hirmer, 2019.

Wilson, Kenneth, *Snapshots and short notes: images and messages of early 20th-century photo postcards*, Denton, University of North Texas Press, 2020.
# Framing Fragments
## The Image, Modernity, and Architecture

Saptarshi Sanyal

<figure><img src="image_60.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 55: Mumbai, Marine Drive Boulevard in the 1960s.</figcaption></figure>

## The Image as a Site of Architectural Production

Architecture, we could say, might seem inseparable from its image. This essay reflects on such a relationship within the realm of writing *architectural* histories of modernity. Here, we could argue how the image operates as a site of consuming architecture through the photograph—which in a sense, is as integral to informing and producing knowledge of architecture as other key representative forms like drawing or writing. We may also speculate, even discover evidence of how often photographic images shape the practice of architectural designers.
The role such images, particularly photographs, play in historically
situating and inscribing architecture seems far less questionable (for
reasons to keep this text focussed on the material at hand, I'm conscious
of leaving out from this discussion the moving image or motion picture,
or for that matter the more current, virtual, modes of simulating spatial
and architectural reality). Those writing about, describing, analysing, or
lecturing on architecture often rely, rather than the actual artefact, on
an object that represents it. They lean on visuals to speak about spaces
they haven't walked through, sought refuge from the heat or cold in, felt
the warmth of light or the cold of shadow within, surfaces they haven't
touched. Seldom have they experienced architecture 'in the flesh', so
to speak. Some conscientious architectural historians take exception
to such an approach. To stay true to the "articles of the discipline",
for instance, Reyner Banham impressed upon a research student in
the 1980s—a student who later became the acclaimed scholar Adrian
Forty—how a historian must write only about those buildings, spaces,
or places s/he has seen or personally experienced.<fnref n="1" />

Yet, such a thing can be considered the privilege of those for whom
international or intercontinental mobility is an easy affordance. Beyond
those in post-imperial societies, the question of how accessible travel
might be remains open. It is possible, for instance, to speculate about
the asymmetries of how many visual bodies of work produced by Indian
travellers and photographers travelling in Britain or Europe or America
in the nineteenth or twentieth centuries, stack up against those of indi-
viduals and groups from such societies travelling to India. Or whether
travellers from other post-colonial societies such as Indonesia or Viet-
nam have as much to say about the Dutch or French as the latter have to
say about them. I will not get into these debates here. But the limits to
transporting ourselves to the places or experiencing spaces and build-
ings we want to write about, far too many to describe, prompt our turn
to the photograph. Today, in the age of social media, students, educa-
tors, practitioners, or even potential clients across the world might see

<footnote n="1">1 Forty, Adrian, *Concrete and culture: a material history*, London, Reaktion Books, 2012.</footnote>
and ‘experience’ architecture on Instagram or Archdaily far more than in person. Historically thus, as in the present, the image of architecture emerging from the photograph and architecture itself are tied a dialogic relationship.

Yet, just as physical distance separates us from buildings and spaces we wish to think of or write about, so does time. Oddly, this temporal aspect equalises different constituencies, privileged travellers or not. Such a time-space distance proffers, to say the least, one of the prime openings for architectural histories to be written. Photographs are integral to negotiating such a distance—even if, as Walter Benjamin reminds us, in a photograph “something has actually to be *constructed*, something artificial, something set up” (emphasis in original).<fnref n="2" /> It is in this sense that this essay reflects on the role the present collection of postcards from India. It reflects on the plural, fragmented and uneven nature of modernity as observed through the photographic image as a site of architectural production.

