A

nineteenth-century office chair and jack-wood sideboard in the Club

Villa, Bentota (page 190).
The bazaar-like sitting area in the Cinnamon House, Galle Fort (page 92).
Published by Periplus Editions (HK) Ltd., with editorial offices at 61 Tai
Seng Avenue #02-12, Singapore 534167.

Text © 2006 Channa Daswatte

Photos © 2006 Dominic Sansoni

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored

in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior
permission of the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1-4629-0656-7 (ebook)

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Design: Mind Design

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10 09 08 07 6 5 4 3

The grand staircase leading up to the Galle Face Court Dome, Colombo
(page 74).
FRONT ENDPAPER

A man bears a tray of jasmine as an offering to the tooth relic in this

eighteenth-century painting in the entrance corridor of the Temple of the
Tooth in Kandy.
BACK ENDPAPER

A Sinhalese woman dressed in Portuguese style appears at a window in a

nineteenth-century painting at the Kataluwa Temple near Galle.
 Contents

6 The Serendipitous Isle

14 Vernacular and Colonial Inspirations

22 Galle Fort Hotel
28 No. 87
32 The Dutch House
38 Mudannayake House
42 Horagolla Stables
48 An Artist's Residence
54 Iluketiya Bungalow
60 The Hill Club
64 Galapita

68 Island Eclecticism
74 Galle Face Court Dome
80 Lighthouse Street House
88 Galle Face Court Apartment
92 The Cinnamon House
98 79, Leyn Baan Street
104 Eden House
110 Helga's Folly

116 Contemporary Interpretations

122 Alfred Place House
126 Havelock Town House
132 House on 33rd Lane
138 Hameed House
142 Weeraman Walauwe
146 Anjalendran's House

148 Retreats and Resorts

154 Lunuganga
164 Kandalama Hotel
172 The Boulder Garden
176 Kahandakanda
184 Brief
190 The Club Villa
194 A Garden in the East
198 Aluvihare Walauwe
204 Apa Villas

208 Acknowledgments
The Serendipitous Isle
As the haze of twilight descends on Kandy (“mountain”), the citadel of the last
kings of Sri Lanka, called by many Sinhalese people Mahanuwara or the “great
city,” the oboes and rolling drums that mark the evening worship at the sacred
Temple of the Tooth Relic reverberate throughout the valley. On the northern slope
of this valley, in a place of worship planned and built by missionary teachers of an
Anglican Christian school, the sound of evensong melds with that of the temple
drums. This is a typical example of the fusion that is contemporary Sri Lankan
style. The chapel for Trinity College is built of warm honey-colored granite that
was brought in from a quarry 5 miles (8 km) away by elephants, and designed by
the British Vice-Principal Gaster. Started in 1922, it simply copies and uses for a
different purpose the most common of vernacular Sri Lankan buildings—the open
pavilion.
The pavilion is the quintessential Sri Lankan building. From the simple
wayside shelter (ambalama) that dots the pilgrim routes, to the drumming halls of
the pilgrimage centers, right up to the very center of government, the Magul
Maduwa (Hall of Royal Audience), open-sided pavilions with huge overhanging
roofs were the central spaces for life in Sri Lanka. The salubrious climate only
required that a dwelling function as an umbrella, protecting its occupants from the
sun and rain, while allowing air to enter.
These spaces contained nothing more or less than the objects that were
essential for everyday life. Each object, however, was beautifully crafted to suit
its purpose and the means of the occupant. A palpable sense of peace and
discipline pervaded the atmosphere. This was a result of a complete control and
discipline of making space and putting material together. The only bounded
enclosed space in many of these traditional dwellings was perhaps to store things.
Even today, most Sri Lankan village houses have no more than one enclosed
space.
The village houses and dwellings of the populous were of the simplest
possible construction and design: wattle-and-daub (warichchi) structures
carefully covered over with mud and cow dung and roofed with plaited coconut
fronds. Traditionally, only the building of the feudal élite and religious structures
had lime-washed walls and clay shingle roofs. Thus, while these buildings stood
out against the lush green landscape, along with the brilliant saffron robes of the
monks, those of the majority of the people blended back into the landscape.
Essentially a non-urban architecture, these vernacular structures were placed with
great skill in relation to each other on the landscape. This is epitomized by the
thirteenth-century temple and monastery of Lankatillake outside Kandy.
Whilst residential interiors of traditional houses were plain and contained
only the beautifully crafted utensils and objects of everyday life, the interiors of
religious and ritual buildings were in complete contrast. Dealing with the supra
mundane, these interiors are a fantasy of color and pattern: here, polychrome
walls and statues compete with brilliantly colored temple hanging cloths and
curtains.
The accommodation of ritual functions in other buildings was accompanied by
temporary decorations such as the Rali Palamas, literally “bridges of waves,”
made from bright-colored calico, usually the traditional colors of red and white,
and bamboo frames. Other temporary decorative structures accompany various
ritual functions such as funerals, weddings and curative practices like the Sanni
Yakkumas and Bali ceremonies that are performed to avert disease and other
disasters. These are amplified by the brilliant colors of the costumes. The
temporary decorations that accompany Christian religious feasts, such as arches of
coconuts and flowers, sometimes remind one of northern Spain or Portugal, from
whence Catholicism was introduced to the island in the sixteenth century. Others
are adaptations of Eastern practices such as the decoration of a mast that
represents a tree of flags, which derives from the Eastern practice of decorating
sacred trees. Strings of mango leaves over a door with a pair of banana trees in
fruit mark Hindu households on the religious holidays of those believers.
Intricately carved and painted pekada column capitals and ceiling support
the even more highly embellished roof structure at the Temple of the Tooth
in Kandy.

The colonial tradition, like in most other Asian situations, adopted local
building methods and techniques. These resulted in sensible buildings that
addressed the issue of living in a tropical environment. The colonials also
introduced principles of classical order to the construction of houses. Both in
planning and detail, classical principles began to be absorbed by Sri Lankan
builders. By the end of the eighteenth century, Sri Lankan architecture was a
unique blend of local construction tradition and Western classical planning
principles. This pervaded the whole gamut of architecture, from the smallest
wayside shop to the most extravagant mansions of the local ruling class, the
Ratemahatayas and Mudliyars.
Although the monsoon climate of the Indian subcontinent seemed both
beneficial and beautiful, the heat and humidity, aided by termites and fungus,
destroyed even the most solid of materials. This spurred craftsmen to employ
easily renewable material on decorations. One of the simplest materials available
for finishing a house on this coral reef-rimmed island was lime wash or hunu.
Occasional color came from the use of a mud-based samara or yellow ochre
paint. Doors were painted with a variety of vegetable dyes stabilized with
dummala resin.

The cool interior of the former horse stalls at the old manor house of
Horagalla (page 42) has been converted into the main sitting room, with
four main areas for sitting, two up and two down. At one end of the room,
a small cement-finished staircase leads to the upper levels which are
connected by a bridge-like part of the original hayloft.

The entrance to the San-della or Garden Room at Lunuganga (page 154),

the legendary garden estate of Geoffrey Bawa, is flanked by two antique
columns recycled from old buildings—as are the rest of the architectural
elements in the building.

The British colonial period saw a continuation of this tradition at one level,
where the fusion of Portuguese and Dutch conventions were allowed to continue
in everyday buildings. However, in buildings of state, current British tastes were
imposed, as elsewhere in the Empire. The fall-out from this was the introduction
of a further layer of eclecticism in Sri Lankan style and architecture. Invoking a
clause in the Kandyan Convention of 1815, in which the last independent Sri
Lankan kingdom was ceded to the British, the British monarch was made protector
of the faith of Buddhism and portraits of Queen Victoria appeared over the central
entrances to Buddhist shrine rooms. Gothic cathedrals housed vast polychrome
statues of the Buddha, whilst Victorian Italianate façades adorned mosques.
During the twentieth century, more and more outside influences flooded in and
the Sri Lankan style continued to absorb and evolve. Numerous individuals
influenced this development. Comte de Mauny, the European aristocrat who
settled in Sri Lanka in the 1920s on an island off the southern coast, designed his
own eccentric but truly local house. Through his designs for furniture and gardens
for other people, the local élite adopted his style and sensibility.
Around the same time, Bevis Bawa, one of the ADCs to the then governor of
Ceylon, inherited a property from his father and decided to live a life of leisure in
the country and create for himself the elegant house and garden of Brief. Here, he
let loose his fantasies and incredible talents as an amateur architect, interior
designer and gardener, abandoning form and interior design principles in a
lascivious embrace of landscape, sunshine and rain. The old introverted plantation
bungalow was completely opened out and wrapped around in pergolas and
verandas to create space that is no longer inside or outside. Around this, he laid
out his own fantasy of a tropical garden: hidden belvederes in lush tropical
vegetation, moon gates and courtyards paved with cement stones on which leaf
impressions were frozen in time. The lifestyle of Bevis Bawa attracted a large
number of eclectic travelers to his house where he entertained them and regaled
them with his incredible wit and tales.

The original entrance hallway at 79, Leyn Baan Street in Galle Fort (page
98) now doubles as a formal dining room. Its walls, hung with a collection
of paintings done for the owner by an Indonesian artist, are
complemented by mirrors in rustic frames.

Amongst them was Donald Friend, the precociously talented Australian artist
and writer, who came for the weekend in 1957 and stayed on for several years in
Bevis’s garage; he was later to live in Bali for fourteen years. His artistic
contributions are dotted around Bevis’s garden and that of his brother Geoffrey.
Bevis eventually wrote a regular piece for a local newspaper on gardening and,
like the count, went on to design and plant several outstanding gardens for friends
and later for larger institutions. One that survives him is that of the Sigiriya
Village near the ancient archaeological site of the same name.
Lionel Wendt was a unique figure in the early realization of Sri Lankan
contemporary art and design. A gifted pianist, he took up photography and went on
to become one of the most prolific and best-known practitioners of that art in the
country. His immense energy fired the imagination of many contemporary artists,
in particular George Keyt, who worked closely with Wendt on several occasions.
Wendt’s eye for detail in recording the beauty of his country and its people drew
the attention of the public to their own style and culture in regular portfolios of
photographs in newspaper supplements. Wendt’s photographs publicly celebrated
all that was beautiful in what was still in the 1930s and 1940s a traditional
culture.
Wendt was instrumental in bringing together the 43rd Group. This group of
artists and writers met to explore the problems of introducing modern art within
the context of a traditional and non-Western culture. The work of Ivan Peiris,
Justin Dereniyagala and George Keyt, amongst others, began a style and school of
Sri Lankan painting that celebrated the everyday.
A fringe member of this art group was Andrew Boyd, who started as a tea
taster but went on to become one of the first modern architects of Ceylon before
returning to Britain after the war to work for the Greater London Council. His
interest in architecture was largely inspired by Sri Lankan vernacular buildings,
which he described in a series of articles in Sri Lankan newspapers. He was
struck by the similarity of simple traditional buildings to the clean functionalism
of the modernist style.
This interest in traditional architecture was further developed by Minette de
Silva. Coming back to practice in Sri Lanka after her studies at the Architectural
Association in London, and striking up a friendship with Le Corbusier, who called
her “my little bird,” she set out to discover ways of making and doing things
which would be both new and vital and, at the same time, essentially Sri Lankan.
These first attempts at a deliberate fusion encouraged local craftsmen to engage
with contemporary buildings. Winding modernist staircases lined in lac-work
balusters, ethereal carved screens separating otherwise flowing space, and lamp
niches built into load-bearing walls built of earth blocks (kabook) evoked a
unique modernist Sri Lankan style. Local handlooms designed and executed by de
Silva and an English designer friend adorned her walls and doorways. This
search for a modern Asian identity in design and style resulted in her
collaborating, along with her sister Anil and Mulk Raj Anand, in the Modern Art
Research Group in Bombay, which published one of Asia’s first art magazines,
Marg.
In 1948, a young lawyer turned world traveler returned from his wanderings to
settle down to a more sedate life in his native Ceylon, which was then slowly
drifting in its own inimitably gentle manner towards independence. Having bought
a small rubber plantation on a promontory by a lake, Geoffrey Bawa promptly cut
down the rubber trees in order to make his own version of an earthly paradise. A
few years on, after some prodding from a visiting cousin, he decided to embark on
a career in architecture. At the conclusion of his formal education, Bawa returned
to Sri Lanka to start a career that was to reshape the ideals of Sri Lankan
architectural and design thinking. In addition to his vast experience of architecture
and style culled from his travels, one of his first clients, who wanted a “different”
house to those being built at the time, showed him around several of her ancestral
homes. This, along with memories of his own childhood homes, awakened his
interest in local architectural traditions.
This interest in his roots was taken up by his young partner, Danish architect
Ulrik Plesner, who early in his career, in 1957, had moved to Sri Lanka to work in
the office of Minette de Silva. Plesner had grown up with the Sandinavian
modernism of the early 1950s, which valued simple abstract functionalism and
honest use of natural materials. With his friend Barbara Sansoni, Plesner gathered
together a group of young architects who sought out and recorded many vernacular
buildings. Their work resulted—almost fifty years later—in the wonderful book
The Architecture of an Island. Their research also fed back directly into the
designs which Bawa and Plesner produced during their productive partnership in
the period 1959–1965. Perhaps Bawa’s most evocative works from this time were
the Ena de Silva house in 1960 and the Bentota Beach Hotel of 1969. His
inclusive and eclectic style was to set the trend of design and style in the 1960s
and 1970s. His biographer Brian Bruce Taylor described Bawa as one of the
supreme examples of an architect of our times: “Highly personal in his approach,
evoking the pleasures of the senses that go hand in hand with climate, landscape
and culture, Bawa brings together an appreciation of the Western humanist
tradition in architecture with local needs and lifestyles.”
Some of the artists and crafts people who worked with and around Geoffrey
Bawa helped to create a new style of the everyday. The vibrant colors of a
Barbara Sansoni fabric are still a watchword of Sri Lankan design. The
contemporary batiks by Ena de Silva virtually invented a Sri Lankan tradition
within this ancient art form from Southeast Asia. Laki Senanayake was someone
who straddled the world of architecture, fine art and craftsmanship. Originally an
architectural assistant of Geoffrey Bawa, he became a collaborator of Ena de
Silva and went on to become one of Sri Lanka’s most respected artists and
landscape designers.
Contemporary Sri Lankan style is a fusion, as it has always been, befitting the
island’s status as an entrepôt of Indian ocean trade from times immemorial, the
island of the legendary Tarshish from which was exported the jewels for Solomon
to woo the queen of Sheba. It is an all-inclusive style that continues to change and
realign itself to the various movements and patterns of world culture, but
reinventing itself with a unique Sri Lankan twist.
Contemporary designers draw from as many influences and inspirations as
anywhere else in the world. However, the essential ingredients that best
accommodate life and style in Sri Lanka still shine through, with spaces left open
to the environment, and with an emphasis on simplicity in the disposition of space
and in décor. Similarly, the stock in contemporary design emporia at first glance
appears the same as that in other stores worldwide. However, a closer
examination reveals a serendipitous combination of elements that is uniquely of
the island.
The turrets and gothic fantasy on the rooftop of the Cinnamon House
(page 92) offer stunning views over the tiled roofs of the Galle Fort and
out to sea. The turrets of the Anglican Church in the Fort seem to have
been the inspiration for these.
Pargetting or plasterwork in low relief is common in most nineteenth-
century religious buildings on the coastal plain. Here, the façade of a
Buddhist temple bears myriad encrustations, including a coat of arms
derived from the colonial British but with lions on both sides and a stupa
surmounting the shield.

innamon. The very sound of the word conjures up images of tropical allure. In
C the sixteenth century, the trade in the queen of Eastern spices, Cinnamonium
Zeylanicum, was the sole prerogative of the kings of Ceylon and Arab traders, but
with the rise of the Ottoman Empire and its control over land routes to the East
and the subsequent discovery of sea routes, Western traders began to deal directly
with the East—with marked repercussions on the history and culture of Sri Lanka,
many apparent to this day.
November 1505 was a critical moment in the history of the country. The life of
the inhabitants, indeed the very composition of its people, would change
dramatically. Swept by monsoon winds, three Portuguese caravels under the
command of Lorenzo de Almeida found landfall near the port of Colombo. Their
now-legendary journey to meet the King of Ceylon, Bhuwenaka Bahu IV, at Kotte,
the then and present capital of Ceylon, would begin 500 years of links with the
colonial powers of Europe. Having won concessions from Bhuwenaka Bahu to
establish a small warehouse in the solely Arab port of Colombo, the Portuguese
went on to build a fort and, eventually, to take control of the maritime areas of Sri
Lanka.
Old prints and illustrations of the Portuguese city of Colombo show a
Mediterranean city of churches and closely built urban streets within the fortified
area. The houses reveal classic northern Iberian features, with heavy bases and
timbered upper parts. Although very few physical artifacts remain from this era,
either in Colombo or in other areas under Portuguese suzerainty, the Portuguese
legacy is apparent in the baroque churches of the Catholic faith and in the
religious icons within them. What endures is the Portuguese tradition of building
and its distinctly Indo-Portuguese style of furniture, which were to profoundly
influence succeeding colonial cultures, and its language and food, which are today
very much a part of Sri Lankan culture.
By 1658 the Dutch, who had intrigued the kings of Ceylon, now retreated to
the mountain stronghold of Kandy, where they developed their own lifestyle and
culture, and managed to drive the Portuguese out of Sri Lanka. Much to the regret
of Kirthi Sri Rajasinghe, the King of Kandy, the Dutch decided to remain in the
country and develop and eventually monopolize the spice trade. As with the
Portuguese, Dutch styles of building, their food and language have become an
integral part of Sri Lankan vernacular culture, and large numbers of distinctly
Dutch-period buildings and furniture survive to this day. However, Dutch colonial
style in Sri Lanka, while retaining some influences from the Netherlands, is a
distinctly recognizable fusion, influenced by developments in their two most
important Dutch overseas possessions, Batavia and the Cape in South Africa.
Batavian influences include the use of tiles and stucco and the sweeping high-
pitched roofs, while some architectural elements and much of the furniture share
features with that of the Cape. Early Dutch-period doors, for instance, are austere
and bear resemblance to the joinery of the farmhouses of the Cape, whereas later
examples are finer with smaller panes of shuttered glass.
What mostly remains from the Dutch colonial period are residential buildings,
many of them town houses built within the fortress towns, others suburban villas.
The town houses usually comprise four main living spaces running from the street
to a back courtyard garden, joined by a service wing, a series of spaces along one
side of the courtyard. The front veranda or istppuwa —the stoep of the Dutch—
that opened directly on to the road, usually leads through a narrow high hall,
flanked by two rooms, into a great zaal or hall, which in turn opens to a veranda
facing the inner garden. The main living rooms are always generously
proportioned, with high roofs sealed off with timber planks. The suburban villas
have a similar, though less rigid, arrangement of spaces than their urban
counterparts. The formal geometric plans of these houses may have been
influenced by the Palladian fashions sweeping northern Europe, but may equally
have been influenced by traditional Sinhalese manor houses and palaces.

