微精选

On July 15, 2023, Scope Cinemas in Colombo, Sri Lanka, hosted the premiere of the highly anticipated documentary Local Genius: The Life and Work of Geoffrey Bawa. Directed by Afdhel Aziz, this 74-minute film endeavors to unveil the extraordinary life of the “greatest unknown architect” to the world. Bawa, hailed as the “Father of Tropical Modernism,” profoundly influenced architectural luminaries such as Tadao Ando and Kerry Hill, even though his name remains relatively obscure among the general public. The documentary not only pays homage to Bawa but also serves as a profound exploration of architecture, culture, and identity.

Geoffrey Bawa (1919–2003) was born into a mixed-heritage family in Colombo, Sri Lanka. His father, Benjamin Bawa, was a lawyer, while his mother, Bertha Marian, possessed Sinhalese, German, and Scottish roots. His brother, Bevis Bawa, became a renowned landscape architect. Despite their contrasting personalities, both siblings inherited a refined aesthetic sensibility from their family. Bawa received his early education at Royal College, Colombo, and later pursued law at the University of Cambridge, becoming a practicing lawyer at Middle Temple in 1944. However, his legal career lasted only two years—a combination of his mother’s passing and his growing disenchantment with legal practice spurred him to embark on a global journey.

In 1948, Bawa purchased the derelict rubber estate “Lunuganga” on Sri Lanka’s southwest coast, intending to transform it into an Italian-style garden. While this project exposed his initial inexperience with architectural techniques, it also ignited his passion for spatial design. In 1951, he apprenticed with Colombo architect H.H. Reid; however, Reid’s untimely death forced Bawa, then 38, to enroll at the Architectural Association in London. His experience there earned him the wry nickname of “the oldest, wealthiest, yet most unfocused student,” but he ultimately graduated with a distinctive intuitive design approach and returned to Ceylon in 1957 to launch his architectural career.

In 1958, Bawa joined the Colombo-based firm Edwards, Reid and Begg, collaborating with Danish architect Ulrik Plesner. Their early projects, such as the Ekala Industrial Estate and the Bishop’s College Classroom Block, adhered to the International Modernist style but soon evolved toward a more regionally inspired approach. The Ena de Silva House (1961) marked a turning point—with its high-walled courtyard, traditional wooden lattice windows, and open floor plan evoking the design of Kandy’s ancestral homes while embracing modern fluidity.

In 1967, following a dispute over credit that led to Plesner’s departure, Bawa’s career truly flourished. His design for the New Sri Lankan Parliament Building (1979), set amidst an artificial lake, featured a sloping roof and an asymmetrical layout that diminished the imposing nature of conventional political structures, symbolizing an “open democracy.” Yet, subsequent urban expansion and heightened security demands eventually compromised this visionary concept. Even so, the project was hailed by Malaysian architect Ken Yeang as “a pioneer of bioclimatic skyscrapers.”

At the heart of Bawa’s work lies the concept of “sense of place.” In the documentary, drone footage captures the entirety of the Heritance Kandalama, a building that appears to grow organically from the rock. Its cantilevered structures and vegetation-clad façade blend almost seamlessly with the Dambulla mountains. Bawa had explicitly instructed the construction crew “not to cut down a single tree,” ensuring that the hotel coexisted in symbiosis with the surrounding forest. This philosophy reached its pinnacle at Lunuganga, where, over a span of 50 years, he interwove artificial lakes, sculptures, and lush greenery to transform a rubber plantation into “habitable landscape art.”

Sri Lanka’s economic constraints and import restrictions inadvertently spurred Bawa’s inventive use of local materials. For instance, during the construction of the Bentota Beach Hotel, all materials—aside from the elevator—were sourced locally: hand-forged ironwork, rough granite flooring, coconut wood furniture, and even commissioned interior murals by artist Donald Friend. However, in 1997 the hotel was converted into a “luxury resort,” erasing the original meditative design. This tragedy has come to symbolize the challenges of preserving Sri Lanka’s cultural heritage—statistics reveal that only 5 of the 35 hotels Bawa designed have retained their original character, while most of the 25 private residences have been demolished or significantly altered.

Bawa’s architecture eschews conventional air conditioning and extensive glass facades, opting instead for natural cooling achieved through courtyard ventilation, deep overhanging eaves for shade, and “breathing facades.” The Mahaweli Office Building (1976), with its fan-shaped layout designed to capture monsoon winds and perforated brick walls that enhance airflow, consumes only 30% of the energy of comparable buildings. This design approach predated the widespread concept of sustainable architecture by nearly 30 years. As architect Channa Daswatte reflects in the documentary, “Bawa taught us that true ecological design is not about piling up technology but about a humble observation of nature.”