<figure><img src="image_61.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 56: Mumbai, Churchgate and the Eros Cinema in the 1970s.</figcaption></figure>

<footnote n="2">2 Benjamin, Walter, "A short history of photography" (1931), *Screen*, vol. 13, no. 1, 1972; p.5–26.</footnote>
## Fragments and Fiction

In his seminal thesis, Kenneth Boulding reminds us that the image is a form of knowledge making that transcends what we witness. Reflecting on how such knowledge is rendered mutable through the “message [that] hits an image”, Boulding argues that, when contested, images remain “resistant to change”.<fnref n="3" /> Collectively considered, the postcards we witness in this collection assert many kinds of change, however. They appear, again collectively, far from singular in the image they construct of architectural modernity in Indian cities. Individually straddling a staggering range of time, each visual fragment portrays not just the changing stylistic and spatial character of buildings, environments and spaces, but also photographic and representational techniques; the hand-painted, sometimes oversaturated, colours of the Taj Mahal Hotel or General Post Office (GPO) in Bombay, the Imperial Hotel and Ashoka Hotel in New Delhi, and the Kalighat Temple and pontoon bridge spanning the Hooghly in Calcutta are particularly conspicuous in this respect.

Specific photographs bear testimony to the resistance to change that the makers of such images might have experienced. The juxtaposition of colonial (and post-colonial) modernity with more indigenous modes of transport, for example, occupies the focal point of Bombay's GPO, the horse-drawn 'ekka',<fnref n="4" /> as opposed to the European carriage. In Bombay itself, a lone pedestrian walks along a traffic median at Churchgate, offering a foreground to busy traffic surrounding a modernist edifice, ostensibly the offices of "Finlay's Fabrics". Bullock carts traverse the paved streets fronting the expansive 1800s-built Writers Buildings of Calcutta around the Holwell memorial, commemorating the sinister Black Hole

<footnote n="3">3 Boulding, Kenneth E., *The Image, Knowledge in Life and Society*, Ann Arbor, University of Michigan Press, 1956; p.7–8.</footnote>

<footnote n="4">4 An 'ekka' is a two-seater vehicle drawn by a horse, as opposed to a multi-seater where the horse-driver and passengers are separated, the latter often occupying a compartment in the rear.</footnote>
incident of the eighteenth century.<fnref n="5" /> A bullock cart also appears in front of the elegant Crawford Market in Bombay. Some photographs also con-struct juxtapositions: the spherical, or onion-shaped domes dominating the images of a hybrid architectural setting, the mosque on Muhammad Ali Road, while also forming a backdrop (the Prince of Wales Museum), to the photograph of a modern automobile speeding past Durga Bajpai's understated Jehangir Art Gallery.

The indigenous denizens of these Indian metropolises seem to resist experiences of colonial and modernist architecture or respond to it with practical exigencies—an everyday resistance of inhabiting modern spaces, perhaps of the kind that Douglas Haynes and Gyan Prakash posit.<fnref n="6" /> Conversely, counterparts from their erstwhile, racially dominant societies seem to cling to India’s new-found architectural modernity in the post-colonial period. A couple of images take us, to recall Thorstein Veblen, into their world of conspicuous consumption,<fnref n="7" /> a world of extravagant leisure within luxury hotels such as the Sun and Sand in Bombay or the Oberoi Inter-continental in New Delhi.

All such images are but fragments. But how do we interpret them? They appear to construct a fiction of Indian cities and environments resisting the onslaught of both colonial modernity and the architectural modernism that followed. Indian cities, their architectures, and the experiences of these cities and architectures, we are told through these photographs, did not yield so easily to the imperatives, perhaps also a fiction, of a universal modernity. Rather, they complicate the story. These spaces, buildings, and environments, seem to assert that modernity is hybrid and plural. Rather than a robust category applicable across cultures and societies, architecture meets its adversary in

<footnote n="5">5 Hill, S.C., *Indian Records' Series, Bengal in 1756-57*. Volume III, London, John Mur-ray, 1905; p.131-53.</footnote>

<footnote n="6">6 Haynes, Douglas; Prakash, Gyan (eds.), *Contesting Power: Resistance and Every-day Social Relations in South Asia*, Berkeley, University of California Press, 1991; p.1-22.</footnote>

<footnote n="7">7 Veblen, Thorstein, *The Theory of the Leisure Class*, New York, B.W. Huebach, 1918; p. 68-101.</footnote>
them. Domesticated by its many inhabitants, cities and architecture emerge as porous and leaky, both as conceptual and physical containers of modernity, also a kind of delicate bubble in which the conspicuous consumption of modernity is held by some.

