Learn about the history and architecture of India's disappearing stepwells
Learn about the history and architecture of India's disappearing stepwells
Stepwells are spectacular subterranean edifices “like skyscrapers sunk into the earth,” explains Victoria Lautman in the video Subterranean Ghosts: India's Disappearing Stepwells (2013), produced and edited by Matthew Cunningham.
Written and photographed by Victoria S. Lautman; Produced and edited by Matthew Cunningham (A Britannica Publishing Partner)
Transcript
[Music in]
VICTORIA LAUTMAN: It's hard to imagine an entire category of architecture slipping off history's grid, but that's the case with India's subterranean stepwells. If you've never heard of them, you are not alone. Millions of tourists and plenty of locals who routinely visit India's palaces, forts, and temples remain oblivious to these fascinating centuries-old structures that are often hiding in plain sight near popular destinations in Delhi, Agra, and Jaipur.
Stepwells are unique to India. They were born of necessity around 300 AD, thanks to a capricious climate that's bone-dry for much of the year followed by torrential monsoon rains for many weeks. In arid states like Gujarat and Rajasthan, it was essential to have a reliable year-round water supply for drinking, washing, and irrigation. And considering the water table might be lurking 10 stories underground, reaching the water at its deepest, lowest level was just one issue. Equally important was collecting and preserving precious rainwater. In fact, during dry seasons there might be hundreds of stairs to navigate before filling a bucket, while during the monsoon those steps could be completely submerged.
Over the course of a thousand years, these clever manmade chasms evolved into astoundingly complex feats of engineering, architecture, and art. They were a reversal of aboveground structures--built down rather than up--like skyscrapers sunk into the earth. Several thousand proliferated throughout India until the 19th century in towns and cities but also along crucial trade routes, where travelers and pilgrims could park their animals and take shelter against the heat in covered arcades.
Stepwells were the ultimate public monuments available to both genders and to all faiths, and commissioning one was considered a deeply pious act.
The names of wealthy patrons are still recorded inside the structures, and a quarter of these philanthropists are thought to have been female. Who better, since fetching water was and still is the domain of women. Gathering down in the cool depths of the village stepwell would have been an important social activity and a reprieve from highly regimented lives. But besides their function as civic centers, stepwells became bona fide subterranean temples for Hindus, with a backdrop of intricately carved stone deities, where ritual bathing, prayers, and offerings were made.
When commissioned by Muslim rulers, decoration was far more sedate but still impressive. And sometimes it's hard to tell a stepwell's origin. But some are still in use today as temples despite a desperate lack of water in parts of India. Industrialization, unregulated pumping, and drought has depleted the water table in many places. But stepwells began to lose their prominence and have been in precipitous decline for a century. While a handful have been protected and restored by the Indian government, many more have been demolished, left to deteriorate. During the British raj they were deemed unhygienic and were often filled in. Centralized village water taps, plumbing, and storage tanks replaced the physical need for stepwells, leaving the social and spiritual aspects unmoored.
If water is present nowadays, it's generally stagnant, while the structures themselves might be garbage dumps, storage areas, or latrines. Others are just creepy and unsafe, harboring bats, snakes, and other alarming creatures.
So, can these remarkable edifices even hope for a future? Interestingly, some are being reconsidered as possible cisterns for conserving water, partially returning them to their original purpose. Others have inspired contemporary architects and artists, which helps ignite interest. With any luck, these disappearing marvels will start appearing on tourists' itineraries. Otherwise, India's unique stepwells are just one more architectural endangered species, gone for good.
[Music out]
VICTORIA LAUTMAN: It's hard to imagine an entire category of architecture slipping off history's grid, but that's the case with India's subterranean stepwells. If you've never heard of them, you are not alone. Millions of tourists and plenty of locals who routinely visit India's palaces, forts, and temples remain oblivious to these fascinating centuries-old structures that are often hiding in plain sight near popular destinations in Delhi, Agra, and Jaipur.
Stepwells are unique to India. They were born of necessity around 300 AD, thanks to a capricious climate that's bone-dry for much of the year followed by torrential monsoon rains for many weeks. In arid states like Gujarat and Rajasthan, it was essential to have a reliable year-round water supply for drinking, washing, and irrigation. And considering the water table might be lurking 10 stories underground, reaching the water at its deepest, lowest level was just one issue. Equally important was collecting and preserving precious rainwater. In fact, during dry seasons there might be hundreds of stairs to navigate before filling a bucket, while during the monsoon those steps could be completely submerged.
Over the course of a thousand years, these clever manmade chasms evolved into astoundingly complex feats of engineering, architecture, and art. They were a reversal of aboveground structures--built down rather than up--like skyscrapers sunk into the earth. Several thousand proliferated throughout India until the 19th century in towns and cities but also along crucial trade routes, where travelers and pilgrims could park their animals and take shelter against the heat in covered arcades.
Stepwells were the ultimate public monuments available to both genders and to all faiths, and commissioning one was considered a deeply pious act.
The names of wealthy patrons are still recorded inside the structures, and a quarter of these philanthropists are thought to have been female. Who better, since fetching water was and still is the domain of women. Gathering down in the cool depths of the village stepwell would have been an important social activity and a reprieve from highly regimented lives. But besides their function as civic centers, stepwells became bona fide subterranean temples for Hindus, with a backdrop of intricately carved stone deities, where ritual bathing, prayers, and offerings were made.
When commissioned by Muslim rulers, decoration was far more sedate but still impressive. And sometimes it's hard to tell a stepwell's origin. But some are still in use today as temples despite a desperate lack of water in parts of India. Industrialization, unregulated pumping, and drought has depleted the water table in many places. But stepwells began to lose their prominence and have been in precipitous decline for a century. While a handful have been protected and restored by the Indian government, many more have been demolished, left to deteriorate. During the British raj they were deemed unhygienic and were often filled in. Centralized village water taps, plumbing, and storage tanks replaced the physical need for stepwells, leaving the social and spiritual aspects unmoored.
If water is present nowadays, it's generally stagnant, while the structures themselves might be garbage dumps, storage areas, or latrines. Others are just creepy and unsafe, harboring bats, snakes, and other alarming creatures.
So, can these remarkable edifices even hope for a future? Interestingly, some are being reconsidered as possible cisterns for conserving water, partially returning them to their original purpose. Others have inspired contemporary architects and artists, which helps ignite interest. With any luck, these disappearing marvels will start appearing on tourists' itineraries. Otherwise, India's unique stepwells are just one more architectural endangered species, gone for good.
[Music out]