This painting, in the style of the southern school, clearly shows traditional
seventeenth-century dress. Sarongs from Burma and somana cloth from
the East India trade are worn as lungi, along with Western-inspired
jackets. The tortoiseshell hair combs indicate the high status of these
men.

Dutch-period architecture was very much distinguished by its use of simple,

vernacular materials. Thick walls were made of stone or laterite laid in a mud or
mud-and-lime mortar and then heavily plastered with coral lime, which was then
either lime-washed or washed with samara, the distinctly ochre color prevalent in
many old buildings. Sweeping timber-framed roofs supported by round columns
were finished with a covering of half-round sinhala terracotta tiles laid on thin
timber slats—now synonymous with Sri Lankan architecture but possibly first
introduced by the Arabs and later adopted by both the Portuguese and Dutch.
Doors and windows were made from heavy sectioned jackwood joinery. Although
the details have changed over time, these elements are clearly visible in the
architecture in other Dutch colonies of the period and in parallel architectural
developments in Europe. The few civic buildings that do survive from the period
have a distinctly utilitarian appearance, a plain no-nonsense architecture to serve
the puritan Calvinist culture and work ethic. In the churches that survived,
however, the distinct baroque style then prevalent in European ecclesiastical
architecture is manifested.

The main dining space of the Dutch House in Galle (page 32) is the back
veranda. Overlooking a courtyard planted with soursop trees, the veranda
is sparsely furnished with reproduction seventeenth-century Wolfendhal
chairs and modern steel tables. The kitchen is located at the end.

Dutch-period furniture is particularly noteworthy. The spindly Indo-

Portuguese style gives way to a much heavier and exuberant baroque, which has
come to be considered distinctly Sri Lankan, although some styles of furniture are
found in the Cape colony and Batavia. The style, however, falls short of becoming
rococo. even though a Dutch shell motif finds its way into most of the furniture of
the period. Huge four-poster beds spread and hung with pure white linen lined
with Flemish lace are a notable feature of the interiors of the period. The art of
making this lace, known as beeralu, survives in many of the coastal areas of Sri
Lanka.
At the end of the eighteenth century, the British displaced the Dutch as the
colonial masters of Sri Lanka. Initially, the existing Portuguese and Dutch building
traditions persisted, largely because the building industry was controlled by
Portuguese Burghers, but as the nineteenth century progressed the British began to
impose the styles of their empire. While neighboring India indulged in the full
flight of Victorian fancy, the British in Ceylon preferred to use neoclassical styles
in their public buildings, and include adaptations to local climatic conditions.
Unlike the Dutch who were happy simply to trade for spices, the British set about
creating a plantation economy on a massive scale. British colonial style is best
exemplified in the still-extant plantation bungalows and planters’ clubs in the hill
stations of Sri Lanka where the British administrators attempted to re-create a life
as close as possible to that of home. Bungalows set in immaculate lawns trimmed
with petunias, foxgloves and other temperate plants are still a part of the scene in
the hills.
The early bungalows were very plain affairs: simple two-roomed structures
with a veranda. The arrival of British wives changed all this. The British
traditions of the country house were emulated in the plantation bungalows,
especially the formal dining room, drawing room and suites of rooms for guests.
By the early twentieth century, the British bungalow was a well-developed
establishment built on two principles. One was the paramount importance of
verandas all round the house as the space in which to relax and also to meet local
or native acquaintances, who were never invited into the house proper. The other
was the location of staff quarters at a distance from the main house, connected to it
by a corridor, but placed on the leeward side of the winds so that spice-laden
cooking smells would not carry to the main house. These ideals were followed in
every British-period bungalow whatever its external stylization.
The attic bedroom in the Artist’s Residence in Galle (page 48) is furnished
simply, with a muslin curtain draped over a bamboo rod, an old Dutch
planter’s chair, an earthen pot and a reed mat on the unpolished wooden
floor.
The bed platform in the center of the attic is covered with mosquito nets.
Light filters in under the exposed half-round tiles and timber framework of
the roof.

Starchy clubs, such as the Hill Club in Nuwara Eliya, also epitomize British
colonial style. Built in a sub-Lutyens “country lifestyle,” the Nuwara Eliya
continues to maintain a men’s bar, to insist on ties and jackets at dinner, and to
place hot water bottles between the bed-covers. The sweeping fairways of the
Nuwara Eliya Golf Club and its wicker furniture, crisp starched linen, afternoon
teas and dinners of roast beef with over-boiled vegetables are ubiquitous
reminders of the British period.
During this time, furniture became less heavy and more decorative, although
the new bureaucracy also demanded huge quantities of plain and functional
furniture. Highly decorated transoms above doors and windows replaced the
plainer designs of the Dutch. After his visit to Ceylon in the 1890s, the feathers of
the Prince of Wales began to feature in many designs. Even temple architecture
changed to exuberant displays of encrusted vegetation pargetted on to every
possible surface. Queen Victoria herself gained the status of a minor deity,
presiding amidst the foliage as part of the exuberant makara thorana that form the
ceremonial archway over entrances into Buddhist shrines.
The later British period, however, saw a return to simplicity, particularly in
bungalow construction, while the influences of the Arts and Crafts movement in
Europe and also the Art Deco movement began to be felt in Sri Lanka. For
government buildings, however, the neoclassical style was favored as being most
suited to the vision of a rational empire. The Kandy High Court (1860) and the
Colombo Museum (1877), both built by the chief Public Works Department
architect Smither, epitomize this attitude. The PWD also built a valuable stock of
standard design buildings for the Ceylon government railway, which still gives the
railway a unique identity. As late as 1930, the buildings for the State Assembly,
later the Parliament and now the Presidential Secretariat, also designed by the
PWD, used an Ionic order to embellish the grandeur of the structure.
Although architects like Edwards, Reid and Begg used the Classical style for
their town hall design in 1925, by the early twentieth century they happily used Art
Deco for office buildings such as the Princes Building in the Fort, and for
apartment buildings such as the Galle Face Court, and employed Arts and Crafts
styling for estate bungalows such as Adhisham, and even a neo-Sri Lankan style
for the extensions to the Temple of the Tooth in Kandy and that of Kelaniya.
Parallel to the development of urban architecture, Sri Lankan vernacular styles
also derived from the various building practices of several historic periods. The
oldest and most resilient is the rural village dwelling. Other styles have been
permutations and modifications of building methods adopted and perpetuated by
the various ethno-cultural groups that have made the island their home through the
centuries, in particular rural and urban dwellings and places of worship.
Associated with these were travelers’ rest buildings and temporary shelters built
in the fields during early planting or harvesting, and structures for ritual
ceremonies of healing and life-cycle events.
Sri Lankan rural houses developed from the materials from which they were
constructed. The simplest houses consisted of warichchi walls—a skeleton of
jungle wood and bamboo wattle filled with mud—covered with deep overhanging
roofs of jungle timber overlaid with plaited coconut fronds or paddy straw thatch
(illuk). The floors and often parts of the walls were then covered with cow dung
to prevent termite attack and to purify the dwelling. The whole style is one of
smooth curves that seem both visually and physically molded to accommodate
human life, and which also create a soft gradation in light and shade. Doors and
windows consisted of large, well-defined members that were shaped with an adze
and joined together with timber pins. The door sash itself tended to be of a single
plank pivoted on a bottom timber and a top timber, which were a part of the door-
frame. The few enclosed rooms were usually used for sleeping by female and
younger members of the family, and for storage.
Almost no loose furniture is to be found in these houses, and the high plinths of
the verandas that kept out rain and jungle creatures, and the thick half walls that
often defined the edges of a veranda served as seating. The occupants invariably
slept on the floor on reed mats that were rolled up and hung on loops of coir rope
—the paduru Ana —from the rafters. The only other possessions were utilitarian
items, always beautifully crafted, mostly for kitchen use. Elaborate wooden rice
bins were built in the main living space or around the courtyard of many houses.
More valuable items and clothes were stored in wooden boxes. Many of these
vernacular items are highly sought after as decorative elements by collectors and
some feature in the houses in this book.
Shrines and the dwellings of monks and the aristocracy employed the same
building principles and materials, except that the exterior walls were often
covered with hunu lime wash, the exposed woodwork was of much higher quality,
and the roof would be covered in flat clay shingles with patterns made visible by
the use of a straight-edged and a pointed-edged tile. In most rural temples, the
woodwork takes on a high level of craftsmanship, which reached its apogee in the
great royal temples. The interiors are brilliantly painted with stories illustrating
moral and spiritual life, the main means of instruction. In both the Hindu and
Buddhist faith, where devotion is a personal issue, there is no organized worship,
thus the interior, devoid of any furniture, often had either a smooth cow dung floor
or terracotta or granite tiles to sit or kneel on for personal devotion in any chosen
corner of the shrine. Movable furniture is absent except for perhaps an elaborate
table that would be used to place flowers, lamps and incense before the deity.
Preceding the entrance of most shrines was an open pavilion, which was the
principle place of devotion, and also the drumming hall where the offering of
sound was made to the deity being worshipped and concurrently announced the
times of worship. Early Islamic mosques followed the pattern of the open pavilion
preceded by a courtyard for ablutions. The large pitched roof of the main hall of
worship was not unlike a drumming hall of a Buddhist or Hindu shrine. These
open pavilions, along with the verandas in dwellings and the wayside resting
pavilions, epitomize the essence of outdoor tropical living where the only purpose
of buildings was to provide shelter from direct sunlight or torrential rain. The
Magul Maduw (Hall of Public Audience) in the historic capital of Kandy is one
such open pavilion, where no skill or expense was spared to make it suitable for
its purpose as the place of the royal presence.
Temporary structures for various purposes are an integral part of Sri Lankan
life. Given that most dwellings are traditionally rather small, any ceremony such
as a wedding or ritual healing ceremony demanded that a temporary maduwa be
erected and decorated with coconut fronds and other leaves. Guests to the royal
court in medieval times were accommodated in elaborate versions of these
pavilions. Major Davy describes the accommodations that were provided for
them by the King of Kandy on their visits to that city in 1802: “These became the
precursors under Dutch rule of the rest houses for travellers that are found in the
outlying provinces of the island.”
The building materials of early urban houses were also more permanent, with
rocks and mud replacing wattle and daub, and the exteriors almost universally
lime-washed or covered with samara. A greater concern with individual privacy
resulted in many more sleeping rooms, and the stratification of society was
reflected in the separation of activities such as sleeping, entertaining and cooking.
During the early twentieth century, vernacular houses began to show European
influences in the incorporation of columns and doors. Turned beeralu wooden
columns or Tuscan brick piers were used to support veranda roofs. Windows and
doors with glass and timber shutters also contained what were very clearly
European decorative motifs. The austerity of early Dutch and Portuguese
architecture gave way to eclectic Baroque and high Victorian frivolity. Tuscan
piers with plain walls gave way to Gothic arches and elaborate pargetted walls.
Straightforward eaves of layered tiles gave way to fretwork valance boards with
highly elaborate encrustations. Only the steep pitched roof remained, raised even
higher by the Dutch to allow for cooler interiors. The floors were almost always
made of large terracotta tiles set in lime plaster with highly polished plain or
pigmented cement, that were cool to the feet.
The design of the veranda of the Hill Club clubhouse (page 60) closely
follows those found in Indian colonial hill stations. The continuous gables
coming off the sloping roof allow for light to penetrate into the inner rooms
of the club. The design of the outdoor chairs is a local invention and their
comfort belies the awkward shape.

As the nineteenth century progressed, rural Sri Lanka homes began to imitate
the styles of urban dwellings. This was partly because people sought to imitate
what were seen to be more sophisticated styles and partly because the same
craftsmen worked in both spheres. By the end of the century this hybrid style was
very much in evidence in the vernacular architecture of Sri Lanka, particularly in
the coastal regions.
Similar developments occurred in the design of interiors and furniture. Many
commonplace items of furniture today were first introduced to Sri Lanka in the
sixteenth century by the Portuguese. This is evident in the various terms used for
them in the local languages: mesa, almariya, janelaya. The first chairs introduced
by the Portuguese incorporated elaborate Sri Lankan carvings. Dutch furniture was
much heavier, with large chairs and elaborate four-poster beds being common.
Heavy dowry boxes to store linen and other household goods are very much of
what is now perceived as Sri Lankan.
Galle Fort Hotel
GALLE FORT | ARCHITECT: CHANNA DASWATTE

Columns and louvers mark the front of the Galle Fort Hotel. The café on
the veranda opens out directly to the street. A small board on one of the
columns displays the daily menu.

A row of tall louvered panels set between white Tuscan columns in Church Street,
fast becoming the most fashionable street in the old fort city of Galle, marks the
Galle Fort Hotel. Created from the old town mansion of a wealthy family with
links to the jewelry business, its most recent incarnation was as a jewelry factory.
When the present owners bought the building, it was a warren of partitioned
rooms with a courtyard full of temporary buildings made of sheets of corrugated
metal and cement blocks forming furnaces for melting the metal to make the
jewelry. Since then, driven by the passion that comes from truly falling in love
with a place, and a very good eye for detail—and with a little help from an
itinerant architect—the building has been transformed into a place with immense
charm, one that reveals its own history and the eclectic tastes of its owners.
The classic Dutch-period town house plan was adapted in the conversion of
the mansion to a hotel. The veranda, originally wide open to passersby in the
street in front, was enclosed on either side with pivoted louvered panels. The
louvers not only provide the right amount of privacy for diners in the veranda
café, but allow sunshine to stream in through the gaps, producing a delightful play
of light. The main hall was opened up and restored to its original glory, complete
with its high kitsch archway reputedly designed by the Comte de Mauny of
Taprobane Island fame. The two rooms on either side of the hall serve as a bar
and a stylish dining room. A large hall beyond forms the main lounge of the hotel.
In all these rooms, glass skylights allow the sun to stream on to the walls, an effect
that was inspired by the holes in the roof in the original dilapidated building.
Classic Dutch-period cabinets and tables, 1930s-style armchairs and
replicas of nineteenth-century sofas complement the honey-colored walls
and floor in the main hall, entered via the original ornate doorway. Soft
light from the skylights washes the walls from gaps left in the ceiling
panels.
The library, filled at one end with comfortable sofas and poufs, is an ideal
retreat for a quiet read. Light for reading comes in through the open
windows, shuttered at night. A stunning antique shop display case holds
books. The old jackwood floor is covered with coconut fiber rugs, their
colors complementing the tones of the floor, walls and ceiling. The small
miniature paintings on the walls depict vignettes of Sri Lankan life.
The entrance to the library is a modern reproduction inspired by an
original door from another house in the Galle Fort. The arch is typical
seventeenth century.

