Features
National Sandalwood ‘Farm’
By Prof. Dushyantha A. Basnayaka
Amidst thousands of lost lives and livelihoods due to COVID-19, and unprecedented uncertainties about the country’s future, the recently opened a 9-acre venue near Battaramulla named as “national sandalwood garden” is arguably the last thing, that Sri Lankans currently want to talk about. However, now and then some nationally important matters emerge that, amidst every obstacle, demand reflection.
Why does a sandalwood garden, or for that matter any garden, matter? Though gardens sound peripheral, if designed properly, they could be made to be a soft, subtle and powerful exhibition of national values, imagination, and creativity. Even though, it is not entirely clear what the main motivation of the current government of building a national garden of this sort is, the conception of a garden as a national venue is reasonable and has merit.
The finished venue consists a large staircase leading to a central elevated rectangle platform with two large ponds and regularly-spaced twelve concrete slabs, which eventually leads to half-circularly-arranged twelve geometric-shaped ponds at a lower elevation. Almost all the edges have been decorated with lights, and each vertical slab has been adorned with a water feature and a colour-changing display of light. The rest of the area is covered with regularly-spaced sandalwood plants planted unusually on mini truncated square pyramids. The project has been widely publicised as the first state sponsored garden in Sri Lanka in modern times, and also have costed nearly 300 million rupees to the Sri Lankan taxpayers. Though seems perfect, we cannot help, but to ask:
In the third decade of the 21st century, is this the best Sri Lanka can offer? Does this display Sri Lanka’s ingenuity and creativity? Does this inspire visitors, and provoke imagination and creativity in them? Does this place have the depth and the gravity of a national venue?
Too Small and Too Insensitive
It is puzzling why such a venue was chosen in a highly unusual area in terms of the location. Its size is also significantly smaller to a garden of national importance. But the shortcomings of this project go well beyond the poor location and the size. It is not known if design proposals, open or limited, were called, or if a creative director for the project, who is responsible for the intellectual and artistic leadership, was appointed. As a result, a significant lack of architectural and artistic quality throughout the finished venue can be found.
It has two lines of equally-spaced vertical concrete slabs erected on water with electrically-driven water features vaguely resembling cubicles of an extravagant old-fashioned public urinal. Moreover, the bright flashing lighting display reminds visitors of nothing, but an old-school electronic project. One might argue that this is a piece of post-modern or neo-futuristic architecture, but they should reflect how palatable these types of architecture to this part of the world, and how they fit with the architecture in the rest of area and the country.
Sri Lanka’s primary energy sources are oil and coal. It has not been reported in the media that in-house renewable energy is available for the daily operation of the venue. Given these circumstances, using main electricity for water features and tacky lighting displays seems insensitive. Instead, a system of gravity-fed ponds and water features could have been developed using some clever engineering and creativity, which could have added an extra dimension of ingenuity to the project. In modern days, constructions with water features and lighting systems, like the ones used in this venue, that lacks ingenuity and are excessively dependent on main electricity, are conceived only by tacky billionaires in the West or oil tycoons in the Middle East, but not by nations with notable heritage. Unfortunately, these are not the worst part of the project.
Garden vs Farm
The entire area, between the central platform and the boundaries in all directions, is covered with sandalwood plants planted in regular intervals giving a monotonous view in all directions. Anybody would agree with the writer that, in order to facilitate harvesting, it is in farms, not in gardens, where equally-spaced plants or trees typically exist. It is a mystery why such a plant arrangement, which does not have an ounce of creativity and imagination, was chosen.
A simple alternative arrangement could have greatly improved the creative element of the project. For instance, even a simple scheme that includes smaller spaces separated by narrow footpaths or waterways, and decorated with unique and innovative plant arrangements, would have considerably increased the aesthetic appeal of the venue. These smaller spaces could have been decorated with a combination of young and mature sandalwood plants in conjunction with other complementary plants and gravity-fed water features. It seems that designers have not studied, at least, the Royal Botanical garden in Peradeniya, which is a shame.
Rescuing the Reputation
The venue is now completed. In its current form, it is more of a national embarrassment than a national pride, which should be rescued at any cost. However, the rescue operation is dependent on one important question.
If the current design was intentionally chosen due to reasons outside the scope of art, architecture, and ingenuity, no major changes are needed, but altering the name of the venue is sufficient. Dropping the name “National”, and changing the last name from “Garden” to “Farm”, will be a national service in its own right. Otherwise, no one can stop this venue being a loud and unwitting statement of nation’s remarkable inability even to distinguish the difference between a “Garden” and a “Farm”.
If the authorities still consider this venue as a place to showcase the nation’s capabilities, the sandalwood plant layout on the outskirts should, at least, be redesigned. The current monotonous equally-spaced plant layout is a serious shortcoming. Lastly, authorities should also reconsider discharging their moral duty to make this place more accessible to every individual including the physically disabled by, for instance but not limited to, removing areas with rapid changes of elevation.