Hanuman reshapes Shimla's Landscape?

Azur vivace d’un espace
Ou chaque arbre se hausse
A la recherché de son âme.
Jules Supervielle

Around a year ago I made the following comments on this blog about Jakhoo forest in relation to Christ Chruch:

‘Although Christ Church is the icon of Shimla it is dwarfed by the mountains all around, the geography of Shimla mall soars up behind Christchurch like a wall which leads to Jakhoo peak, home of Hanuman. Now, Jakhoo temple can’t really be seen from the Mall, or the lift, unlike Christ Church, because it is hidden behind a covering of sacred deodars... Jakhoo then does not stand (as Christ Church does) proudly for all to see as a man made construction that reminds us of Divine creation, rather it sits engulfed in the Divinity of the natural world. As such it mirrors the mountains that are visible surrounding Shimla, many of them topped with temples whose beauty and serenity far surpasses that of Jakhoo in my opinion, but nevertheless operate in a similar way’.

How times change, now, ushered in by a movie star, Hanuman towers over the trees and looks down on the town below. So, my theory is clearly shot, but given this I now have questions for all my Shimla friends: how are people on the ground seeing this transition? Is the explicit branding of the forest landscape as the realm of Hanuman more favourable than the previous implicit (yet widely recognised association)? Is Hanuman now the focus of man’s tribute to Divinity in Shimla, not Christchurch? Is this a bold symbol of postcolonial identity, or simply a act of piety? Has the statue changed the character and feel of Shimla? What sort of visual dialogue does the statue have with Christ Church? Is it harmonious, hierarchical, or hostile?

Is Shimla’s landscape a churchscape?

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'A people without history
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern
Of timeless moments. So, while the light fails
On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel
History is now’

T.S. Eliot

I was listening today to a speech by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, delivered at Lincoln Cathedral. In this speech he suggested that the church building is a witness of dependability: a place that speaks of a longer time scale and vision than most people work with. Given the way my mind works this of course set me thinking about Shimla and the way that the churches there create a sense of continuity with the past. In my previous post we discussed the way that interactions with heritage buildings give people a sense of rootedness and some of the problems with modernist architecture. It seems to me that the churches are particularly good at this form of Witness even though many of those most involved with them are unaware of this.

In thinking about such things I am reminded of Greenage’s book New Jersey Churchscape, in which he argues that New Jersey (known as the garden city) should really be known as a Churchscape, because the most iconic and eye catching feature of the landscape is the churches. Now, in Shimla as well the churches form a key aspect of the heritage landscape. Christ Church can be seen from virtually every angle on the mall and people are drawn to it.



But it also stands in dialogue with St Andrew’s, the former Scottish Church, which is today the Himachal Pradesh University's centre for evening studies. St Andrew’s Eastern alignment has been cleverly manipulated, by moving the tower to the side, which furthers the sense that the two churches are talking to each other across the expanse of the ridge.



St Michael’s by contrast is more tucked away at Ripon place, yet it is on a key route to the mall from the buss stand and along the mall from IIAS, as such it is something that you stumble upon through the trees, on your way to and from the mall like a hidden gem.



Is Shimla then also a city of Churchscapes? When people walk along the mall are they more drawn to secular buildings, such as Gaity theatre? Or is it the mass of Jakhoo hill, with the unseen presence of the temple atop, that calls to them? Or, are people drawn to the timeless mountains, snow-capped in winter, that tower above Shimla from afar?

If the continuing growth of modern architecture threatens to ruin the landscape of Shimla, is it the old Colonial architecture that makes it? Or, is this also something that intrudes on the true beauty of Shimla, which is the Himalayan peaks and forests?

Three in One

I think that what I have been trying to suggest is that Shimla city moves its average visitor through a journey of sacred spaces. Starting with the lift Temple associated with the modern era, noise, chaos, humanity, the absence of beauty, being enclosed, darkness, limited visibility etc. To Christ Church and the ridge, associated with the Colonial era, quiet, manmade order, humanity pointing to nature, manmade beauty inspired by nature, both overlooking and being overlooked, light, extreme visibility etc. To Jakhoo Temple associated with the mythic era, the quiet whisper of nature, natural order, natural beauty augmented by man, overlooking, the sun (and heavens), blended visibility. All these sights are moved through chronologically by the casual visitor, with all being moved through twice apart from Jakhoo (once on the way up and once on the way down). Jakhoo then is the peak of the revelation of the Divine that Shimla offers – it is both literarly and figuratively the zenith of its landscape. Spatially these all involve am movement up, there is not much horizontal movement on this journey the movement is largely vertical and each space is encountered in the context of the previous, with the insight imparted by the previous. There is also a movement to do with association of time here from the present to the colonial to the mythical and each space not only progressively deepens our reach through time but also is a living space that carries through the others without rupture. That is to say that Christ Church not only draws from the colonial past but is very much alive and contributes to post colonial Shimla. Jakhoo not only reminds us of the mythical past, but draws us through the colonial period to the modern age, where it also is alive today as an important point of pilgrimage. Here then connected by space and time are three sites of religious worship that are encountered by the visitor and which encapsulate the multi–layered nature of modern Shimla.
Of course I am talking here about the average day/or weekend tripper, how these spaces are encountered by more frequent visitors and local residents is a different story altogether and I think the subject of another day.