The rift between Bawa and Plesner remains one of the most debated episodes in architectural history. In his autobiography, Plesner claimed to be “Bawa’s mentor,” asserting that he had steered projects such as the Polontalawa Bungalow. However, the documentary, drawing on testimony from client Thilo Hoffman, reveals that it was Bawa who conceived the idea of embedding the structure among a cluster of boulders, while Plesner executed the technical aspects. This division of “inspiration and execution” became a hallmark of Bawa’s career. His assistant, Ismeth Raheem, recalled, “Bawa was like a conductor who could spark the team’s potential with even a rough sketch.”

Despite being honored with the Aga Khan Award for Architecture in 2001, efforts to preserve Bawa’s legacy in Sri Lanka have long lagged behind. The Ena de Silva House was sacrificed in 2011 to make way for a parking lot, and the Cambridge Square row houses in Colombo were converted into commercial spaces. The Geoffrey Bawa Trust has since emerged as a vital guardian of his legacy: Lunuganga now attracts tens of thousands of visitors annually, and his former residence in Colombo has been transformed into a museum displaying his manuscripts and furniture designs. The Trust has also established the “Geoffrey Bawa Award” to encourage a new generation of architects to “step out of his shadow.” In 2022, the winning project, Indrasena House, reimagined the traditional courtyard through a concrete frame and perforated brick walls, earning judges acclaim as “an evolution of the Bawa spirit.”

Through his 1986 publication, The White Book, Bawa quietly reshaped the architectural landscape of Asia. The book’s hand-drawn renderings and succinct annotations became a “bible” for Southeast Asian architects. Singaporean architect Kerry Hill admitted, “Bawa taught us how to write tropical stories in a modern language.” His influence even reached the commercial sector—Singapore once saw a “McDonald’s Bawa-style restaurant,” where a water feature and frangipani trees mimicked his aesthetic. Yet, this popular adaptation also sparked controversy. Sri Lankan architect Madhura Prematilleke lamented, “Bawa has been reduced to a mere label of ‘tropical chic.’ We urgently need to move beyond such symbolic imitation.”

Director Aziz interweaves his personal experiences into the narrative—drawing on settings such as the Lunuganga estate, a wedding venue, and the Lighthouse Hotel from family vacations—to add emotional depth to the film. However, this personal perspective may also result in selective portrayals. For example, the documentary omits some of the contradictions that marked Bawa’s later years. According to biographer David Robson, Bawa once tore up a contract over an assistant’s alteration of design plans, yet he was also known to offer generous discounts to less affluent clients. Such complexities call for a broader array of historical sources to achieve a balanced view.

The documentary also interviews some of Bawa’s final collaborators, including his assistant Sumangala Jayatilleke, who recalls, “Bawa would always be sketching late at night; he said that architecture is a ‘solidified dream.’” These oral histories help fill the archival gaps—since Bawa destroyed most of his drawings in 1997—but they must be cross-verified with existing documentation. For instance, Bawa’s only public design manifesto, published in the 1968 Ceylon Times Yearbook, emphasized that “architecture should respond to the memory of the land,” a sentiment that resonates strongly with the film’s overarching theme.

The film makes extensive use of drone footage to underscore the interaction between Bawa’s architecture and the landscape. Aerial views of the Kandalama Hotel, for example, vividly illustrate its symbiotic relationship with the surrounding cliffs. However, the use of filters in certain scenes—such as the twilight shots of Lunuganga—may have amplified a “romanticized vision.” As architectural scholar Robert Powell observed, “At its core, Bawa’s work is rational; its poetic quality arises from an extreme refinement of function and climate.”

“A true genius needs no labels; his work speaks for itself.”

(Tagline for the premiere of Local Genius: The Life and Work of Geoffrey Bawa)

Geoffrey Bawa is celebrated as a poetic visionary in architecture whose work redefines the dialogue between structure and nature. Born in Sri Lanka, his creative journey was deeply influenced by the convergence of traditional local culture and the global currents of modernism. By masterfully employing native materials such as natural stone, wood, and concrete, Bawa transcended the rigidity of classic modernism, infusing his designs with both strength and an innate warmth. His work marks a transformative shift from pure modernism to a regionally attuned modern expression, one where each structure resonates harmoniously with its cultural and environmental context.Iconic projects like Lunuganga Estate and Kandalama Hotel vividly illustrate his approach—capturing a seamless interplay of light, fluid spatial transitions, and a profound respect for the surrounding landscape. Bawa’s creation of interstitial spaces—those delicate zones bridging interior and exterior realms—further epitomizes his belief that architecture should extend the essence of nature rather than impose upon it. His innovative use of materials and commitment to sustainable, context-driven design have left an indelible mark on the global architectural stage, inspiring a generation to pursue a more integrated and environmentally conscious aesthetic. Bawa’s legacy endures as a timeless ode to the interplay of modern innovation and regional identity, inviting us to reimagine architecture as both art and dialogue with nature.