The hall opens on to a terrace at the back of the house and the breathtaking
sight of the 25 foot (7.5 meter) high colonnade, which composes one of the wings
of the house. Possibly added during an early twentieth-century renovation, the
oversized columns support a small upper story that in proportion looks more like
an attic but is indeed “Le Grande Suite de la Comte de Mauny”—the most
expensive room in the hotel and arguably the largest hotel suite in Sri Lanka.
Some of the other rooms in the hotel take their names from the style in which
they have been refurbished. The grand two-level Admiral Cheng Ho Suite, named
after the Chinese admiral who visited Dondra Head in 1406, is decorated with
Chinese heirloom furniture. The aptly named Portuguese Barracks Suite features a
double bath in the bedroom! A new wing of rooms has been added to balance the
existing ones and provide additional accommodation, along with a pool in the
central courtyard.
The other end of the library is simply furnished with an elegant nineteenth-
century table and chairs. Coconut fiber rugs cover the entire length of the
jackwood floor.
The Grande Suite de la Comte de Mauny on the upper floor of the
northwest wing comprises a lounge, shown here, and two bedrooms. The
suite is named after the famous count who built Taprobane Island and also
reputedly made the early twentieth-century additions to the house.
However, the style of the building’s interiors is decidedly Georgian.
The rooms in the new west wing in the inner courtyard follow the spirit of
the existing buildings. The bedrooms open directly on to the timber floored
balcony on the upper floor and the pool terrace on the lower floor. The tall
verandas offer a pace of life now to be found only in such courtyards as
these.

The exaggerated colonnades of the northeast wing are an early twentieth-

century eccentricity on eighteenth-century foundations.
Old jackwood flooring glows in the morning sun. Chinese pomegranates
sit on a Sri Lankan brass monk’s food stand on a nineteenth-century
jackwood pettagama or storage box. The modern china is made in Sri
Lankan.
No. 87
BENTOTA | ARCHITECT: GEOFFREY BAWA

A nineteenth-century oil press made of granite forms a centerpiece in the

forecourt of the small house. The activities of the household, including
alfresco dining, can spread out on to the gravel yard. From here, also, the
occupants can enjoy the early light that picks up the mist rising from the
lake and the marsh garden beyond.

No. 87, Galle Road, Bentota, was once a shop house facing the main road. It stood
across the road from another elegant two-story shop house of the same late
eighteenth-century vintage. Both were rescued from almost certain demolition and
oblivion by Lydia Duchini Gunasekera, an Italian sculptor. Together with Geoffrey
Bawa, the renowned architect whom she had met when he commissioned a
sculpture of a bishop to adorn the ground level of his classroom block at Bishop’s
College in Colombo, she set out on a mission to rescue the beautiful houses.
No. 87 was bought, along with the land behind it leading to the edge of a large
marsh. The house opposite was also bought, but carefully demolished and the
salvaged material used to reassemble the building at No. 87, but close to the Galle
Road. The single-story shop house was then turned in on the property and a large
pavilion added to house the artist’s studio, garages and staff quarters. Having been
through several incarnations with different owners, the present owner has lovingly
restored the buildings, housing within them an exceptional collection of artifacts,
and also added a marsh garden. He and his family now use No. 87 as an
occasional weekend retreat.
A long painted wall on the main road to Galle marks No. 87. Dark blue and
white gates open on to a heavily planted and shaded entrance court. The open
pavilion at the entrance is part garage, part dining area. At the far end is the
artist’s studio and a small elegantly furnished bar. From here the rest of the
buildings are revealed, centered around an old tamarind tree on the expansive
lawn. The two-story building across the lawn contains two bedrooms and a sitting
room on the ground floor with a gallery of early photographs by Sri Lankan Lionel
Wendt.
The second house sitting up against the Galle Road also contains two
bedrooms, but is also the formal dining area. A small kitchen and pantry are
attached and become a barrier between the main living spaces and the noise
emanating from the Galle Road.
Both houses are exquisitely reassembled from old parts, with the exception of
the large expanses of glass in the wall spaces between the doors and windows.
The ancient timber doors and windows are set in glass to allow the houses to be
better lit. Everywhere there is meticulous attention to detail in the restoration. At
the far end, the lawn ends in an open vista over a large lake and an expansive
garden fashioned out of the surrounding marsh.
Antique columns on the veranda of the small house frame a peaceful,
monochromatic garden bathed in late afternoon light.
The single-story house is framed by two huge bread-fruit trees
(Artocarpus incisa). The white walls stand in stark contrast to the gray
shingled roof, the stained wood window shutters and the green
surroundings.

Morning light streams in through an upper floor window in the second

house to light up ancient floor boards, a weathered nineteenth-century
timber bench and three framed photographs taken in 1935 by famed Sri
Lankan photographer Lionel Wendt. The white walls form a neutral canvas
for the play of light and shadow.
A seventeenth-century door framed in glass in the two-story second house
is an ideal place from which to view the marsh garden in the distance
through an antique brass telescope.
The Dutch House
GALLE | ARCHITECT: CHANNA DASWATTE

Late evening sun casts long shadows on the immaculate croquet lawn,
viewed from the veranda at the back of the house.

The Dutch House in Galle is part of a chain of bungalows that have been
converted into stylish inns along the south coast of Sri Lanka. Originally built as
Doorenberg (“Thorn Hill”) in 1712 during the period of Dutch East India
Company administration, the house may have served as a retirement residence or
country seat for an important official. From the front of the house, there are
breathtaking views of the old fort of the Galle Commadant and the sea beyond.
The owner, who already had a guest house on upper Dickson Road across
from Doorenberg, had always admired the crumbling old house that was for a long
time an orphanage run by the Anglican Church. With all the orphans grown up and
gone, the place was barely inhabited and in a dilapidated state. A proposition was
made to the local church authorities, agreement reached, and Doorenberg was then
beautifully restored to its present condition. In the restoration, period features of
Sri Lankan architecture were considered along with a healthy respect for the
almost Palladian proportions of the house. Ill-advised additions and partitions
made over the years were pulled down and the grand proportions of the house
revealed. An additional wing, now called The Ballroom, was added, in the
process creating a semi-enclosed courtyard looking out over a croquet lawn. A
small swimming pool was also added, but over the edge of the hill among the
trees, behind a stand of royal palms bordering the garden of the neighboring manor
house.
Doorenberg is now approached via a forecourt of red gravel and a low wall,
which reveals the magnificent view of the old town in the distance and provides a
fitting foreground to the simple and austere façade. A hedge of white hibiscus
forms a screen to the private gardens of the suites. The sparely furnished veranda
leads into the hallway with its seventeenth-century chairs and locally made brass
chandelier, a copy of one hanging in the old town hall in Cape Town.

A low cement wall borders the red gravel driveway to the house, here
graced by an early twentieth-century Rover convertible. The fort can be
seen in the distance through the trees.
The Ballroom suite, so-called because of its lofty proportions, is a modern
addition, but built along the same lines as the original old house. Dutch-
period doors and windows, salvaged from demolition sites, and Dutch
furniture give a period feel to the suite. Polished cement tiles echo the
pattern of the terracotta tiles found in the original house, which were
discovered upon excavation but were unusable due to years of neglect
and chipping when subsequent floors were laid.
Crisp cotton contrasts with soft linen in this bedroom. The four-poster bed
is of a seventeenth-century Indo-Portuguese design from Sri Lanka’s
Portuguese colonial period. The high bed head and end and the turned
wooden spindles are peculiar to the furniture of the time and were a mark
of fine craftsmanship. A comfortable sitting area adjoins the bedroom.
A similar four-poster bed dominates the bedroom of the Ballroom Suite.
Trade cloth hangings from the nineteenth century flank the door separating
the bedroom from the bathroom beyond. The oche palette is carried
throughout the house as are the polished pigmented floor tiles which were
based on the originals.
Light throws the curved forms into silhouette and bathes the bathroom of
the Ballroom Suite. The pigmented cement finished surfaces glow with a
welcoming warmth.
 The ambience of the interior has been achieved through a clever mix of
colonial furniture and practical modern designs. The muted palette of ochre,
derived from traditional wall finishes such as samara and lime wash, and the
faded yellow polished cement floor tiles give this house a truly peaceful feel.
Each room in the house has a different color scheme, inspired by paintings by
the old Dutch masters. The great silk full-height curtains in the bedrooms add
operatic grandeur befitting the proportions of the house. Old prints and modern
paintings hang side by side in all of the rooms.
Arriving guests are greeted by the all-female resident staff and treated with all
the care and attention reminiscent of a visit to a grandmother’s house!
In the bathroom in the Eastern Suite, a modern polished cement vanity top
inset with cement basins is juxtaposed with an antique bathtub on claw
legs. A typically Dutch curved wall at the far end conceals the shower and
toilet. An unusual feature in the bathroom is the window seat, which allows
the bather—or a companion— views of the garden or a place to sit and
chat.

The living room of the Western or Blue Suite opens out to the garden. A
copy of an eighteenth-century Wolfendahal chair (named after the church
in Colombo where they were used as pews) sits in front of a British-period
console that doubles as a writing desk. A colonial-period chaise longue,
covered in blue fabric, makes for comfortable lounging.
Mudannayake House
COLOMBO 7 | ARCHITECT: UNKNOWN

The symmetrical Ionic columned porte-cochere is typical of the grand

houses of the nineteenth century that lined the shaded avenues of the
elegant Cinnamon Gardens suburb of Colombo.

The Colombo suburb of Cinnamon Gardens was once a leafy paradise of low,
creeper-clad walls and generously sized gardens. Few of the houses in the area
have, however, survived the onslaught of modern political and economic
pressures. Those that have are most likely to be occupied by an embassy or be the
residence of a high-ranking diplomat. Among the most beautiful of all is the Prime
Minister’s office on Flower Road. Also on Flower Road is the Mudannayake
house, one which is still lived in by a family in the great tradition of British
colonial houses in Sri Lanka. Built in the early part of the twentieth century, the
house exemplifies the eclectic classical style which developed in the tropical
colonies. It has large verandas with seemingly Ionic columns but the architecture
is, in fact, an amalgam of colonial and local architectural traditions and
influences.
The entrance to the formally designed house is defined by a large porte-
cochere and a veranda bordered by large, gleaming white Tuscan columns and
balustrates. Dark-stained doors open off the veranda to a grand central hallway,
which forms the main reception areas, demarcated by more white columns.
Beyond the central hallway, a staircase leads to the upper floor. Cool marble
floors composed of large white slabs intersected at the corners with small black
squares form a continuous surface from the veranda right throughout the reception
areas. White painted walls and high ceilings add further to the open, spacious feel
of the ground floor of the house.
The upper floor houses most of the private spaces, such as bedrooms, although
a veranda overlooking the terrace over the porte-cochere is used as a dining area.
This space captures the essence of tropical living, with breezes from the lush
green front garden wafting throughout. All rooms, both upstairs and downstairs,
have verandas that provide shade from the sweltering tropical sun and protection
from the monsoon rains.
The ground-floor veranda is furnished with reclining wooden chairs and
white-painted cane furniture— both ubiquitous colonial accouterments.
A table set for a formal dinner party catches the light of the setting sun.
The profusion of palm trees and other tropical vegetation outside forms a
magical backdrop.

In complete contrast to the house’s commanding façade, its bold columns and
high ceilings, the furniture is fine and delicate, typical of that favored by the
British. The ground-floor entertainment rooms are furnished with classic ebony
furniture which is set off to good effect in the whiteness around. Simpler
hardwood furniture occupies the rest of the house, with some painted cane
furniture on the verandas. Collections of contemporary, mostly Sri Lankan, art
adorn the walls and add color to a muted palette.
The whiteness against the lush green, the cool marble floors and sparsely
furnished interior epitomize the classic colonial style of the British period. The
gracious proportions and simple planning lend colonial houses of this tradition a
calm, serene atmosphere.
The marble-floored veranda at the entrance to the house is sparsely
furnished with nineteenth-century style wooden chairs and white-painted
cane furniture. The lush vegetation surrounding the veranda provides a
cool contrast to the white building which sparkles in the bright sunshine.
Pink-hued terrazzo walls and floors are a perfect backdrop for a free-
standing green enamel bathtub. The elaborate gilt-painted legs and brass
taps add a touch of luxury.
The reception rooms are both spacious and gracefully appointed.
Heirloom ebony furniture, softly lit by the glow of crystal chandeliers, helps
to create an old-world charm. Potted palms and ceiling fans add to the
colonial air, while marble floors contribute to the timeless quality of the
rooms. The pot in the foreground is a fine example of seventeenth century
kitchenware exported from China and found in all centers along the sea
trade routes.
Horagolla Stables
NITTAMBUWA | ARCHITECT: GEOFFREY BAWA

A charming pavilion in the western garden marks the central axis of the
house. Although newly added to the house, it is composed of four old
columns and a door salvaged from an eighteenth-century Dutch-period
house.

The outward appearance of the stables at the old manor house at Horagolla on
Kandy Road is one of a well-proportioned and elegant classical manor. Originally
built to house the six thoroughbred horses of one of the highest native officials of
the land under the British colonial administration, Sir Solomon Bandaranaike,
whose family went on to dominate national politics for the better part of post-
independence Sri Lanka, the original buildings were built on a grand scale, with a
hayloft and quarters for grooms and others who looked after the animals. Politics
obviously did not leave the family much time for riding and the old stables fell
into disrepair. The magnificent building was saved in the nick of time by Sir
Soloman’s only grandchild not involved in politics. With the help of architect
Geoffrey Bawa, she carefully restored and converted the old stables into a
weekend retreat.
In the process of transformation, Bawa added a porch in the same design as
the rest of the house with a bedroom above, and a service wing, which also
contained an additional bedroom. The house is now approached through the
gardens of the old house along a narrow and chicaned carriageway bordered by
hibiscus. The main entrance under the porch leads into a hallway with a low roof,
lined with rubbings of the famous gal potha or stone book in the sacred rectangle
at Polonnaruwa, and then on into the main part of the house. A small stairway off
the hallway leads to a guest room over the entrance.

The oculus at the end of the entrance veranda focuses the attention on the
axial quality of the space.
An old clay pot used for salting fish makes a bold statement on a low
table made from a single plank of para mara (Samanea saman). Polished
cement floors provide a neutral backdrop in the original stall area, now the
main living room.

A small painted image of the Buddha from the Kandy period, surrounded
by a stylized halo, is one of the many artifacts from this period that are
part of the art collection in the living room and veranda.
The old horse stalls, still labeled with the names of their former occupants,
form the main living room of the converted stables. Clusters of
comfortable sofas and armchairs on the ground floor and in the former
hayloft are interspersed with well-chosen antiques. In the sitting area
here, a modern upholstered sofa is surrounded by black and white cane
chairs. Above, leather butterfly chairs are casually arranged in front of a
painting by Saskia Pingiers, flanked by a pair of satinwood and ebony
cupboards.

The half-round terracotta tiles that cover the veranda are visible through
the gaps in the traditional timber frame roof.
A painted panel, part of a nineteenth-century temple ceiling in the tradition
of the Kandyan school of painting, hangs over a sofa in the main veranda.
The colors and style of the painting, which depicts a narrative of one of
the birth stories of Buddha, are typical of the period.

Beyond the main house, a veranda wraps around two sides of an impeccably
kept lawn. This unites the old building on the left with the new wing on the right.
The veranda of the new wing contains a dining area, with a kitchen and other
service areas behind, and a guest room at one end. The veranda beside the old
wing ends in a circular hole in the wall matched by another on the porch wall that
sets up the main axis in the house. The horses’ accommodation in the old stable
was converted into a magnificent sitting room, and the quarters of the stable hands
and staff converted into two grand bedrooms and bathrooms. A veranda on the
other end leads into a second lawn with a garden pavilion.
An eighteenth-century column, reused in the garden pavilion on the
western lawn, comes from a roadside house which, like many others, has
given way to development.
An unusual ceiling panel from a temple depicting the Buddha in the
company of his disciples hangs over an eighteenth-century box in the main
veranda. The small bronze sculpture of Shiva astride his bull is by local
sculptor Tissa Ranasinghe.
An Artist’s Residence
GALLE | ARCHITECT: UNKNOWN

The tile-roofed, colonnaded house is almost hidden from view by the wild
garden with its profusion of fruit trees, palms and other tropical species.