## The Photographic Gaze: From Above and Below

About half of the postcards of this collection view urban spaces from above. In their wide, sweeping view of the cityscape, we are compelled to recall Swati Chattopadhyay's critique of the grandiose, how "an aesthetics of big scale dominates our historical imagination".<fnref n="8" /> Still, photographs of particular buildings, seen from the eye level, comprise a third of the collection. This brings us, finally, to two interrelated questions. What happens when we photograph buildings and urban spaces? Does the photograph, with its colours, forms, lights, details, animate our imagination and understanding of modern architecture?

<figure><img src="image_62.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 57: Kolkata, Brabourne Road in the 1960s.</figcaption></figure>

<footnote n="8">8 Chattopadhyay, Swati, "Architectural History or a Geography of Small Spaces?", *Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians*, March 2022/1, vol. 81; p. 5–20.</footnote>
Or do photographs, little more than a shadow of reality, deprive us
of the rich lived experience of architecture and urbanisms? These ques-
tions bring us back to the mythology of the popular image, embodied in
the very medium of the postcard, perhaps a mode of speech, a meta-lan-
guage of symbols and meanings of architectural modernity.

Yet, it is this aspect of the popular image that ushers in fresh ways of
looking at modernity through Indian architecture and its metropolises.
Images exist in a triad: the site of their production, the sites of their
consumption and those of their interpretation—domains that include
the creator, receiver as well as the researcher. More importantly, the
image, while very much embedded in a modern technology of photogra-
phy and printing, defies easy classification. This collection of postcards
subverts the ways in which India entered the colonial gaze as a form of
unchanging knowledge where architecture and cities are concerned.<fnref n="9" />
The very ambiguity of the image helps to transcend the colonial-mod-
ern impetus of labelling and classifying,<fnref n="10" /> a problem that very much
populates architectural histories to the present day.<fnref n="11" /> In effect, such an
image of Indian modernity—as experienced through this collection of
postcards—brings forth varying, competing and not necessarily coher-
ent, perspectives through its architectural and urban spaces, both from
above and below.

References

Barthes, Roland, *Mythologies*, London, Vintage, 1993.

Benjamin, Walter, “A Short History of Photography” (1931), *Screen*, 13, no.1, 1972; p. 5–26.

<footnote n="9">9 Prakash, Cyan, *Another Reason: science and the imagination of modern India*, Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1999; p.21–22.</footnote>

<footnote n="10">10 Chakrabarty, Dipesh, “Modernity and ethnicity in India”, *South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies*, vol. 17, no. 1, 1994; p.143–155.</footnote>

<footnote n="11">11 Sanyal, Saptarshi, “The paradox of categories” (book review) *Architecture and In-dependence: The Search for Identity—India 1880 to 1980* by Lang, Jon; Desai, Mad-havi; Desai, Miki, in: *Architectural Research Quarterly*, vol. 26, 2022/1; p.105–08.</footnote>
Boulding, Kenneth E., *The Image, Knowledge in Life and Society*, 9th edn, Ann Arbor, University of Michigan Press, 1973.

Chakrabarty, Dipesh, "Modernity and Ethnicity in India", *South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies*, 17, no.1, 1994; p. 143–55.

Chattopadhyay, Swati, "Architectural History or a Geography of Small Spaces?", *Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians*, vol. 81, no. 1, p. 5–20, 2022. https://doi.org/10.1525/jsah.2022.81.1.5

Forty, Adrian, *Concrete and Culture: A Material History*, London, Reaktion Books, 2012.

Haynes, Douglas; Prakash, Gyan (eds.), *Contesting Power: Resistance and Everyday Social Relations in South Asia*, Berkeley, University of California Press, 1991.

Hill, S. C., *Indian Records' Series, Bengal in 1756–57, Volume III*, London, John Murray, 1905.

Prakash, Gyan, *Another Reason: Science and the Imagination of Modern India*, Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1999.