Jakhoo Temple (1.3)

Although Christ Church is the icon of Shimla it is dwarfed by the mountains all around, the geography of Shimla mall soars up behind Christchurch like a wall which leads to Jakhoo peak, home of Hanuman. Now, Jakhoo temple can’t really be seen from the Mall, or the lift, unlike Christ Church, because it is hidden behind a covering of sacred deodars. To get there involves abandoning modern transport even more, no car, no lift, instead most people walk up the path that winds behind Christ church and through the forest. Jakhoo then does not stand (as Christ Church does) proudly for all to see as a man made construction that reminds us of Divine creation, rather it sits engulfed in the Divinity of the natural world. As such it mirrors the mountains that are visible surrounding Shimla, many of them topped with temples whose beauty and serenity far surpasses that of Jakhoo in my opinion, but nevertheless operate in a similar way. Nearby there is Tara Devi, from which the peace of the mountains begins to descend on you, as the wind toys with your hair. Behind the old temple is a newer Shiva temple, which is beautifully carved from the scared deodar trees that can be seen all around. Even further away, yet more /or less visible from Shimla mall on a clear day lies Hatu peak, a place where it is possible to stand and see nothing but trees stretching out bellow. And here two a new temple is being skilfully crafted by Himachali artists from sacred deodar wood. These temples then point to the divinity of nature in a far more direct way than Christ Church and like Christ church they point to the past as well as existing in the present.
My point is perhaps made stronger if I return my wandering gaze to Jakhoo hill once more. Here we have a place that, unlike the elevator area and temple, clearly engages with Shimla’s colonial history. As with Christ Church there are wonderful tales of Characters from the Colonial period who worshiped there. I am thinking particularly of that fellow who one often hears about (a Brit I think) who converted to Hinduism and lived on the mountain, in the forest of Jakhoo, it is said taht he was able to talk to the monkeys... it is frutstrating not remembering all the details and many of my notes are lost in transit (one box of books shipped from Shimla arrived here several weeks ago, yet the other sent at the same time is still to arrive, we know it made it to Delhi and then the expensive tracking system we paid for seems to fall apart, although no one is saying this, i worry that it has be lost or stolen along the way) . Anyway if anyone knows the details of this fellow and can provide them I would be grateful. The point is that Jakhoo temple intersects with that period, but it also points back beyond it. It points back to the founding of Shimla and even beyond to the mythical age when it is said That Hanuman stopped there on his way back from collecting the Sanjeevani booti. Jaknhoo hill moves us closer to nature again and connects the postcolonial period back through the colonial period to the pre-colonial period.

Up The Lift to Christ Church (1.2)

The Shimla lift takes you from the cart road to the mall and seemingly transports you to an otherworld (interestingly skipping the lower bazaar, which is another story again), where the more organic vernacular architecture gives way to the imposing Colonial structures. The largely car free mall road, although bustling with life, is quieter and more restful than bellow, at times it is possible to glimpse over the buildings and see the tree lined hills soaring above and the delightful valleys bellow. Dogs impose peace on the space by lazing restfully in the middle of the paths that the humans bustle along and the wide streets are swept clean of litter, by both human workers and the ever watchful non–humans. A sense of history now comes to the fore, whereas the cart road seems like any small new town in modern India here people notice things about the buildings and tell stories of the events that they heard occurred here in the past. From more or less anywhere on the Mall you can see rising above you Christ Church Cathedral, most people make their way to the ridge, buy some popcorn or ice cream, look at the hills, and then take a picture outside Christ Church. It is almost emblematic of the entire mall space and it is what Shimla is to many tourists. Christ Church itself is designed in an orderly fashion and upon stepping inside even the noise of the mall drops away, hundreds of visitors (of all faiths) have recorded in the visitor’s book that the thing that strikes them most about Christ Church is a sense of peace. Furthermore the church is designed to draw attention to certain aspects of nature: its towering Gothic structure draws the eyes up towards the heavens (in a mimicry of the surrounding mountains) and in contrast to the temple below, inside it is filled with light that spills in and refracts through the cleverly designed windows in ever changing ways. Thus, the church is a man made structure that draws attention to both the past and nature and the presence of divinity within these. It reminds us of order, of peace and calm, it stands for something that connects the past and the present in a seemingly timeless way and encourages you to abandon bustle and give in to peace. The Church is no museum piece but is still very much alive enriched by a diverse group of worshipers who blend the traditions of the past with postcolonial innovations in worship – now and then are tied together.