The various colonial periods in Sri Lankan history exerted a tremendous influence
not only on civic architecture and the mansions of the colonial masters, but also on
the construction of country houses belonging to local gentry, which exhibited many
colonial traits along with local traditions. This may well have been deliberate or
merely because the builders and masons of the period simply built like that,
automatically incorporating a fusion of elements and styles from various periods.
These country houses were almost formulaic in plan, with a colonnaded
veranda in front leading to a large central hall bisected by an archway or two and
with two or four rooms opening off it. The back of the hall, in turn, opened on to
another veranda. The verandas and central hall all had high roofs, and above the
hall there was often a timber-boarded attic, which created a ceiling for the hall
below and provided the necessary insulation from the heat. A small stairway often
led into the attic for use as storage.

The pavilion amongst the trees is an extension of the attic. The far end is
covered in mats made from the talipot palm, providing easy and relaxed
seating.
The plain polished cement veranda, with its edge highlighted in white, is a
cool oasis in the midst of the surrounding vegetation. The extension, built
at right angles to the main axis of the house, is sometimes used for dining.
The hall is almost empty except for a single chaise longue against the
back wall. The old terracotta floor tiles are cool to the feet and are
comfortable enough to sit on. Fine muslin curtains over the doorways cut
the harsh glare of the sunlight.

One such house, located on a wooded hill outside Galle, is occupied by an

Italian artist. Set in a “wild” garden, the entrance veranda is bare except for a
table for reading or dining placed in an extension to the attic, built at right angles
to the house. Another local adaptation, a square Tuscan column with chamfered
edges, supports the deep eave and the upper-level extension. The hall is sparsely
furnished, accentuating the architecture and the importance of the two arches that
separate the space. The original terracotta floor tiles create a warm glow in the
otherwise white lime-plastered room. Four rooms open off this space, one with
access to the attic. A back veranda supported by simple wooden columns opens
out into the rear part of the garden.
The attic and its extension over the veranda act as both studio and meditation
space for the artist. Here, the low roof and soft light, the timber-framed roof and
exposed half-round tiles contribute to the intimate atmosphere, while the open
veranda extension allows for contemplation of the garden from above. The low
railings and mats encourage one to sit on the floor, as is the case in most other
parts of the house which have minimal formal furniture. The house is mostly
adorned with collections of paintings and objets d’art rather than functional
furniture and domesticity. The décor suggests simplicity of style with nothing but
the essentials coming between the enjoyment of the pure and elegant spaces of the
old house itself.
A small glass skylight inserted between the half-round roof tiles lights the
painted timber staircase leading to the office above.

A collection of seashells nestles in an old terracotta curd pot. The framed

nineteenth-century postcards show various views of old Ceylon.
The bed platform in the attic, draped with mosquito netting, is strategically
placed to enjoy the view along the whole length of the upper-floor
veranda. Two painted ceiling planks flank the doorway. A foot-stool and
reed mats are the only other furnishings on the veranda.
The study-studio in the attic is filled with soft, low lighting from both the
gaps in the tiles and the low windows. The boarded floor is unpolished. An
Indian kilim adds a touch of color to the otherwise neutral tones in the
room.
Iluketiya Bungalow
ILUKETIYA | ARCHITECT: CHAN SAU YAN

The hinterland of the south coast of Sri Lanka is an area of tropical verdure away
from the hustle and bustle of Galle Road and its ribbon of urban and suburban
sprawl. Here, life slows down to a pre-industrial pace.
Overlooking a small lake and paddy fields, and set among tranquil gardens
and the cinnamon plantations that are a part of this area, is Iluketiya, a bungalow
inspired by the simple dwellings of the small-scale farmers who own and work
the land. Although the bungalow is new, it draws its inspiration from several
indigenous forms, but also resolves some of the problems that these houses often
have, such as poor interior lighting and the lack of open large spaces that are
today considered necessary for modern living.
The materials used in constructing the house include traditional plastered
brick walls painted white on the inside and ochre on the outside. Half-round tiles
sit exposed on the rafters in the verandas and outside areas, but are hidden by
simple timber plank ceilings in the interior. Extensive use has been made of old
doors and windows salvaged from late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century Sri
Lanka houses. The house is also filled with numerous antiques, art and artifacts
from various parts of Asia.
Central to life in Iluketiya is a large, formal sitting room filled with an exotic
collection of sturdy bamboo furniture from Linda Garland in Bali, Chinese tapered
cabinets, modern steel coffee tables and quirky chandeliers. A Balinese painting
fills the end wall. Flooded with natural light, the room opens on three sides to the
tiled, colonnaded verandas that surround it and to profusely planted gardens and
long pools filled with lotuses and other water plants. Perforated wooden panels
above the paneled doors and the high roof not only provide decoration but also
allow natural ventilation and reduce glare, making the house remarkably cool in
the tropical heat. Groups of chairs on the veranda—as well as the stone steps
leading down to the ponds—provide ample seating for the occupants and their
visitors.
Stone steps lead to moat-like pools surrounding the living pavilion. Deep
verandas and eaves and surrounding vegetation, together with the water,
provide relief from the intense tropical heat. A brilliant bougainvillea adds a
splash of color.
Antique timber columns frame the greenery beyond this informal veranda
off the annex sitting room. The terracotta objects on the ledge are
contemporary Sri Lankan work based on ancient designs. The white
cement floor provides an effective contrast between inside and out.

The fourth (rear) side of the living room opens on to a courtyard, which links
it to the rest of the living quarters and the service areas of the house. Inspired by a
traditional courtyard, this one, however, is filled with water, with the soothing
sound of water trickling from an overflowing pot, its reflection adding beauty to
the pool. Bedrooms surround this courtyard. All the bedrooms, furnished with the
minimum of furniture, also open on to private views of the surrounding gardens.
Large doors and windows let in the scents and sounds of the tropics.
At the far end of the courtyard, a two-story entertainment annex opens up with
a double-height vestibule leading to an attic reached by a wooden staircase. The
attic comprises a spacious sitting room opening out to a veranda, and an adjoining
library and billiards room. The sitting area is furnished with a stunning Afghan
carpet and floor cushions covered in handwoven Baluchi rugs in bright tones of
fuchsia and pink, heightening the brilliance of the light spilling in through the
stained-glass window on the gable end of the room. The built-in seating on the
adjoining veranda is similarly furnished in pink. The billiards room off the main
seating area is more formally appointed. Chairs for watching play in progress line
the walls surrounding the central table. Both rooms, however, boast the same
beautiful views of the garden and countryside.
A stone-floored double-height vestibule is the entry point to the annex to
the main house. The wooden stairs, which are also from an old house,
lead to the light-filled attic and the library and billiards room beyond.
The attic leading to the library and billiards room is an informal sitting
area. The floor cushions, made from a collection of Baluchi rugs,
complement the Afghan carpet.

Sunlight streams into the billiards room on the upper floor. The windows
are recycled from an early twentieth-century colonial house. The
ventilation grilles of Victorian inspiration were very much a part of the Sri
Lankan architectural traditions of the period. The chairs and table are from
the same period. Terracotta ventilation roof tiles make unusual light fittings
on the wall.

The calm, quiet courtyard at the back of the house derives from a long Sri
Lankan architectural tradition, but is here filled with water. The edge is
made from a collection of old items as are the doors and columns. The
warm yellow polished terracotta walls have been painted with traditional
samara paint. The glazed terracotta pot was part of the East India
Company’s trade with the island’s ports during the seventeenth century.
The Hill Club
NUWARA ELIYA | ARCHITECT: EDWARDS, REID AND BEGG

Portraits of Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip and the Prince and
Princess of Wales flank that of the president of Sri Lanka and patron of
the club in the heavy-beamed reading room. The faux leather upholstered
chairs are based on a nineteenth-century design. The magazine rack and
newspaper stand are late Victorian.

Nowhere in Sri Lanka do the vestiges of colonial Britain live on as obviously as

in the hill country. The central massif, traditionally left bare of any settlement by
the indigenous population, was opened up for the cultivation of, first, coffee and
then tea from 1846. In 1860 Samuel Baker “discovered” the high valley of
Nuwara Eliya and established a farm in it. Many colonials, drawn by the healthier,
almost English climate that allowed for a lifestyle much akin to that of their distant
homeland, and Nuwara Eliya (“New-ralia” to the British, or “Little England” as it
is aptly referred to), came to resemble a little village from the home counties of
England. The plantation houses and holiday homes of those who flocked to the
hills during the warmest pre-monsoon months, including the governors of the day,
stand to this day amidst picturesque gardens full of sweet peas and gladioli,
shielded from the high winds by stands of Monterey cypress and eucalyptus trees.
By 1876 a club, that essential institution of British life, was founded and aptly
called the Hill Club, and by 1896 the second oldest golf club outside the British
Isles was established in the valley. Although much of the area’s charm has now
disappeared under post-colonial settlement and vegetable cultivation, the core of
the town in and around the Golf Club and the key institutions of the Hill Club, Golf
Club, St Andrew’s Hotel and Grand Hotel still remain as British as they were
when first established. The faded elegance of the Hill Club and Golf Club, with
their traditional fare of cheese toast and tea, epitomize the quintessential colonial
style of Sri Lanka.
The present Hill Club building dates from the 1930s when it was built by the
British, Colombo-based firm of Edwards, Reid and Begg in a Scottish baronial
style in local dressed granite. Its imposing presence is enhanced by its location on
a hill overlooking the golf course and its own expansive lawns, bordered by
flower beds and scattered with umbrella-shaded tables and chairs where one can
enjoy an English afternoon tea.
The Scottish baronial-style Hill Club was built in the 1930s by the colonial
architectural firm of Edwards, Reid and Begg. Locally sourced stone and
fake timbering lend appropriate dignity to the club.

Chintz-covered sofas and armchairs and gilt-framed pictures provide the

reassurance of a home county living room.
Starched white, brass-buttoned jackets and crisp white sarongs are the
uniform for the stewards in the high-beamed dining room. Furnished with
basic utilitarian nineteenth-century colonial chairs, comfort above beauty
was more important in the club. The room is lent an air of sophistication
by the immaculate white table linen and candles. It is still de rigueur for
men to wear a tie and jacket at dinner.

The interior of the Hill Club is an eclectic mixture of practical furnishings

surviving from the different periods of its existence, together with the trappings
associated with the British hill station lifestyle: fireplaces, mounted hunting
trophies, framed portraits and scenes and vases of temperate flowers. The dark
wood of the floors and furniture contribute to the club’s grand appearance.
The stone porch in front of the club leads into a large hallway. The men’s bar
opens directly off this space, as does the library. These are distinctly masculine
spaces originally meant for the all-male club—only in the twentieth century were
ladies allowed into the club through the main entrance. A long corridor at the far
side of the entrance hall connects the other spaces, including the billiards room,
dining room and lounge.
A fishing trophy (above) from the time when the streams and lakes around
Nuwara Eliya were well stocked with rainbow trout introduced by the
British in the nineteenth century. Old aerated water bottles (below) adorn
a self in the dining room.
Red oxide floors contrast with the green baize of the nineteenth-century
billiard table and the basic teak furniture. The white ceiling with painted
copper panels is common in many colonial buildings in the hill country.
Sturdy teak beds complete with feather duvets and hot water bottles
welcome guests in the spacious bedrooms. The beds and scroll-legged
side tables are all of late nineteenth-century British colonial design. The
teak floor-boards are covered with a well-worn carpet.
Galapita
BUTTALA | ARCHITECT: RUKMAN FONSEKA

The skull and horns of an Axis deer adorning the wall does double duty as
a coat hook.

The southeastern corner of Sri Lanka is linked to the sacred site of Kataragama,
the abode of Sri Skanda, the God of War, and a classic pilgrimage shrine, second
only to that of the Scared Mountain of Adam’s Peak. The area is linked with
remoteness and mystery associated with the god and his dalliances with a local
Veddah maiden, Valli Amman. Here, the last vestiges of a pastoral and a hunter-
gatherer culture still survive amidst the magnificent backdrop of the southern
foothills and the plains that lead to the east coast. Here also, this far-flung corner
of the island has, through its sheer inaccessibility, been spared the often
unforgiving ravages of development.
 A little way up the Menik Ganga, the river on which Sri Skanda’s shrine is
founded, is an island reached via a rope bridge across the rocky ravine of the
swiftly flowing river (swift, at least, during the monsoon). On one side of the
island the river emerges as a placid, tranquil and shallow, stone-bottomed stream
shaded by massive kumbuk (Terminalia arjuna) trees. Beyond, on top of the
island’s rocks stands Galapita, literally “on top of the rock,” a highly original
“natural” retreat.
A series of simple open pavilions are built on and around the rocks on the
island using the traditional methods of wattle-and-daub construction. On the
highest part is the sleeping pavilion. Mud platform steps go down the slope of the
rock, allowing different levels on which to sleep, usually on thin mattresses laid
on reed mats. On the lowest level, an antique four-poster bed under a high roof
gives the impression of sleeping outside.
The dining pavilion is set on the ground level using part of the high rock as a
sheltering wall, but otherwise is totally open to the elements. On the upper part of
this pavilion, on level with the sleeping area on the rock, is another special
sleeping space reached by a rustic stepladder. Here, bamboo and coconut ekel
blinds provide privacy in a space that is otherwise totally open to the sky. A
similar sleeping area is made in a traditional tree house pavilion in the paddy
fields surrounding the property on the banks of the river. Bathrooms and toilets are
set apart from the main living areas behind stone walls for privacy. The outdoor
shower spouts make bathing under the canopy of leaves a natural and romantic
experience.
An elephant vahanam of the God Vibhishan or Saman stands guard at an
entrance. These wooden animals were used as part of the ritual of Hindu
temples in which images of the gods were taken in procession atop their
respective mounts.
A driftwood table is the centerpiece of the main sitting area, a wonderful
setting for resting, talking and savoring nature. Mud and cow dung floors,
molded into platforms for seating and covered with mats and colorful
cushions, meld with the surrounding landscape, making it hard to
distinguish between interior and exterior. The old Dutch planters’ chairs
add a touch of luxury!

A hand-molded goddess stands sentinel at the entrance to this sleeping

pavilion overlooking the swift-flowing river.
The main sleeping pavilion consists of mud- and cow dung-plastered
platforms covered with talipot palm-leaf mats on which are laid thin cotton
mattresses. Hammocks are an option to sleeping on the platform.
Mosquito nets, for use when necessary, are suspended from jungle poles,
while bamboo and reed blinds can be lowered to form “walls.”
The main sleeping pavilion sits atop the rock overlooking the Menik
Ganga.
Paddy fields bordering the Menik Ganga contribute to the quiet and
tranquil atmosphere of the retreat in this remote southeastern corner of
Sri Lanka.
The wattle-and-daub kitchen is built in the style of a traditional firewood
kitchen, complete with smoke racks for keeping things dry. The rice
winnowing trays hanging above the fireplace are used to clean rice and
other grains before they are cooked.
Striking silhouettes of Galle Fort from the Cinnamon House (page 92).
A colorful collection of cushions covered in hand-loom fabric from Barefoot
makes a lively setting for a blue glass Indian candle stand in the Galle
Face Court Dome (page 74).

“All the world’s a stage”

—William Shakespeare

he caravans and ocean vessels of old linked East and West along the
T interconnected routes of the great land and sea Silk Road. Silks and other
precious commodities from China were carried across the deserts and mountains
of southern Asia to the markets of Asia Minor, northern Africa and other points,
and in exchange artifacts found their way back to China. Arab traders dominated
the ocean space, which stretched from southern China to Zanzibar to Batavia,
carrying anything from rubies to spices to apes. Sri Lanka, referred to by Arabs as
Serendib, occupied the center of this ocean space and functioned as an entrepôt, a
place for the exchange of mysterious goods and mystic ideas, a place where Arab
and Chinese boats met.
Although these exchanges were significant for the development and flowering
of the great civilizations of the world, as well as for laying the foundations of our
modern world, no other age has been more synonymous with the exchange and
availability of ideas and information than the late twentieth century. Global
communications, coupled with the ability to transport goods with ease across
great distances, have created a culture that is sometimes hard to distinguish by its
geographical location alone. This is particularly apparent in the global style in
interiors and living styles that prevail around the world. Sri Lanka has not
escaped this global thrust, and at various stages of its stylistic development,
eclecticism has come into play in the life and style of its people. While a fusion of
global influences and their assimilation with traditional styles and attitudes is the
cornerstone of Sri Lankan style, the eclecticism that has emerged is different in
that it allows the products of various cultures and civilizations to co-exist within
the same space, sometimes harmoniously and sometimes discordantly, but always
amusingly.
A marble bust sits on an eighteenth-century jack-wood almirah made from
single planks of wood in the dining room of the Cinnamon House (page
92). The base of the bust is turned coconut wood.

Long poles draped with the owner’s collection of exotic textiles, among
them Indonesian batik, are a focal point on the wall in the master bedroom
in the house on 79, Leyn Baan Street (page 98). The bed at the end is
built into the wall as a timber platform and hung with a mosquito net.