Sanyal, Saptarshi, "The Paradox of Categories"—(Book Review) *Architecture and Independence: The Search for Identity*—India 1880 to 1980 by Jon Lang, Desai Madhavi, Miki Desai, in: *Architectural Research Quarterly*, 26, no.1, p. 105–08, 2022. https://doi.org/10.1017/S1359135522000288

Veblen, Thorstein, *The Theory of the Leisure Class*, New York, B.W. Huebach, 1918.

<figure><img src="image_63.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 58/59: Left: Mumbai, Mahatma Gandhi Memorial, Sanjay Gandhi National Park, 1969. Right: Chennai, Valluvar Kottam, Memorial to Poet Saint Thiruvalluvar, 1976.</figcaption></figure>
<figure><img src="image_64.png" /><figcaption>Fig. 60/61: Left: Agra, Clarks Shiraz, 1950s. Right: Claridge's Hotel, New Delhi, 1955.</figcaption></figure>
<figure><img src="image_65.png" /></figure>
List of figures

<table>
  <tbody>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 1:</td>
      <td>Marine Drive Boulevard: Bombay's waterfront in the 1970s.</td>
      <td>12</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 2:</td>
      <td>Eros Cinema (1938): an Art Deco-style monument built by Indian architects but furnished with lifts from Stigler (Italy).</td>
      <td>15</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 3:</td>
      <td>"Bombay: Souvenirs de passage" (Memories of a Journey) and the Hamidiya Masjid (1880).</td>
      <td>17</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 4:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, View from Malabar Hill in the 1970s.</td>
      <td>19</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 5:</td>
      <td>Visweswaraiah Industrial and Technological Museum, Bangalore, 1962, architect: unknown.</td>
      <td>22</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 6:</td>
      <td>Kolkata, Rabindra Sadan Cultural Centre (1967).</td>
      <td>29</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 7:</td>
      <td>Panaji (Goa), View of the port, 1970s.</td>
      <td>32</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 8:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, The Jehangir Art Gallery (1952) with, in the background, the CST Museum (formerly called Prince of Wales Museum, 1905).</td>
      <td>36</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 9:</td>
      <td>This colorized photograph of the Kali temple in Calcutta (now Kolkata) shows a street scene around 1890.</td>
      <td>37</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 10:</td>
      <td>W. Rössler's six "Calcutta" postcard set from 1896. Collection Omar Khan.</td>
      <td>39</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 11:</td>
      <td>"Nautch Girl", Omar Khan Collection.</td>
      <td>40</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 12:</td>
      <td>"Snake Charmers", Omar Khan Collection.</td>
      <td>46</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 13:</td>
      <td>Kolkata, The "Black Hole" Memorial, symbol of British colonial system in India.</td>
      <td>52</td>
    </tr>
  </tbody>
</table>
<table>
  <tbody>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 14:</td>
      <td>Kolkata, The old pontoon bridge (1874).</td>
      <td>53</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 15:</td>
      <td>Bengali Babos, Collection Omar Khan.</td>
      <td>55</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 16:</td>
      <td>Government House—Calcutta, Rössler, Omar Khan Collection.</td>
      <td>57</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 17:</td>
      <td>Mumbai. Bombay Bay around 1900. In the 1920s, the British colonial administration carried out new works to drain the sea and expand the city.</td>
      <td>67</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 18:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Esplanade Road and Floral Fountain.</td>
      <td>70</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 19:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Crawford Market.</td>
      <td>72</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 20:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Hornby Road in the 1940s.</td>
      <td>73</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 21:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Victoria Terminus (1888), today Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus (CST) in the 1970s.</td>
      <td>75</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 22:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Taj Mahal Hotel (1903) in the 1920s.</td>
      <td>78</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 23:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Taj Mahal Hotel and Taj Mahal Tower, model of the 1970s.</td>
      <td>82</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 24:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Flora Fountain in the 1960s.</td>
      <td>84</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 25:</td>
      <td>New Delhi, Connaught Place (1933) in the 1960s.</td>
      <td>89</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 26:</td>
      <td>New Delhi, Parliament House (1927) in the 1960s.</td>
      <td>91</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 27:</td>
      <td>New Delhi, All India Radio (1936) in the 1960s.</td>
      <td>91</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 28:</td>
      <td>Delhi, Map of Vasant Kunj.</td>