Give and take

Anthropologists are often criticized for taking from the field the data they need ,yet not giving anything substantial back to the people they work with. I hope that my study in general will be of use to the people of Shimla, both Christians and none Christians; however, as a way of helping in the short term I have also agreed to make some brochures for the two main churches, which draw upon the archival resources that I have accessed to highlight key architectural features of the buildings. As Father Xavier is away at the moment St Michael's brochure is on hold, but I have today completed a first draft of a brochure for Christ Church, which seems to have been initially well received.

Back online again

I am back online after a period in cyber wilderness, during which research has been progressing at a steady pace. I am very pleased to announce an honorary association with Himachal Pradesh University's Institute for Himalayan Studies, http://www.himalayanstudies.com/ and am looking forward to fruitful dialogue both for the Shimla project and other work. 

The hill station is back in full flow now, swelled by the return of those who have been hibernating elsewhere for the winter. The churches are now also more awake again and we also entered the crucial lent period, which was marked last Sunday by performing the stations of the cross - a spatialization of the passion, which deconstructs linear history in an Eliadian sense. 

I will not regularly  post excerpts from my field notes on this blog, which is a complementary outpouring; however to compensate for my lack of posting over the last few weeks,  I will share with any readers an excerpt from my field notes that was written sometime ago, when the Churches, especially Christ Church, were much more subdued:

Shimla Field Log 25/01/2009

We raced to Christ Church, the most notable church on the mall, this morning for an advertised 9am English service. Christ Church is the old Anglican cathedral, today part of the united reformed churches of North India that sits atop the ridge like a fondant church atop a cake. It is the key landmark of Shimla and when people think of Shimla and its European heritage they nearly always think of Christ Church.  After a slightly delayed start We literally raced around the winding roads to the church for the morning service, and arrived around 5 minutes late (I should mention that our house is a good hour’s walk from the central mall).  We entered via a side door and observed a sign saying please remove your shoes, so ever obedient, we took off our shoes added them to the pile, before and padding into the church. The inside surpassed my expectations in terms of the simple, elegant beauty of its construction: high ceiling lit by light filtered through stained glass, rich red carpet leading to a sparkling white alter emblazoned with a blood red cross of St George.  The light was wonderfully filtered and the sound was only that of the cawing crows and whistling wind - peace descended almost instantly. To my dismay and joy the large church was almost empty (dismay because of the implications for research, joy because the emptiness magnified the peace and simple grandeur of the space).  Around four groups of people totalling around 20 were seated silently facing the alter, some in prayer, some just sat in peaceful meditation, one group were noticeably European, the other North East Indian and the remainder a mix of South and North Indian.

 I sat down in a pew, gave up a simple prayer of thanks and quieted my soul in the blissful space. After about 10 minutes of sitting in silent meditation a man appeared carrying books, his demeanour was that of intent devotion to his work, yet his manner was unhurried and untroubled.  5 minutes later he returned with a brush and began sweeping in the same calm focused way and I was reminded of a plaque that stands at the other end of a ridge outlining some of the history of Shimla and above it is engraved the (mistranslated Benedictine) motto ‘Work is Worship’.  The rest of us did not work we just sat there in silence, sometimes minds turned inward in prayer, letting the exterior fuel our inner peace and aide our inner communion; sometimes watching silently the sweeper at work, sometimes noticing the environment in more detail, the stained glass dedicated to a brigadier or a general who died a hundred years ago, or the brass plaques where the colonial ancestors of the place look down on you from, in loving memory, etched into the fabric of the walls. And I realised that no one here was a regular and probably all of us were here for the first time, none of us probably knew what was unfurling and yet we sat there expectant in that place, we sat in silence and received no complex liturgy or homily just the essence of the protestant message, an empty cross, the beauty that they who is created in Her image can create when focused on Her glory, and of course the protestant work ethic,  ‘work is worship’, individualised prayer, confession and salvation. At this point one of the other people there broke the peace by talking to the sweeper who informed us that services were closed for the winter and would begin again in March. So we left and went our separate ways – myself and Sukanya to the now  familiar territory and friendly faces of the Catholic church of  St Michael, for the 10.30 mass, but after half an hour of the most intensely spiritual and resonantly Anglican experience.