Eclecticism in style derives from exposure to the various cultures of the

world, often at first hand, and an appreciation of each object in itself. Each is seen
to have its own merit in terms of beauty and enjoyment and is not subservient to
another. Tableau are created using various objects, and in the best examples the
whole atmosphere celebrates a place or event. Well-traveled and informed
individuals create places for relaxation and enjoyment that are global in focus and
bring into play numerous ideas and objects that they have seen and gathered that
represent their experiences. The world is inspiration and a stage is set for its
celebration.
There is, in fact, a long tradition of eclecticism in interiors and architecture in
Sri Lanka, stemming partly from its long history of rule by various colonial
powers but also from the rise of an affluent middle class under British rule.
Success in business and enterprise and the global reach of the empire that
included Sri Lanka, then Ceylon, gave rise to a well-traveled group of citizens
who returned home with various luxury goods as mementoes of their journeys.
These invariably found a place in their homes. Many mid-century Sri Lankan
houses were full of objects from various stylistic and artistic traditions. Art Deco
was at home with Victorian and Chinese porcelain. Ivory miniatures sat alongside
Lalique glass under Venetian chandeliers lighting up Persian carpets. In
architecture, buildings such as Lakshmigiri and College House in Colombo, both
built by the De Soysa family, aimed at emulating an eclectic Italianate style
inspired by the fancy dress ball of styles then happening in Britain, whilst others
copied Oriental or Moorish palaces from their experiences in Andalusia. This
innate need to emulate other cultures was also reflected in the clothes people
wore and the attitudes they adopted. Photographs in Arnold Wright’s monumental
Twentieth Century Impressions of Ceylon (1907) show pictures of eminent Sri
Lankan families amidst the treasures they gathered and in the clothes they wore,
witness to their eclectic tastes and experiences.
The current trend towards eclecticism in Sri Lanka stems from the opening of
the island’s economy in 1977 and the subsequent free flow of ideas and objects.
The fact that Sri Lankans travel abroad more frequently and that the country is
home to numerous well-traveled expatriates, has also brought about a sea change
in the contemporary design styles of interiors. Design stores, too, importing
objects of desire for a population exposed to a wide range of ideas and thoughts
through the media, have also contributed to changing attitudes in design and
lifestyle.
The perfect circle of the polished cement bathtub in the master bathroom
of the Eden House (page 104) is backed by a delicately covered window
and two Chinese bamboo ladders used as towel racks. The teak floor
forms a “carpet” beneath the tub.
Galle Face Court Dome
COLOMBO 3 | ARCHITECT: EDWARDS, REID AND BEGG

Late afternoon sun streams into the sparse main living space with its
minimal built-in furniture. A specially woven rush mat creates softness
underfoot and provides a warm ambience in the mostly white room.

The dome of the Galle Face Court Apartment enjoys one of the most stunning
settings of any residence in Colombo. Located on the southeastern corner of the
main public space of the city, it is not for the weak-hearted. The magnificent
saucer dome, inspired perhaps by Hagia Sophia itself, has an almost sacred
presence, the repository of some high-powered relic. Perhaps it is for this reason
that it was occupied for years only by the workshop of a jeweler until the present
occupant convinced the owners of the apartment building to lease the space to
him. The process took time, but eventually the craftsman moved out.
The residence comprises simply the circular room under the saucer-shaped
dome of the stunning Art Deco building built by the firm Edwards, Reid and Begg
in 1934. Approached from the elevator hall below, the first sight of the inside of
the dome is nothing short of breathtaking. The original white smooth-finished
surface has been given a fabric tent. More recently, the tent has given way to light
projections of images on to it, creating a stunning effect. With the polished white
cement floors there is a feeling of lightness and freedom. The rails of the curved
stairs bend down to the floor as if in homage to the space!
The imposing Art Deco entrance staircase leading up to the tented dome,
its teak railings curving down to the floor, confers a striking sense of entry.
The kitchen is sandwiched between two pillar extensions, its built-in
polished terrazzo countertop and teak-stripped cupboards adding style
and color to the arc. A dining table is built on the end of one of the
extensions.

Behind the grand staircase, with its sturdy teak railings, an imposing wooden
mask takes pride of place in a niche. In the round interior, the dome’s supporting
pillars demarcate certain functions. Minor extensions to the pillars have created a
niche for the library on one side of the staircase and, adjoining it, a small, arc-
shaped kitchen appointed in wood. A built-in sofa between two pillars takes up
another side of the space. The rest of the main space, which is dominated by a
large circular rush mat, a red-lacquered Chinese cabinet and a platform bed,
serves a variety of functions: as sitting room, dining room, guest room, or simply a
relaxing place to lounge.
To the left of the stairway, and up a few steps, is a small bedroom and
bathroom that have been built on the adjoining roof terrace. A platform bed, a
small table to work at a computer, a cupboard and a ladder placed against a wall
to hang sarongs make up the furniture. This apartment is any person’s dream
location and space, but to live in it requires a rare eclectic skill!
The saucer-shaped dome from the bedroom terrace.
Late evening sun paints a wall in the bedroom in several shades of color.
The tented ceiling soars up to the apex of the main space.
The spare bedroom is an extension on an adjoining roof terrace. The
owner’s collection of sarongs is draped on a bamboo ladder. A small
workspace is created with a nineteenth-century colonial table and an
antique Chinese horseshoe back chair. Simple cement cubes form handy
bedside tables.
The specially made rush mat dominates the center of the dome. Adding
touches of color are bright blue cushions on the built-in sofa and a
handsome Chinese red-lacquered cabinet with a bold brass lock. Artifacts
from various parts of Asia adorn the top of the cupboard and pillar
extension.
Lighthouse Street House
GALLE FORT | ARCHITECT: RANJAN ALUVIHARE

Like many other houses in the city of Galle, No. 41 is at its core a modest house
built during the eighteenth-century Dutch period when the city was for almost a
hundred years the capital of the Galle Commandant, or the southern province of
the Dutch possessions of what was then Ceylon. Modified over time, particularly
in the nineteenth century, the most recent renovations have been done to create a
second home for a young bachelor who required a place to “chill out” with his
friends. The core of the original house has been converted into the main reception
room and an entirely new building has been added where the old dilapidated staff
and service wing used to be, to house the bedrooms.
Entrance to the house, deceptively modest from the outside, is via a black-and-
white tiled veranda enclosed by a low wall set with swing gates. On the wall is a
series of timber columns supporting both the roof and a simple latticework screen
that helps cut out the evening sun and the prying eyes of passersby. From the plain,
but unusual front doors, a colonnaded entrance hall leads to the formal sitting and
dining room and the patio and swimming pool in the inner court. Early wrought-
iron grilles below timber-lined skylights cast shadows on the black-and-white
tiled floors of the entrance hall, lit at night by an old carriage lamp. To the left of
the entrance hall, through the colonnade, in what would have originally been one
of two front bedrooms is a billiards room and bar, and to the right a quiet room for
meditation. The original zaal, the long room facing the courtyard, is used on the
left end as a sitting room and on the right as a dining room.
The main living space is, however, the courtyard on which most of the
attention in the renovation was lavished. A large swimming pool is the
centrepiece of this space. The pool occupies most of the yard except for a small
area at the far end, next to the house, where a timber pergola, which will
eventually be a bower of magenta bougainvillea, is an attractive area for alfresco
dining. The courtyard gives the impression of a great water court, with fountains
gurgling out of the cement pots that mark the steps into the pool.
Late evening light reflects off the pool, enhancing the water theme of the
courtyard and the honey color of the timber columns. The latticework
theme of the front entrance is carried through to the windows and doors in
the new wing.
The grilled skylights above the entrance hall offset the cool dark spaces
around them. The checkered floor and archways evoke nostalgic images
of times gone by.

The billiards room and bar, off the entrance hall, are part of the old
structure and are in the front of the house. A mirrored alcove helps to
create an illusion of space in this otherwise small room. The black-and-
white tiled floor is a continuation of the entrance hall.
A view of the hallway from the front door through to the courtyard at the
back.
Late afternoon light casts interesting patterns on the walls of the narrow
outer veranda. The latticework screens between the veranda posts afford
transparency as well as privacy. The distressed blue paint on the
latticework and the nineteenth-century louver shutters—still in working
condition—was inspired by a color often found on colonial roadside
houses.
The meditation room at the front of the house is sparsely furnished with
simple wood furniture resting on pale bleached cement floor tiles. A large
mirror behind a stone Buddha image from Indonesia and the soft light give
the space an aura of quiet introspection. A large Burmese lacquer work
tray sits atop the coffee table in front of the Indonesian day bed.
The long hall, the original zaal in the old Dutch house, is now the main
living and dining room. A simple teak table and chairs make up the formal
dining suite, which is adorned with contemporary Sri Lankan and Balinese
paintings. An Indonesian kitchen cabinet glows next to two cane light
fittings at the end of the sitting room, on pale bleached cement floor tiles.
The black-and-white floor theme is continued in the cushions on a bench at
one end of the living area and in the table napkins.

The courtyard at the back is occupied almost entirely by a swimming pool.

The atmosphere of a water garden is highlighted by the sound of water
overflowing from the large pots that mark the steps into the pool.
The street entrance to the house is through a simple gate. The latticework
trellis, though newly made, was inspired by nineteenth-century houses
abutting the street—as was the distressed blue paintwork.

On one side of the courtyard is the two-story building that has been built on the
site of what must have been the original service wing of this modest house, and on
the other the ochre-painted wall of the adjoining property. The new wing houses
some of the service areas and the main bedrooms of the house. The addition is
clearly modern but respects the proportions and style of the Dutch-period original
building with which it shares the site.
The house is furnished with an eclectic mix of simple modern furniture and the
occasional piece purchased from other parts of the world, as well as Sri Lankan
art. Un-cluttered and without fuss, the house is a truly relaxing retreat for the busy
owner.
Sharing space with the pool—the main focus of the inner courtyard—the
bedroom and service wing and the dining pergola are supported by muted
wooden posts, contributing to the atmosphere of tranquility and peace.
Galle Face Court Apartment
COLOMBO 3 | ARCHITECT: EDWARDS, REID AND BEGG

The Galle Face Court was built in 1934 by the Marckan Marker family in the heart
of Colombo, overlooking the green that is the main public space of the city. Built
in an age of largesse, the apartments have high ceilings and generously sized
rooms—certainly of a size larger than most contemporary houses in Colombo!
Most of the apartments boast magnificent views of the city, especially the ones on
the upper floors and those facing north, which overlook the gardens of the Taj
Samudra Hotel and the Galle Face Green. The building itself was designed and
built by Edwards, Reid and Begg, British architects practicing in Sri Lanka, who
introduced a liberal blend of Byzantine detailing. A second Galle Face Court was
built a little later and is equally elegant and spacious.
The apartment shown here is located on the top floor of the building. In
decorating it, the owners opted for an eclectic mix of old and new infused with a
decidedly contemporary approach to color inspired by the brilliant hues of Sri
Lankan culture. The result is a home that is vibrant and earthy, yet stylish and
practical.
Each room is done out in a different color theme, which sets the mood of the
space. In the context of the whole, these brilliant colors are used in a clever way.
Viewed from one direction, the main rooms are a soothing white. The white-
painted exposed roof structure, composed of iron trusses and boarded ceiling,
lends height and air to the space and plays a unifying role. In the other direction,
viewed from the dining room, the spaces are alive with color, the warm red of the
dining room contrasting with the bright ochre in the distant lounge. The polished
teak floor, with tinges of both colors, unifies the whole.
The fiery red walls of the dining room are in dramatic contrast to the
neutral white of the main sitting room. Beyond, the ochre walls of the
anteroom add further fire to the décor. The original 1930s fanlights are
echoed in the broad archways separating the almost open-plan space.
A modified corner version of a traditional colonial-period couch is piled
with cushions in vibrant hand-woven cotton fabrics designed by Barbara
Sansoni of Barefoot. The design fabric shop has been an inspiration to
many for color and style in contemporary Sri Lanka.

Gilt-framed mirrors reflect the brilliantly colored walls in the dining room
and anteroom beyond, forming changing works of art. The round table is
surrounded by dining chairs after a design by Frank Lloyd Wright, but
made from Sri Lankan timber by local craftsmen. The sideboard is 1930s,
as is the original fan from the building.
Vermilion walls surround an original 1930s fanlight. In a corner of the ante-
room, green dracaena leaves contrast with pink and orange paintwork.
Late evening sun paints a wall in several shades of color in the bedroom.
A small brass Buddha image in the seventeenth-century Kandyan style sits
amid offerings of river stones and orchids on a table in the sitting room.

The entrance to the apartment is up a flight of stairs and along an entrance hall
furnished with picture stands supporting paintings of local life by British artist
Alex Stewart. The stands and the lighting give the impression of an art gallery.
Bright light enters the hallway through a wall of glass blocks installed at one end.
The rest of the furniture is kept to a minimum. In the anteroom to the living
room, a simplified and modified copy of a traditional wooden sofa is piled with
cushions in brilliant hues. The sitting room is furnished with simple white cotton-
covered sofas and the dining room with a solid round wooden table and
reproductions of a 1930s Frank Lloyd Wright chair. Gilt-framed mirrors hung
above the sideboard reflect the colors of the walls behind, almost as though they
were constantly changing contemporary paintings! Strong lines and a rich riot of
color make for a décor that is both fun and practical.
The Cinnamon House
GALLE FORT | ARCHITECT: ROHAN JAYAKODY

No. 41, Lighthouse Street was once a large house in the Fort of Galle with the
typical plan of veranda, front rooms, hall, back veranda and service rooms along
one side of the back courtyard garden. Like many others of its type, various
reasons led it to being subdivided by its owners, and the division was made by
simply drawing a line on the survey plan of the site and building a wall across.
The land was divided with bitter consequences for the beautiful house. One half
was left with a miniscule courtyard and all the service buildings while the other
was left with a part of the front section and no service areas.
Most people would have demolished the whole building and built a separate
and more convenient house on the miniscule 2476 square feet (230 square meters)
of land. To the present owner, however, this was a wonderful opportunity to own
a pied-à-terre in the Fort at a time when property prices were spiraling. This fact
had been overlooked by many prospective buyers, simply because the property
was incomplete. But with a little bit of ingenuity and some physical extension, a
charmingly eclectic residence has been created from “the half with a part of the
front section.” The front of the house was renovated and a new and distinctive,
albeit small, entrance created opening out on to Lighthouse Street. The large front
room was turned into the entrance hall and the back room converted into a small
reception area. Beyond this is sheer fantasy—a unique spatial experience that is
anything but a conventional house!
A small courtyard between the existing structure and the extension is thickly
planted with bamboo, banana trees and a coconut palm! From this courtyard, a
steep staircase leads up to a bedroom and bar above, with the possibility of
accessing further terraces and rooftop gardens beyond. At ground level, the stone
paving of the courtyard continues uninterrupted through the whole site, inside and
outside, to reach the slightly elevated back garden. The nearer section of the
covered area is arranged as a sitting area and the section closer to the courtyard as
a dining area. A steep flight of antique wooden stairs leads to a bedroom on a
mezzanine above the dining area.
 This whole house is almost like a bazaar, filled with a fascinating cornucopia
of artifacts and memorabilia amassed from a lifetime of avid collecting. Anything
and everything that seems to relate together is arranged with no restraint,
sometimes bordering on deliberate vulgarity! The resulting experience is the
epitome of delightful eclecticism.

Dusk brings out the fire-light on the rooftop terrace, accessed via a
staircase from the back terrace.
A stone bowl embedded in the floor is strewn with fresh flowers as a
gesture of welcome in this decidedly medieval entrance hall. A collection
of hunting trophies fill the walls above the door and the arch. An exquisite
eighteenth century trade cloth with a tree of life motif hangs above a
grouping of old Dutch-period boxes. Standing sentinel in a corner of the
hall is an ashva vahanam or horse chariot discarded from a Hindu temple.
The unusual fan-light in the door has been created around a central crystal
sphere.
Chinese ancestral portraits mirror the Sri Lankan ones on the opposite
wall in the lounge area.

Guests are greeted by a collection of trophy heads on the walls above

both door and arch. Most are made of wood but with real antlers
attached. Here, the almost paired wooden heads display antlers of the
spotted deer, which sheds them annually to grow new ones. The buffalo’s
head is the work of an early taxidermist, as are the two heads of female
sambar on either side of it.
The brass candelabra in the lounge area was made by local craftsmen
from-drawings of the eighteenth-century original. Above the linen-covered
sofa, ancestral portraits of important personages in the colonial
administration are mixed with nineteenth-century prints of cupids and
allegorical scenes of love and retribution, together with a Lionel Wendt
photograph of the sunset. The old carpet below the coffee table picks up
the red in the ancestral portraits in the otherwise ochre area.