      <td>103</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 29:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Flora Fountain and the Videsh Sanchar Bhavam Tower (Tata Communications Limited) in the background.</td>
      <td>107</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 30:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, General Post Office, 1913.</td>
      <td>110</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 31:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Victoria Terminus.</td>
      <td>112</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 32:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Flora Fountain: a major communication junction in the centre of Fort.</td>
      <td>116</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 33:</td>
      <td>Howrah, New Railway Station.</td>
      <td>120</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 34:</td>
      <td>Kolkata, New Telephone Exchange.</td>
      <td>122</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 35:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Western Railway Office.</td>
      <td>124</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 36/37:</td>
      <td>Left: Mumbai, Sahar International Airport, photograph from the 1960s. Right: Verso of the above-mentioned postcard.</td>
      <td>129</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 38:</td>
      <td>North-western suburb of Mumbai, residential buildings built in the 1970s.</td>
      <td>133</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 39:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Malabar Point and Bombay Bay in 1900, before the international economic boom and trade globalization.</td>
      <td>136</td>
    </tr>
  </tbody>
</table>
<table>
  <tbody>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 40:</td>
      <td>New Delhi, Interior courtyard of the Oberoi Hotel in the 1970s.</td>
      <td>137</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 41:</td>
      <td>New Delhi, Ashok Hotel (1956).</td>
      <td>140</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 42:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, The Sun'n'Sand Hotel in the 1960s.</td>
      <td>141</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 43:</td>
      <td>New Delhi, Oberoi Intercontinental Hotel.</td>
      <td>142</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 44:</td>
      <td>New Delhi, Hotel Imperial (1936), Pre-Independence postcard.</td>
      <td>143</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 45:</td>
      <td>A 19th century hotel in old Delhi.</td>
      <td>144</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 46:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, View of Marine Drive in the 1970s with the Trident Hotel on Narima Point in the background (1973).</td>
      <td>147</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 47:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, in the 1960s. The words "Finlays Fabrics" and "Congress" emerge from this urban view and suggest the economic and political reality of Independent India.</td>
      <td>151</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 48:</td>
      <td>Mumbai. This rare representation of the Esso building (now Petrol House) shows a projection of the building completed in 1956. The collage technique evokes the practices of the interwar European avant-gardes.</td>
      <td>154</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 49:</td>
      <td>Mumbai's Marine Drive waterfront boulevard is one of the most reproduced postcard motifs of India. Comparing the views allows us to see the changes in the urban landscape from the 1940s to the present day.</td>
      <td>157</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 50:</td>
      <td>Picture postcard, circa 1955 Berlin Stalinallee Liz.-Nr. A 110/55.</td>
      <td>163</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 51:</td>
      <td>Embassy of BRD in New Delhi (1962), whose construction (1954-62) began at the same time as the Stalinallee in East Berlin was being built.</td>
      <td>164</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 52:</td>
      <td>Reverse side of the Stalinallee postcard (Fig. 50).</td>
      <td>165</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 53/54:</td>
      <td>Left: National Physical Laboratory, New Delhi (1956). Produced by the Advertising Branch, Ministry of I. &amp; B.Govt. of India and issued by the Tourist Traffic Branch Ministry of Transport, Printed in India by the Times of India Press, Bombay. Right: Reverse side of the National Physical Laboratory postcard (Fig. 53).</td>
      <td>173</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 55:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Marine Drive Boulevard in the 1960s.</td>
      <td>177</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 56:</td>
      <td>Mumbai, Churchgate and the Eros Cinema in the 1970s.</td>
      <td>179</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 57:</td>
      <td>Kolkata, Brabourne Road in the 1960s.</td>
      <td>182</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>Fig. 58/59:</td>
      <td>Left: Mumbai, Mahatma Gandhi Memorial, Sanjay Gandhi National Park, 1969. Right: Chennai, Valluvar Kottam, Memorial to Poet Saint Thiruvalluvar, 1976.</td>
      <td>184</td>
    </tr>
  </tbody>
</table>
<table><tr><td>Fig. 60/61: Left: Agra, Clarks Shiraz, 1950s. Right: Claridge's Hotel, New Delhi, 1955.</td><td>185</td></tr></table>
## Authors

