The story of the making of White and Black: A Journey to the Centre of Imperial Calcutta deserves to be told. It begins with one of my first assignments soon after joining The Telegraph in 1994. Aditi Roy Ghatak, a former colleague, called me to say that a certain Olaf Van Cleef, counsellor in high jewellery with Cartier, was meeting the press and if I would like to be there. Jewellery design and fashion have always fascinated me and I was glad to oblige. I already knew of Van Cleef & Arpels from an Eartha Kitt song, but I had no idea then that Olaf Van Cleef was descended from a family that was jewellers to the Tsars of Russia. He has wintered in Calcutta almost every year since, but it was only after his first exhibition of paintings here five years ago that he thought aloud if he could do anything in return for the love and affection he has enjoyed in Calcutta.
Mr Van Cleef’s views of this city are at variance with the poverty-squalor-despondency routine. Although I am not sure I can agree with him, he feels Calcutta is still the cultural capital of India, and he is in love with the old buildings of north Calcutta as well as the colonial ones. He uses a single evocative adjective to describe them, and that is "Visconti", after the celebrated film director.
So I suggested that he sponsor a book on the city’s architectural heritage that runs the risk of being deleted from its face, thanks to the real estate mafia and administrative apathy. Mr Van Cleef readily agreed to sponsor the project.
I had earlier met the photographer, Mr Christopher Taylor, who has been visiting the city for years, at his exhibition organised by British Council. I admired his photographs of Calcutta because of the dignity he endowed even on its ruins. I realised he must have worked tirelessly on them and I admired his dedication. Now he has an enviable archive of Calcutta photographs.
He was already working on Calcutta’s imperial buildings, and we decided that we would work together on Dalhousie Square. There was already a buzz around this heritage zone and I was not aware of any exclusive work on it.
The book is meant to create a composite picture of Dalhousie Square as it is today through text and photographs. There are references to its history, no doubt, but the focus is always on our times, and the gradual transformation of the zone from the seat of imperial power to the hub of people power.
I only hope that this book will raise awareness about our city’s incredibly rich architectural heritage. We should realise that heritage can turn out to be a money-spinner instead of a white elephant. I had met Mr Charles Correa when he used to visit the city to supervise the construction of City Centre. We are all aware that he feels very passionately about the revival of the magnificent buildings, warehouses and ghats along the Hooghly banks. He said on one occasion that landlords in cities like Rome, Paris and London are no more heritage lovers than the ones in Calcutta. But the governments there make it worth their while to preserve heritage buildings. Landlords there enjoy tax benefits and other incentives for looking after heritage properties. There is prestige attached to heritage. The same people in our city, who swoon over the elegance of European cities, often overlook and destroy the wealth that lies unseen in their own backyards. China has suddenly woken up to the fact that the past cannot be disowned. It has a way of revisiting us.
I am told that in Ahmedabad, the developers’ lobby has taken several measures to preserve the city’s heritage as they have realised the impact that it can have on a city’s future. Perhaps some day sanity will prevail in Calcutta as well.