From the back garden, a steep staircase leads to a terrace outside the
main bedroom, also accessible from the bar in the front, and above this a
roof terrace offering stunning views over the rooftops of the old fort city of
Galle.
Entrance is through an old door with an unusual fan-light incorporating a
crystal ball. The writing over the door, honi soit qui maly pense, means
“shame to who thinks ill of this.” Miniature banana palms in ceramic pots
flank the door.
The dining area overlooks the courtyard garden at the back, bordered by
a high wall of laterite blocks. The warm honey-colored glow of the stone
harmonizes with the traditional samara color of the whole building and the
old granite block floor laid throughout the ground floor. The stairs on the
side lead up to a second bedroom on a mezzanine above the dining area.
The fretwork doors set into the back wall screen an outdoor bathing area.
The marble portrait bust atop an eighteenth-century cupboard in the dining
area is but one of the numerous fascinating artifacts that add interest to
the house.
79, Leyn Baan Street
GALLE FORT | DESIGNER: OLIVIA RICHLEY

The old fort city of Galle has seen a long line and miscellany of residents, some of
whom came as invaders and others as traders and investors. Most stayed on for a
time and left their mark on the houses and buildings they constructed. The original
Portuguese builders of the fort as well as the later Dutch, British and Asian
invaders and traders left indelible traces of their tastes and styles in an incredible
variety of buildings within the walls of the old fort. Nowhere in Sri Lanka is this
built history of the colonial and even the immediate post-colonial periods more
clearly visible than here.
The house at No. 79, Leyn Baan Street is a late nineteenth-century British-
period restoration on an eighteenth-century Dutch plan, further restored for ease of
contemporary living in the early twenty-first century. During the restoration, great
care was taken to highlight wherever possible the original splendor of the house’s
stained-glass doors and antique terracotta tiles. Where this was not always
possible, sensitive alternatives have been blended in to make the house both
comfortable and convenient.
Following the plan of the classic Dutch town house, the formal entrance is
through a veranda at the front of the house. A solid wood-paneled and stained-
glass door opens into a hall or zaal with two spaces on either side, one used as a
formal dining room and the other as a sitting room. Beyond the hall, demarcated
by an arched doorway and arched windows, is an in-between space that formed
the back veranda to the original building. This opens into a back area now
occupied by two buildings. On one side is the original eighteenth-century single-
story staff and service wing and on the other a two-story wing added possibly in
the late nineteenth century. The upper floor of this wing is now entirely taken up
by the owner’s bedroom. The two wings flank a very thin courtyard now occupied
by a long pond with stone receptacles brimming with water. A later addition of a
roof terrace, accessible from the back garden, and the gallery of the upper floor of
the bedroom overlook the ancient rampart and modern lighthouse.
The terrace outside the master bedroom is sheltered by a bamboo and
timber frame. The cotton-covered bed is the perfect spot for an afternoon
siesta cooled by the breezes that blow in from the nearby Indian Ocean.

The upper-floor gallery outside the master bedroom is constructed from

fine timber members and overlooks the half-round tiled roofs of the
surrounding buildings.

A massive teakwood table from Indonesia occupies the dining end of the
hall. Indonesian and Sri Lankan textiles form a colorful backdrop to
memorabilia on the cement sideboard at the far end.
The hall opens into an in-between space that was formerly the old
veranda to the original back garden, now occupied by a building from the
nineteenth-century renovation. Sri Lankan stag heads guard the access to
the rear courtyard, filled with a long pond with overflowing stone
receptacles.

The decoration in the interior is suitably eclectic, reflecting the owner’s

sojourns in other countries and her artistic taste. However, the furniture and
effects are arranged and used in such a way as to exude the grace of an old
colonial home. The formal sitting area at one end of the main hall is decorated
with a mixture of comfortable seats, while a massive rustic teakwood dining table
from Indonesia dominates the other end. The white- painted floors in this room,
along with glass skylights, compensate for the loss of light brought about by the
second building in the courtyard and gives the room the appearance of an outside
space in itself. The small but comfortable bedrooms are decorated in a variety of
styles with collections gathered over many years of travel.
A garage door made from old timber door sashes forms a fascinating
entrance from the back street on the ancient rampart.
A terrazzo bathtub in one of the guest bedrooms is framed by a highly
decorative stained-glass window from the British-period restoration. The
terracotta floor tiles are part of the original Dutch house.
The master bed, covered with many layers of exotic cloth and draped with
mosquito netting, catches the breezes from the Indian Ocean. The stark
white lighthouse and ramparts are visible through the window on the right.
Eden House
GALLE FORT | ARCHITECT: RANJAN ALUVIHARE

Eden House in the Fort of Galle is as flamboyant and full of joie de vivre as its
owners. The house is a celebration—an eclectic stage set—of travel and
experience and sensuality that is only possible in the tropics. Redolent of journeys
to the East, it is indeed in the East and at the heart of one of the great entrepôts of
trade up to the seventeenth century. It is a fantasy brought to life!
The house, located in the original market square of Galle, is entered through a
small courtyard off the street. A simple veranda leads to the dramatic entrance
hall, reminiscent of some great Moroccan kasbah. The vaulted ceiling is softly and
mysteriously lit from a cornice above. Portraits of long-dead and living relatives
line the walls, in the style of an English country house. In the main body of the old
house is a kitchen that swerves out into a dining room in one of the wings. This
space, too, evokes the mysteries and romance of the Mediterranean through a
trompe l’oeil of a stone-lined courtyard complete with a Spanish orange tree! A
sitting room occupies the other part of the old house.
It is at the back of the house, however, that the owners have given full rein to
their fantasies. Here, the two wings flanking the space are a fantastic evocation of
a Moroccan courtyard. Plain plaster columns are brought to life by trellised
arches that glow at night from concealed lighting. An ornate wrought-iron
balustrade, protruding half-round roof tiles and brick paving laid in a herring-
bone pattern add to the flamboyant ambience. An ancient mango tree and a coconut
palm add a green twist. Pale flagstone flooring under the colonnades and muted
walls make the space appear much bigger than it actually is. The upper level of
one wing is a flat-roof terrace on which an industrial chimney camouflages a
water tower. The rooms on the upper floor of the other wing are reached by a
circular staircase and a long veranda.
The house is filled with a variety of furniture and artifacts gathered from
various experiences and existences that the owners have had: China, Morocco, the
United Kingdom, India and Indonesia are all represented. Objects and colors are
thrown together with gay abandon but come together in an amusing and pleasing
way, contributing to a style of decoration that is as eclectic as any to be seen.

The Moroccan style of the courtyard derives from pointed arches

fashioned from timber latticework. Lighting adds romantic glamor to the
space.
The flat-roofed terrace above the dining room is an ideal location for
entertaining under the stars. The “chimney” near by hides the water tank.
On the opposite wing, a balcony with an ornate wrought-iron balustrade
leads to the bedrooms.
The kitchen area is an integral part of the main living area. Here, the
counters are made from solid antique timber. Adding interest is an old
window adopted as a spice cupboard, and a set of billiard table lights
hanging above the cooking area. Open shelves are filled with kitchenware
and a miscellany of items.
An Indonesian day bed with silk throw cushions in part of the sitting room
next to the kitchen. The contemporary paintings are by Sri Lankan artists.
The lamp on the ledge is made from an upturned antique betel nut tray
dressed in a modern cotton shade. In another part of the sitting room,
bric-a-brac and other objects surround an armchair made of water
hyacinth stems. Gracing the floor is a tribal rug possibly from Afghanistan
via Pakistan. An old door from a Hindu household in the north finds new
life at the entrance to the house and is flanked by two magnificent brass
roof finials, also from the north. The spiral staircase to the bedroom wing
is made from railway sleepers affixed to a concrete column.

A trompe l’oeil of a Mediterranean courtyard forms a highly unusual

backdrop in the dining room, which is lit by a skylight from the terrace
above. Solid Indonesian benches form the main seating on either side of a
long teakwood table adorned with Burmese lacquerware and a vase of
colorful flowers. A handsome nineteenth-century ebony and jack-wood
linen cupboard stands against the wall. The strong lines of the furniture
are softened with blue swabs and blue-and-white cushions.
Helga’s Folly
KANDY | ARCHITECT: MINETTE DE SILVA

The hills surrounding the medieval capital of Kandy are now dotted with
residences that take advantage of the spectacular view overlooking the lake and
the ancient Temple of the Tooth. Nestled in lush vegetation at the eastern end of
the lake, and set well above it, is what for a long time was known as the Chalet
Hotel. Now called Helga’s Folly, the modernist guest house, originally designed
by the owner’s aunt, Minette de Silva, in the 1960s, has been transformed into a
lush manifestation of an extraordinarily flamboyant and creative lifestyle. From
top to bottom, the guest house is a reflection of the theatrical tastes and eclectic
style of Helga, its owner.
Clues as to what awaits the visitor are apparent in the slightly overgrown road
and pathway to the guest house and the even more overgrown entranceway and car
park. The front entrance, almost hidden among a profusion of bougainvillea and
tumbergia, opens to a hall from whence begins a veritable Aladdin’s cave of
visual delight.
The hall inside the doorway, in what might once have been a small,
uninspiring room, now has the authority of a great hall. Large candlesticks,
overladen with years of dripping wax, offer welcome. Dark walls create a sense
of cave-like mystery. Above all, no space or surface is left untouched. Inspired by
the rich textures and colors of the Kandyan landscape, every nook is a new
discovery that delights the senses, and every step must be taken carefully lest one
loses oneself in the myriad objects and the experiences they recall. Exquisite
antiques vie for attention with basketfuls of plastic flowers. Modernist paintings
from the 43rd Group hang on walls papered with pages from the gossip columns.
The adjoining salon on the ground floor opens out to a lushly planted garden
through large French windows. Here, Art Deco carpets and early 1930s furniture
are juxtaposed with ornately carved late Dutch-period cupboards. Walls are hung
with a profusion of graphic art, collections of stag horns and antique spears. The
predominant colors of ochre and red team up with the dark furniture to create a
warm and comfortable ambience.

Upstairs, the red dining room at the far end is reached through a
whimsical ceremonial arch of shy cherubs. In the blue dining room in the
foreground, family photos are hung over an allegorical landscape. Teak
flooring unites the two spaces.
The salon opens to the garden through fiery red doors. The nineteenth-
century cupboard, the classic Galle almirah, here with decorative ebony
trimmings and embellishments, stands in marked contrast to the simple
teak 1950s living room set adorned with brilliantly hued silk cushions. On
the walls, a fine collection of Kandyan spears vies with an assortment of
paintings, puppets, pots and other items, including timber deer heads with
genuine antlers, a long tradition in rural Sri Lanka.
Dressed to kill, the staff stand to attention behind a table in the red dining
room. The wall behind is painted with a blow-up of a traditional painting of
a king in procession. The red background is typical of seventeenth- and
eighteenth-century schools of painting in Sri Lanka.

Red in one area and blue in another characterize the upper-floor dining rooms.
A varied collection of chairs and tables are set to different themes of color and
detail. In the red area, a blown-up version of a painting from a Kandyan temple
forms the backdrop at the buffet, while a soft blue theme creates a moody
atmosphere in the dining room.
Each bedroom has been stamped with its own individuality on the whim and
fancy of the owner, the objects used and the quality of light and views available.
The interconnecting spaces and bathrooms go their own way with one bathroom
painted as an aquarium and another entirely plastered with pages from magazines
of yesteryear. The whole house brims with an enjoyment of every aspect of life,
where each object is valued not for its monetary cost, but by the sheer pleasure it
gives the owner and her guests.
The front of the guest house is painted a dark green to harmonize with the
surrounding foliage. Lively red-painted sculptures on the balcony and the
red French doors from the salon pick up the colors in the garden shrubs.
Inspired by the frescoes of Sigiriya, Cloud Maidens float on the stairway
walls amidst celestial foliage.
Magazine covers, postcards and love letters form an intense collage in the
guest toilet with its built-in water closet and tall nineteenth-century cistern.
A set of ceiling panels painted in the old Kandyan style is a striking
backdrop to a seating area in the blue bedroom, furnished with 1930s-
style chairs and side tables and a 1960s coffee table.
Hand-painted butterflies flit in the light of the glass door to the garden in
the red bedroom.
Copious silverware and white table settings give the blue dining room an
ethereal look.
The stark all-white concrete and glass Havelock Town House (page 126),
with its design illusions to Mies van der Rohe, Le Corbusier and Richard
Meier, is an example of a design direction gaining ground in the suburbs of
Colombo.
Simple upholstered chairs arrayed around a glass-topped teak table
harmonize with the hues and materials of the rest of the Havelock Town
House. Tall sliding glass doors open on to a narrow area at the back of
the site planted with towering areca nut palms.

n 1948 Sri Lanka regained independence after 450 years of colonial rule. This
I event proved to be a major catalyst for a resurgence in Sri Lankan art, literature
and architecture.
The first public buildings to be associated with newly independent Sri Lanka
appealed to nationalist sentiments. The University of Peradeniya near Kandy by
Shirley de Alwis, and the Independence Memorial Hall in Colombo by Neville
Wynne-Jones, appropriated ancient Sri Lankan styles and motifs. Although these
buildings seemed to represent a retreat into pastiche, they nevertheless succeeded
in inspiring a new generation of architects to re-examine Sri Lankan traditions.
The modern Sri Lankan house developed out of a fusion of Sri Lankan
vernacular traditions and European modernist ideals. European modernism took a
tenuous hold in the Colombo of the 1930s though Art Deco, and “modern” took
precedence over pure modernism. A milestone building, which appeared during
the war years of 1939–45, was the block of flats in the Colombo Fort designed for
Baur and Company by Goldman and Maillart. It was Andrew Boyd, however, who
designed the first truly modern buildings in Sri Lanka, with a house in Kandy in
1939 and another couple of houses in Colombo in 1946.
Minette de Silva was not only one of the first truly modern Sri Lankan
architects, but was also probably the first formally qualified Asian woman
architect. After training in Bombay and the Architectural Association (AA) School
of Architecture in the UK, she became associated with Le Corbusier through
meetings of the CIAM (Congres Internationaux d’Architecture Moderne) group
during the 1940s and early 1950s. Back in her home country, she was determined
to follow Le Corbusier’s advice of drawing on her own traditions for inspiration.
In a series of houses built in the 1950s, Minette established a style of modern,
open-plan building with many of the living spaces flowing into the landscape.
Wherever possible and appropriate, she used the work of local artisans.
At the time of independence, the architectural profession was still in its
infancy. One by one, the expatriate practices which had flourished before the war
closed their doors, and a new generation of Sri Lankans left to study architecture
abroad. One of the most significant of these was Valentine Gunasekera. Trained at
the AA, Gunasekera had worked with Eero Saarinen in the United States. In his
work in Sri Lanka, he attempted to adapt modern abstract formalism to the tropical
context. The most striking of his buildings is the highly original Tangalla Bay
Hotel of 1974.

A Rolls Royce coupé from the 1930s forms an unusual “sculpture” in the
entrance-cum-garage to the House on 33rd Lane. An eighteenth-century
ebony wood sofa is paired with a steel chair designed for the Kandalama
Hotel. Next to the painting by Belgian artist Saskia Pringiers is the
entrance to the studio office and the guest rooms and roof terrace on the
upper level.