**Éléonore Muhidine** (b. 1988) completed her PhD in Architectural History at the Rennes University and the Free University in Berlin. She holds a Master's degree in Art History from the Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne University and a Master's degree in History of Architecture from the Architecture School in Versailles, France. She works as a researcher at the School of Architecture in Potsdam and is affiliated researcher at the Zentrum Moderner Orient in Berlin. Her current research focuses on the architecture of the modern movement in India and on Indian architects during the 20th century. She is currently working on an architectural history of Bombay's cinemas 1900–1960 from the perspective of the city's urban history, as well as from a transnational perspective on cinema's architectural design. She recently published an article on the heritage of Mumbai's Marine Drive in the journal *Architectura* (2022/50, "Perspektiven der Forschung", eds. Barry Bergdoll, Andreas Schwarting, Klaus Tragbar), and two essays for the Mumbai Architecture Guide (Berlin, DOM Publishers) to be published in 2023.

**Omar Khan** is the author of *Paper Jewels Postcards from the Raj* (2018) and *From Kashmir to Kabul The Photographs of John Burke and William Baker 1860–1900* (2002). He grew up in Vienna, Austria and Islamabad, Pakistan and is a graduate of Dartmouth College, Columbia and Stanford universities. He lives in San Francisco where he works as Chief Technology Officer at the NGO Common Sense Media. He founded Harappa.com in 1995 and has researched early photography and ephemera of the sub-
continent for over thirty years. A growing portion of his large postcard
collection focused on South Asia is available at PaperJewels.org: https://
www.paperjewels.org/

**Preeti Chopra** is professor of modern architecture, urban history and visual studies at the University of Wisconsin-Madison who specializes in the visual, spatial, and cultural landscapes of South Asia and the British empire. She trained as an architect (CEPT, Ahmedabad), landscape architect, urban planner, and architectural historian (University of California, Berkeley) and has conducted research in western and southern India. Chopra is the author of *A Joint Enterprise: Indian Elites and the Making of British Bombay* (Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press, 2011). She is currently working on a second book on colonial Bombay. Chopra has published on a range of subjects that embraces charity and philanthropy, the naming of city districts, French colonial urbanism in Pondicherry, the formation of suburbs in Bombay, and art and memory in the Indian city. She has received numerous research grants and fellowships, including from the Institute for Research in the Humanities at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, the Netherlands Institute for Advanced Study in the Humanities and Social Sciences, Amsterdam, the International Institute of Asian Studies, Leiden and Centre d'Histoire, Sciences Po, Paris. She is the recipient of the 2023 Suzanne Deal Booth Rome Prize at the American Academy in Rome.

**Anupam Bansal** (b. 1969) is an architect, urbanist, and academician. He co-founded Atelier for Built-Environment Research & Design along with his partner Rajesh Dongre in 1996. Over the last two decades, they have built a diverse portfolio of projects ranging from Research Campuses, Universities, Schools, Cultural Institutions, Corporate Offices, Hospitals etc. to name a few. Many of their projects have received critical acclaim and awards, on National and International platforms. Anupam received his Bachelor of Architecture degree from School of Planning and Architecture, New Delhi in 1993, subsequently graduated in Master of Architecture from Kansas State University, Manhattan/USA in 1996. He has written and lectured on various aspects of the history and urban devel-
opment of Delhi and India. He co-authored *The Delhi Architecture Guide* (Berlin, DOM Publishers) along with Malini Kochupillai. This well illustrated and mapped book is the first of its kind architectural guide of an Indian city, which covers the entire timeline of Delhi's architecture from Sultanate, Islamic, Mughal, Colonial and Post-Independence Modern and contemporary architecture. His other writings include 'Extending Imperial Delhi: the Diplomatic Enclave of Chanakyapuri', 'Housing Types And Their Evolution: Delhi 1900–2014', 'Pastiche Architecture: On the architectural Surges of Hafeez'.