Also returning to the island after training at the AA was Geoffrey Bawa, who
in 1957 took over the then moribund British practice of Edwards, Reid and Begg.
Working with his associate Ulrik Plesner, he also experimented with various
alternatives to the prevalent styles. After an early flirtation with “tropical
modernism,” Bawa discovered the virtues of vernacular building traditions. His
most seminal work, the Ena de Silva House of 1960, is a fusion of these modernist
planning ideals. This, in turn, led to his masterly design for the Bentota Beach
Hotel of 1968, which fused the traditions of a Sinhalese walauwe manor with the
modernist plan of Le Corbusier.
Influential also was artist and designer Ena de Silva. Her work in batik, and
her collaborations with her son Anil Gamini Jayasooriya and Laki Senanayake,
the artist who started work as an assistant in Bawa’s office, produced artifacts that
were used extensively in the work of the architects at the time and summed up the
new Sri Lankan spirit. An eclectic series of inspirations, including patterns and
idioms derived from ancient and medieval Sri Lankan flags and banners, led to
commissions ranging from table linen to the 50-foot (15-meter) banners that
adorned the lobby of the Colombo Oberoi designed by Skidmore, Owings and
Merrill in 1974. The most striking of her works, however, was a ceiling designed
for the Bentota Beach Hotel. De Silva now runs a cooperative in her native
village dedicated to a revival of local arts and crafts. Products from this and other
efforts towards the rejuvenation of traditional crafts are very much a part of the
contemporary Sri Lankan interior design scene.
The resurgence in traditional crafts with a modern design twist is evident in
the hand-looms produced by Barefoot, the design and cloth shop at 704 Galle
Road, Colombo, which is a labyrinthine collector’s dream. Barbara Sansoni, with
her incredible eye for color, has done for Sri Lankan handloom cotton what Jim
Thomson did for Thai silk. Stunning designs and vibrant colors are the hallmark of
Sansoni’s work, which she continues with a dedicated band of designers and
weavers working in rural Sri Lanka. The sarong, the quintessential garment of
Asian men (and women) has been transformed forever into a particularly colorful
Sri Lankan version by Barefoot and is now copied by many other designers,
including the mass producers for the Sri Lankan market in India.
 Other products from the Barefoot range, and from other designers inspired by
it, make up a major component of contemporary interiors. Objects of everyday
use, such as table napkins and bedspreads, curtains and cushion covers,
tablecloths and towels use vibrant cotton handlooms. These handloom products, in
brilliant hues and stunning designs, have come to infiltrate even the most
conservative of Sri Lankan homes, making them an essential part of the
contemporary design ethos.
This has also led to a revival of the local handloom industry. Under the
guidance of Chandra Thenuwara of the National Craft Council, the local handloom
centers in the provinces began to produce material that took into consideration the
demands of the local market. Today, many of these centers produce contemporary
designs that have a distinctly Sri Lankan feel to them. These explorations were
further reinforced by government policies of self-reliance promoted by the left-of-
center politics of the immediate post-colonial period. Imports were restricted, as
was travel abroad. This did not mean, however, that there was a dearth of ideas or
inspiration from the goings on in other parts of the world. Indeed, the early 1960s
restriction of goods and travel abroad brought about a creative blossoming in the
architecture and design of the island. Access to foreign magazines as well as
communication with foreign visitors to the country also inspired local designers,
as did the various expatriates who came out to Sri Lanka to live and work.
All these changes prompted designers to re-examinine and work with local
resources. The handloom cloth industries, along with many local building material
industries and crafts people, were employed to good effect. By the 1970s a Sri
Lankan ethos of using available skills and materials to best possible advantage
was part of the Sri Lankan architectural and design consciousness. Good Sri
Lankan design was also seen to be moving towards buildings and spaces that were
open to the natural environment, and utilized as many local resources as possible.
Terracotta tiles for both floors and roofs, plain polished cement for floors, rush
and coconut coir carpets, coconut timber columns, rafters and structural members,
handloom and locally manufactured batik fabrics teamed naturally with
landscapes full of frangipani to form a unique Sri Lankan contemporary style.
Since the introduction of a market economy in 1977, new materials and
technologies have been introduced to Sri Lanka, adding to the historically strong
colonial influences. More frequent and continuous relations with foreign countries
and travel abroad by an increasing number of Sri Lankans for study and business
have made Sri Lankan design sensitive to global ideas. Changes have also
occurred as new technologies and materials are being teamed with more cheaply
and easily available local ones. An example of this is the collaboration of Swiss
furniture designer Rico Tarawella and Bentota craftsmen of the Workshop, whose
furniture combines modern welding techniques with traditional materials such as
timber and leather.
In the world of architecture, the work of Chelvadurai Anjalendran and Vijitha
Basnayake stands out. Light, eco-conscious buildings and the use of sustainable
and easily available materials are very much a part of contemporary residential
architecture. Living rooms open out to gardens and courtyards. Bathrooms are
open-air. Sensitivity to the environment and to budgetary considerations is also
evident in the widespread use of recycled building materials, not only antique
doors, windows or columns, but more modern and recent materials such as
railway sleepers and steel girders, timber rafters and old floors, cement and
ceramic tiles and even metal or terracotta roofing. Overall, good Sri Lankan
design seems to have developed an eye for sensible, practical materials as much
as for economy of use.
Increasing congestion in Colombo and rising house prices have also impacted
on the design of the contemporary Sri Lankan house. With most suburban houses
being built on less than 3000 square feet (280 square meters) of land in
increasingly congested suburbs, the internal courtyard, the garden and innovations
to the way light and ventilation are provided to the interior have become important
design considerations.
Worldwide design trends are also influencing interior design schemes. A
major influence on the contemporary Sri Lankan interior is the work of designer
and entrepreneur Shanth Fernando of Paradise Road, who is credited with giving
Sri Lanka a “style identity,” making local arts and crafts very chic but, at the same
time, “timeless.” Fernando uses local skills to manufacture a variety of home
decoration items that are inspired by local traditional craft but, under his
direction, with an eye on international design trends. The gallery and restaurant
opened by him in the old offices of Edwards, Reid and Begg have set new trends
in the dining experience and found a new life for a significant contemporary
building.
This bathroom in the Havelock Town House (page 126) is a tactile and
visual delight. Clean lines, a muted palette and natural materials inject a
Zen air. Separated by a frosted glass partition, a solid plank of teak floats
over a chest of drawers to form a vanity stand, while timber “carpets” are
laid over a mosaic tile floor. Lighting is subtle, hidden away in the ceiling
and in alcoves on the wall.
Alfred Place House
COLOMBO 3 | ARCHITECT: GEOFFREY BAWA

A weathered old bench sits below the deep overhanging eaves of the
loggia. The polished satin-wood (Cloroxylon sweitania) columns, raised
on elegant granite bases, are from a time when this timber was an
abundant building material.

No. 5, Alfred Place, built in 1963, more than any other building of this period
contains the thinking of the architect Geoffrey Bawa that came to epitomize his
work. Inspired by the demands of the owner, artist and designer Ena de Silva, who
came from a family steeped in tradition, for a house that would incorporate
traditional Sri Lankan elements—an enclosing wall, open-sided rooms, verandas
and courtyards—as well as modern elements such as an office, studio and guest
wing, Bawa responded instinctively to the challenge of the small urban site. For
the first time in Sri Lankan contemporary architectural history, the open planning
tradition of the modern movement is blended harmoniously with traditional Sri
Lankan elements and materials and techniques of construction to form a seamless
whole: the inward-looking family rooms and service areas, work spaces and guest
rooms are all clearly defined and separated but at the same time interconnected.
The main spaces of the house are arranged in layers of increasing privacy as
they move inwards away from the street. Behind an austere plaster wall
punctuated only by a solid wooden door and the entrance to the garage, a river
stone-paved forecourt forms a buffer between the street and a magnificent old
door, rescued from a temple, which opens to a narrow passage leading to the large
central courtyard surrounded on all four sides by a low-eaved colonnade of
satinwood and presided over by an ancient frangipani (Plumeria rubra) and a
shady mango.
The forecourt at the front of the house is floored with river stones and a
massive millstone. A roof of half-round tiles on a timber frame shelters the
path to the magnificent antique temple door, the main entrance to the
house.
 Now occupied by the Belgian artist Saskia Pringiers and her family, the rooms
closest to the road house the office, studio, garage and guest suite. At the far end
of the courtyard is the main living area—a two-story building with living and
dining areas on the ground floor opening on to the courtyard, separated by a
timber-lined spiral staircase leading to the shrine room and family bedrooms
above. Running down one side of the compound is the service area. The whole
area is paved with varying textures of stone, from washed river stone in the
courtyard to dressed granite in the main spaces. Large millstones define the
corners of the courtyard and act as casual seating or for drying things on.
Weathered timber, white plaster walls and half-round terracotta tiles are
complemented by collections of ancient objects in natural tones.

The study, immediately to the left of the entrance, looks over the main
internal courtyard. Like all the rooms in the house, this one is naturally
ventilated from two sides. Louvered shutters replace glass windows. A
projecting bay window wraps around to form a desk and a setting for a
nineteenth-century terracotta roof finial. A painting by the occupant, artist
Saskia Pringiers, hangs above the desk.

A single plank of para para (Samanea saman) makes a magnificent dining

table on the loggia. A mixture of nineteenth-century office chairs and an
eighteenth-century Wolfendhal chair form the seating. Enamel-coated
studio lamps light up the table at night. The artist’s works, stacked up
against the wall, blend into the setting of stone, weathered timber, white
plaster and terracotta tiles.
The seamless transition between inside and out is one of the joys of the
house. Built during a time of shortage of modern materials and of import
restrictions, the architect made innovative use of the available locally
produced materials. The dominant tiled roof and the localized palette of
materials gives the house its vernacular feel.
The living room is arranged very much like one of Saskia’s paintings. The
original built-in seats and niches are filled with objects—a Buddha statue,
a traditional drill, textile printing blocks, a food stand, a granite rat—that
often reappear in her paintings. The writings on the wall are inspirations
and quotations, including one from a dear friend which says “be free, be
free, be free from attachment,... should you desire to reach the freedom
of the skies.”
Havelock Town House
COLOMBO 5 | ARCHITECT: RAJI KADIRGAMAR

This imposing concrete-and-glass structure, built in the inner suburbs of Colombo,

is a decidedly contemporary statement of urban life in the tropics. The neo-
modernist look of the house is inspired by the works of the modernists of the early
and mid-twentieth century, such as Le Corbusier and Richard Neutra, as well as
the great architects of the day, like Richard Meier. The minimal palette of
materials—white plaster walls, timber or polished concrete floors and frameless
glass fenestrations—creates a calm and tranquil atmosphere, but also enables the
house to function as a superb gallery for the owner’s collection of contemporary
art.
Three modules—a smaller central mass flanked by two larger masses—are
arranged in a U shape around an impeccably maintained garden filled with mature
frangipani trees, areca palms and other tropical foliage. Frameless glass picture
windows bordering a simple and planar terrace lined with a procession of
columns create a seamless extension of the inner spaces to the outside.
The entrance to the house is via a long passage parallel to and open on one
side to the garden on the right. A collection of line drawings hangs over a simple
console table of para mara (Samanea saman) timber. At the end of the corridor, a
slight change of level, indicated by four steps, marks the transition from the
entrance to the main entertainment area. Here, the dining room and anteroomcum-
gallery end in the magnificent double-height living room with its bridgeway
gallery. Skylights define the circulation from the otherwise open rooms.
Running along the back of these spaces is a linear water court in which is
reflected a regularly planted row of areca palms. The high walls of this courtyard
allow a soft glow of skylight and occasional rays of sunlight to penetrate down,
while the bright tropical light from the garden comes in on the other side.
The dining room is sparsely furnished with minimal contemporary furniture,
all set on a pale timber floor and white carpet. Movable wood-framed glass
panels become part of the walls, allowing the room to be closed off for intimate
dinner parties. The small anteroom between the dining and living rooms is a
gallery for a collection of black-and-white sketches. Two simple timber benches
and a coffee table furnish this space. This leads into the main living room with its
magnificent double-height volume. Carefully modulated windows reduce the glare
of direct sunlight, but manage to flood it with a soft glow of skylight. Here,
minimalist contemporary furniture made from rich tropical hard-wood is placed
on a white carpet on teak floors. More black-and-white sketch studies of the
human form by a Dutch artist working in Sri Lanka animate this space. Clear
frameless glass picture windows bring the lush tropical outdoors in.

A single areca palm framed between the columns of the double-height

living room emphasizes the verticality of the space.

A matching row of palms borders the wall at the back of the site, their
tops peeping over the open-air deck. Early afternoon light softens the
sculptural but neutral geometry of the architecture.
The bridge linking the terrace and the master bedroom overlooks the main
living space, which is austerely furnished with teakwood and leather
furniture. The paintings and cement sculpture of the Buddha in the
background are contemporary Sri Lankan.

Shafts of sunlight paint a picture of light and shadow on the plain wall of
the water and areca court. The trunks of areca palms silhouetted against
the back wall are living “art.”
An ashva vahanam from an old temple chariot stands in the doorway of
the anteroom, marking a transition from indoors to outdoors.
A sky-lit staircase leads to the upper floors. Bedrooms occupy the first level
as well as a family room that opens on to an open-air terrace over the dining room
and anteroom. A doorway on the terrace leads to the wooden bridgeway over the
living room. Above the bedrooms, a roof deck—a stunning glass pavilion—
shelters the staircase and allows for contemplation of the rooftops of this leafy
suburb of Colombo and the tropical sky.
Glass skylights mark the edge of the dining room space which, like most
others in this house, flows from one to another to the outside. A painting
by Jagath Ravindra anchors the vista through these spaces from living
room to entrance corridor.
On the smoked glass dining table, two wooden lion figures from an old
temple chariot pay homage to a bunch of Arum lilies in a Spanish glass
vase.

One side of the main entrance passage is open to the garden. A collection
of line drawings by a Pakistani artist hangs over the streamlined console.
An etched acrylic panel of the Sun God greets visitors at the front door. It
is even more effective when viewed from the end of the long entrance
corridor on the way out.
The almost Mediterranean stairway to the top is sculpted in plaster and
glows softly in the sunshine from above. The brass and aluminum door by
artist and architect Ismeth Raheem, leads to the first-floor guest bedroom
and sitting room.
House on 33rd Lane
COLOMBO 3 | ARCHITECT: GEOFFREY BAWA

Shortly after Geoffrey Bawa had rented the third of four small houses on a narrow
cul-desac off 33rd Lane, in 1959, he offered to buy all four from his landlord as
and when they fell vacant. No. 4 was the first house to be bought, in 1961, and
was added to the original sitting room and bedroom to create a new gallery, dining
room and garage. In 1968 the other two houses were acquired and major
remodeling undertaken. The actual forms of the original houses are now almost
impossible to discern. In their place is an introspective labyrinth of rooms and
garden courts that give the impression of infinite and endless space.
From the street, the house appears as a simple façade, its only fenestrations
being a large timber-trellised garage door, a similar side door and the main
entrance, an acrylic door with an etching of the Sun God that opens into the house.
Through this door, in the cool, subdued light, two magnificent cars—a 1935 Rolls
Royce and a 1953 Mercedes—are parked on chocks. Past these, a long white
corridor leads to the interior of the house past a series of small garden courts,
where, turning at 90 degrees past three antique columns, a veranda and further
garden court are seen. This is the heart of the house where the architect held court.
This is furnished with a long modern sofa covered in handloom fabric, paired
with a butterfly chair and a cane armchair. A small round table and an eighteenth-
century Indo-Portuguese chair act as a dining and work table. The main bedroom
opens off this space, as does the formal sitting room and dining room. When the
doors are open in the bedroom, a long vista connects the bed to a frangipani tree
outside the formal living room. The dining room, with its epoxy-coated table and
classic modern tulip chairs, in turn opens into the back garden court.
At the front of the house, above the garage, is a two-story tower. A winding
staircase, starting almost in the garage, leads up to a sitting room and guest
bedroom and further on up to a roof terrace. The sitting room, which also doubles
as a library, is lined on one side with hand-painted Balinese cloths and is
furnished with a mixture of modern and antique chairs and tables, some designed
by Bawa himself. A collection of line drawings of old buildings by Barbara
Sansoni hangs on one wall, whilst a beautiful piece of ancient limestone sculpture
sits atop an eighteenth-century jackwood cupboard inlaid in ebony and ivory. The
partly covered roof garden is filled with plants in built-in troughs and a green
travertine table on steel legs. Here, as the sun sets over the horizon to the east, the
candle flames provide light for a quiet drink looking out over the suburbs of
Colombo.
In the entrance hall, an eighteenth-century ebony wood sofa is paired with
a steel chair designed for the Kandalama Hotel. Behind a painting by the
Belgian artist Saskia Pringiers is the entrance to the studio office and
upper-level guest rooms and roof terrace. A dracaena plant filters the
brilliant light coming in from the glass skylight.
At the end of the long white entrance corridor is a set of doors decorated
by Australian artist Donald Friend. Each panel is a view into an idyllic
tropical garden from the different levels of a multi-storied pavilion. A
terracotta horse and old Chettinad columns define a pool court that is also
a pause on the journey from the entrance to the main house veranda.
Dalmatians have been constant companions in the house, and posing here
is Leopold III.