**Shraddha Bhatawadekar** (b. 1986) is an archaeologist and has been working in the field of heritage management and education. She completed her doctorate titled *A Place of Hybrid Encounters: Heritage Biography of a Railway Station*. Story of Victoria Terminus, now Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus, Mumbai in affiliation with the DFG-Research Training Group 1913 at the Brandenburg University of Technology, Cottbus-Senftenberg, Germany, where she is currently affiliated as a postdoctoral researcher. In her research, she focuses on the multi-layered dimensions of heritage, highlighting hybridity and transculturality. With the use of an object biography approach, she shows how the entanglement of place, people, objects, and meanings together constitute heritage. Shraddha Bhatawadekar is a recipient of Fulbright-Nehru Academic and Professional Excellence Fellowship (2015–16) and Alexander von Humboldt German Chancellor Fellowship (2016–17). She takes special interest in heritage education and outreach and has facilitated various courses and trainings.

**Yves-Marie Rault-Chodankar** (b. 1991) is a postdoctoral researcher at the Institut Francilien Recherche Innovation Société (IFRIS) in France. He has completed his doctorate in Development Geography at the Université de Paris. His PhD thesis looked at the globalization of India's pharmaceutical industry, with a focus on the industrial role of Mumbai. He has been a visiting scholar and guest lecturer at the Tata Institute of Social Science in Mumbai. He lives between France and India and conducts research on industrial dynamics and regional development in the Global
South. His research focuses on economic development and technological globalization and has been published in leading international journals such as *Social Science and Medicine* and the *Journal of Economic Geography*.

Ben Kaden studied library science, sociology, and political science at Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin. He is interested in the relationships between spatial representation and perception, memory culture, and (postcard) photography. In 2020, he published *Karten zur Ostmoderne* (Leipzig, Sphere Publishers), in which he examined picture postcards depicting urban settings and architecture of the GDR. He regularly writes about picture postcards with library motifs for the open-access journal LIBREAS.

Saptarshi Sanyal (b.1983) is an architectural historian, educator, visual storyteller, and Assistant Professor at the School of Planning and Architecture in New Delhi. He has taught at the Bartlett School of Architecture, University College London, where he conducted his PhD in Architectural History and Theory. Saptarshi's research lies at the intersections of architectural modernity, colonialism, and post-colonial studies. It focuses on connected histories and the movement of ideas, labor, and finance underlying architectural processes, thereby uncovering histories of architecture as a process and a collaborative act. His PhD thesis interrogates the categorization and classifications of architectural objects, investigating critiques of imperialism and international modernism in twentieth-century colonial India. He has lectured in and conducted workshops in more than twenty-five institutes all over India. His photographic work explores the poetics and mythologies embedded in everyday histories of human experience. He has published widely on modern heritage, knowledge systems and architectural history and theory, most recently writing for journals such as the *Architecture Research Quarterly* and *Architecture Beyond Europe*.
Cultural Studies

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Gabriele Klein

**Pina Bausch's Dance Theater**

Company, Artistic Practices and Reception

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Markus Gabriel, Christoph Horn, Anna Katsman, Wilhelm Krull,

Anna Luisa Lippold, Corine Pelluchon, Ingo Venzke

**Towards a New Enlightenment –**

**The Case for Future-Oriented Humanities**

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Sven Quadflieg, Klaus Neuburg, Simon Nestler (eds.)

**(Dis)Obedience in Digital Societies**

Perspectives on the Power of Algorithms and Data

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Ingrid Hoelzl, Rémi Marie

**Common Image**

Towards a Larger Than Human Communism

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Anna Maria Loffredo, Rainer Wenrich,
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Changemakers in Arts & Education

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Olga Moskatova, Anna Polze, Ramón Reichert (eds.)

**Digital Culture & Society (DCS)**

Vol. 7, Issue 2/2021 –
Networked Images in Surveillance Capitalism

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