The most frequently used area in the house is the main sitting veranda. On
the modern sofa, a combination of woven fabric from Barefoot and batik
from the Paradise Road store is combined with gray Jim Thomson silk
cushions. Satiric cartoons (not shown) of Colombo society personalities
by Geoffrey Bawa’s brother Bevis hang above a batik-topped coffee table
by Ena de Silva. Balinese wooden birds share the central marble-topped
coffee table with a puffichichie pan, a brass oil lamp and tailor’s scissors.
The small sculpture on the rectangular side table is by Indian artist
Nandagopal.
A table lamp in the second guest room, its base made from a magnetic
toy, was designed for the Blue Water Hotel. The bentwood chair is an
original Thonet.
A wrought-iron candelabra turned bedside lamp lights up the guest
bedroom, casting shadows on the nineteenth-century timber and paper
alterpiece on the wall. The bed is covered with a Ritan Mazunda designed
bedspread from Fab India.
The upper-floor sitting room is an essay in the architect’s style and taste.
Each object—ranging from third-century Indian sculpture to modern toys
from the Museum of Modern Art in New York—is chosen for its intrinsic
beauty or amusement and arranged to blend harmoniously together. The
wall on the left is covered in a magnificent collection of Balinese cloths
made during the architect’s journeys to Bali whilst building a house for the
artist Donald Friend. The sofa is to the architect’s own design whilst the
bentwood chair is an original Thonet. The easy chairs are a design
adopted for the Bentota Beach Hotel, built in 1969.
Hameed House
KOTTE | ARCHITECT: C. ANJALENDRAN

Located on a sloping site on one of the many hills that comprise the Colombo
suburb of Nawala, the Hameed House effectively combines modern and recycled
elements and a clever use of site and space to achieve a private yet truly tropical
living experience. The house has been sensitively imposed on the landscape, the
sloping site and its situation being used to maximum advantage. A steep rise to the
east was built up to allow for views over the surrounding treetops and rooftops.
On fine days during the northeast monsoon, the silhouette of Adams Peak is visible
in the far distance.
Reached down a steep driveway, the house presents an austere and strict
façade, broken only by a set of beautiful antique doors salvaged by the owner
from his family mosque, a victim of the often mindless modernization that affects
many old public buildings in Sri Lanka. The simple brief given to the architect, C.
Anjalendran, was to fit the immense doors into the design, a pleasurable task
given the architect’s fascination, in his own words, with “the continuity and the
context of the traditional in relation to modern lifestyles and aspirations.” The
doors lead into the garage and the interior garden beyond.
Internally, the house is conceived as two large, pavilion-like verandas, one on
top of the other, to which are attached a row of rooms. A formal sitting room at a
half level connects the two verandas. The ground-floor veranda, entered through
the garage from the driveway, is a casual sitting area and dining room, which
opens out directly into the garden. A guest suite occupies one end of this veranda
and a staircase leads off the other to the formal sitting room on the half-landing
level of the stairs, which is formally furnished with an eclectic mix of
contemporary and antique furniture, including an eighteenth-century Dutch chest.
Glazed doors open out to a garden terrace on the same level.
The staircase continues up to reach the upper-level veranda, which comprises
the family living room. A double colonnade of concrete and antique timber
columns provides extra shade from the sun and rain, and plant troughs bring the
garden into the space. Like the veranda below, this is totally open to the elements
with no glazing or windows. Off this veranda, magnificent high antique doors
open into the bedrooms.

An Indian printed cloth by Ritan Mazunda of Fab India is the centerpiece

of the middle-level formal sitting room. Comfortable modern sofas
interspersed with nineteenth-century easy chairs, a charming Dutch-period
chest and other collectibles harmonize with the clean lines of the
architecture that make this space one with the outside.
The entrance veranda, paved in traditional terra-cotta tiles, ends in the
dining room at the far end, with the stairs to the next level rising behind it.
Abundant vegetation and the small pool in the middle distance make the
area feel like an extension of the garden rather than an internal part of the
house.
A nineteenth-century cupboard with porcelain knobs is the focus of the
dining area. The stainless steel and leather chairs are an interpretation of
a chair originally made in metal and rattan in the office of architect
Geoffrey Bawa.
The two verandas are connected by a formal sitting room reached by a
brass-railed staircase. The clean sweep of the roof gives the whole space
a sense of generous spaciousness.
Weeraman Walauwe
WELIGAMA | DESIGNER: SASKIA PRINGIERS

Weeraman Walauwe in Weligama is the country home of Belgian artist Saskia

Pringiers and her husband, who have long made Sri Lanka their second home. The
house itself is in the style of the early to mid-twentieth century bungalows built by
the prosperous landowning and entrepreneurial class of Sri Lanka. Set on a
commanding site overlooking vast tracts of paddy fields that may have once
belonged to the family, the house is essentially composed of two parts. The early
and more formal part is the classic porch leading to a veranda flanked by two
front rooms. A long hallway is divided into a living and formal dining space by a
decorative arch and this, in turn, opens out to a back veranda. Two other rooms
open off the dining area. In later years, a service wing appears to have been
added, reached via the back veranda.
The most recent renovations have involved additions and alterations to the
back of the house where a new service wing and formal dining room have been
added, creating a private courtyard. The biggest change to the house, however, has
been in the way it is lived in by the artist and her family.
Entry to the compound is through a side entrance along a lane off the main
road. The entry court is complete with garages, a boat shed and staff quarters and
is casually planted with plants typical of a village garden. A path across the lawn
leads to the front of the house with its view over the surrounding paddy fields. A
swimming pool with an infinity edge, surrounded by a paved deck and grass, sits
beneath a large and spreading mango tree. The porch of the old house denotes the
entrance and is now used as an extension of the veranda. The whole central space
acts as a sitting room with a suite of bedrooms on either side. This space leads
into the extensive back veranda that now connects the dining room and service
area to the right and the artist’s studio on the left. A broad-eaved colonnaded court
with a frangipani in the center is the focus of this area.
The dining room is an extension of the back veranda. Here, polished
cement floors and dining table are teamed with reproductions of
eighteenth-century Wolfendhal chairs. The folded concrete staircase leads
to the guest rooms in the attic. A collection of antique pottery sits atop an
eighteenth-century jackwood dowry chest.
Stones weigh down the branches of a fragrant frangipani in the rear
courtyard overlooked by a pair of nineteenth-century nursing chairs and an
upturned mortar which serves as a coffee table. The copper cauldron may
once have boiled rice in the kitchens of this old manor house.

Additional guests are accommodated in a converted attic accessed via an

elegant, accordian-like cement staircase affixed to one side of the dining space,
which has a matching cement table. The artist’s studio occupies an airy, almost
double-height space which may have been a former service area. Here, the artist
produces her sublime works. The style of the house is a unique statement of her
inspiration, which is always drawn from the milieu in which she lives. The dark,
earthy or black-and-white tones of her paintings are clearly reflected in her taste
of interior décor, which is invariably a display of many of the objects that inspire
her work.

The classic and elegant front of the house is typical of those built in the
early twentieth century by the local élite.
A Hanukkah is placed on an old Ayurvedic medicine chest with a favorite
quotation scribbled on the wall behind. A collection of antique pots sits on
top of an eighteenth-century jack-wood dowry chest under the polished
cement stairs leading to the guest areas. A plaster cast of the nawa nari
khunjare or the nine woman elephant knot decorates a wall beside the
door leading to the kitchen. A detail of a painting in the style of the
southern school depicting the Buddha and his disciples.
The sitting room, with its original decorative arch and fretwork doors, is an
elegant setting for a mix of modern furniture and ancient artifacts. A comfy
sofa and chaise longue face an old granite bench which serves as an
unusual coffee table. The painting by the resident artist, Saskia Pringiers,
was part of a series about identity.
Anjalendran’s House
KOTTE | ARCHITECT: C. ANJALENDRAN

The house belongs to an architect who came to the profession via dancing and
origami. This perhaps provides the key to understanding his architectural works.
Best known for the passion and color he brought to his works for the SOS
children’s villages, he lives by a simple dictum of not doing for others any
architecture which he would not do for himself, or afford to live in. This is
epitomized by the small house that he calls his own in the Colombo suburb of
Battaramulla.
A colorful door sheltered by a frangipani leads into a garage, which doubles
as an office during the week, in which is parked a Bajaj three-wheeler. A passage
off the garage leads into the heart of the architect’s world. A huge roof soars to an
upper sleeping deck, while a small veranda wraps round a courtyard, forming a
loggia, with a bedroom on the far side. On warm, sultry nights, an orange jasmine
(Murraya paniculata) fills the courtyard with fragrance from its delicate white
blossoms.
These seemingly simple spaces are the repository of an extraordinary
collection of artifacts. The furniture is simple enough, but is of interest in its own
right: British-period office chairs blend with Dutch-period cupboards and
contemporary steel furniture. The focus of the sitting room is a built-in sofa behind
which hangs a diverse collection of paintings with pride of place given to an
unusual pink painting by the artist Saskia Pringiers, whose usual earth-colored
tones seems to have bowed out in deference to the architect’s spirit! The dining
room occupies the opposite end of the main space. A row of built-in cupboards
acts as a platform for a collection of bronze images of Nataraj dancing before a
screen print of flames by local artist Laki Senanayake.
The sanctum sanctorum of the house is the bedroom upstairs. Approached by a
steep flight of steps and through an antechamber filled with Buddhist icons, the
inner sleeping area is filled with Hindu iconography. The far wall is covered with
icons of Lord Krishna from the pilgrimage town of Natwara in India. A miniature
Alexander Calder mobile gently rotates above the classic image of Nataraj. A
ledge behind the bed itself is filled with at least a hundred different images of
Lord Ganesh, the elephant-headed God of Wisdom. A large batik hanging by Ena
de Silva of a bird in flight, taken from an ancient Vedic symbol for creation, hangs
behind the images.
The architect once described his house as a tent, and a tent it is when in fading
light, with the art softly lit, one sits down to listen to one of his unending
collection of ragas, and the house itself seems to disappear under the vast
overhanging shelter of the roof.

The built-in seat and platform at one end of the main living space are
enlivened by an eclectic mix of art and artifacts and colordul cushions. The
central painting by Saskia Pringiers is flanked by works by Richard
Gabriel and Ivan Peiris, both members of the 43rd Group, and by Laki
Senanayake. The Dutch planter’s chair, from which the architect usually
presides over his guests, is a satinwood copy of a nineteenth-century
original. The table is solid para mara (Samanea Saman) timber. The
sculpture of the flying bull on the table is by Tissa Ranasinghe.
A single flight of plain polished cement steps leads to the upper-floor
bedroom-cum-gallery. At the end of the dining room, a screen print by
Laki Senanayake forms a fiery backdrop to the dancing figures of Nataraj
in front.
The dining table does double duty as the architect’s work table. More
paintings adorn the walls.
A collection of objects at the top of the stairs, lit by sunlight streaming
through an arched window.
The main sitting room and dining room sit on the edge of the garden
defined by the saffron wall and the azure pool. The 70 by 30 foot (21 by 9
meter) pool, which is finished in dark green polished cement, is large
enough for users to do laps. The hill side of the pool has an infinity edge
that runs off into views of the jungle and Lake Koggala. At the deep end
(not shown), a cascade falls from a carved opening.

“Tis said that the waters from the fountains of Paradise

could be heard from here as it was only 40 leagues to
Paradise from here”
—Friar Magnolli, papal emissary to the court of Kublai Khan

aradise being so close, for centuries Sri Lanka has been thought of as the next
P best thing. When Adam was expelled from Paradise, it is said that he was
given the island as compensation and his first step, according to onecent legend,
was on the top of Adam’s Peak, the holy mountain to which adherents of all of Sri
Lanka’s major religions flock annually.
The oldest retreats in predominantly Buddhist Sri Lanka are, in reality, the
ancient monastic complexes. A classic example is the second-century cave
complex on the lower slopes of Ritigala mountain, 25 miles (40 km) southwest of
the ancient city of Anuradhapura. Here, the ruins still exude an air of a peace and
tranquility that revives the soul. Built by an Anuradhapura king, the stone
pathways that wind through giant trees at the base of Ritigala still call upon one to
meditate. Its companion, the forest monastery Arankele, has a monumental
pathway that forms the base of this beautiful ruin. With their pavilions and
bathhouses, cave dwellings and large refectories, the meditation retreats of old
are said to have housed hundreds, if not thousands, who wished to retreat from the
trials of everyday life into one of meditation and self-realization. Ruins of these
monastic complexes reveal that they were more than simple cells and pathways
and meditation halls. Rather, they were devoted to various aspects of meditation
and self-realization through rituals of mental and physical cleansing of the mind
and body. Bathing houses arranged around central courtyards with pools of hot
and cold water, and the paraphernalia needed to prepare ingredients to treat the
body, seem suspiciously like modern-day spas. The architecture, however, is
characterized by an extreme simplicity of detail and an almost modernist honesty
to structure and material. No carving or embellishment mars the beauty of a slab
of granite, which is expertly crafted to fulfil its particular role in the whole
ensemble.

Located at Dambulla, 150 miles (170 km) from Colombo, Kandamala

Hotel, built on elongated stilts, occupies a unique site amidst rocky
outcrops, lakes and virgin forest.

Such retreats still play an important role in Sri Lanka. People often take time
out to retreat into a well-disciplined and structured life around a spiritual theme.
Modern meditation centers, sometimes a part of an ancient monastery, take in
guests for a few days, but other specially constructed and maintained retreats for
those who seek a radical retreat, physically and spiritually, are found in many
parts of Sri Lanka. Of very simple and basic construction, with no embellishment
to distract the senses, these usually occupy some of the most stunning geographical
locations in the country. The minimal life of a monk is reflected in the spartan
spaces.
The luxuriant vegetation and the beautifully manicured landscape of the island,
especially where the main occupation of paddy cultivation is prevalent, makes it
easy to imagine a life of plenty and therefore a possibility for retreating from it
into one of contemplation of that landscape. The sheer abundance of nature can
easily make one believe that one is in a magical land of lotus-eaters, a far cry
from the hubbub of modern life. It is this combination of meditation and landscape
that draws the many visitors to Sri Lanka.
One of the earliest resorts of modern times is the hill station Nuwara Eliya.
Here, in a beautiful valley hidden in the highest hills of the island, the British
created a miniature version of Scotland to which they would retreat from the heat
of the lowlands. Today, Nuwara Eliya has lost many of its charms, but it still
attracts armies of Sri Lankan holidaymakers in the April season. Colonial style
survives in the corridors of the Hill Club and on the verandas of the Golf Club.
Although historically most Sri Lankans have taken the landscape of the island
for granted, there is a long tradition of garden design and the building of gardens
for pleasure. One example is the astonishing water garden of Sigiriya built,
according to legend, by King Kassaypa in the fifth century. Two modern examples
of the “pleasure garden” are the gardens created by Bevis Bawa and his architect
brother Geoffrey.
The arrival of the long-haul jet in the 1960s brought a new kind of tourism to
Sri Lanka. Amongst the earliest purpose-built commercial resorts, the Bentota
Beach Hotel, designed by Geoffrey Bawa and built on a promontory in Bentota,
held the magic until recently. Its vocabulary of vernacular materials used with
great sympathy on a modern building type was widely emulated across Asia. The
same spirit is seen in Bawa’s other works, including the unforgettable Triton
Hotel, with its illusion of the sea sweeping into the lobby.
A giant frangipani dominates the northern terrace of Lunuganga, the
garden estate of the late Geoffrey Bawa (page 154). Planted at the very
inception of the garden in 1947 as two small branches, the tree was
trained by Bawa to provide a perching site for the peafowl he once kept
on the estate. The two nineteenth-century garden statues define the edge
of the terraces, which drop steeply to the water garden and lake below.

The rise of mass tourism was halted during the late 1980s by the eruption of
civil war. But as peace returned to Sri Lanka, a new sort of tourism emerged, and
small boutique hotels appeared to cater to the tastes of discerning travellers. This,
in turn, encouraged nomadic souls to seek a permanent home in Sri Lanka. This
trend has led to a decade of private house building.
The contemporary use of vernacular building materials in a particular
combination has resulted in a recognizably Sri Lankan resort style. As in much of
the rest of Asia, the reuse of vernacular building traditions to articulate modern
needs has resulted in these buildings becoming well rooted in the place. Roofs
covered by half-round terracotta tiles, plastered walls washed in a combination of
lime wash and yellow ochre or samara, combined with trees bearing white
frangipani, complete the picture of the Sri Lankan resort or retreat. Visitors to the
island invariably take back with them this memory of tile, white lime wash and
frangipani.
Here, too, the syncretism that is part of the Sri Lankan ethos is evident. For
none of these elements are entirely indigenous to Sri Lanka. Half-round terracotta
tiles were introduced from Iberia via the Arabs and the Portuguese; the lime wash
is local; the frangipani is native to South and Central America. However, the
combination in which they appear within the actual spaces is inimitably Sri
Lankan. Add to this terracotta tile or stone floors, white sarong-clad staff padding
gently around in the warm, humid air, thick with the scent of frangipani or night-
blooming Queen of the Night, and you have the essential ingredients of Sri Lankan
resort style. Suites of rooms, their doorways in line with each other, invariably
start and end in an outside space. Outdoor eating and living spaces predominate,
with the building itself being merely a pavilion for use in inclement weather.
Inside, the best exude the simplicity of a monastic retreat, with little to come
between the people and the landscape, which is often the object of contemplation.

The dining space under a giant rock in the Boulder Garden (page 172)
includes a series of steps that lead up to a second polished concrete
platform where one can also relax. Both areas overlook the forest and
reflecting pool that defines the edge of the inhabited world.
Lunuganga
BENTOTA | ARCHITECT: GEOFFREY BAWA

Lunuganga is the legendary garden estate of architectural maestro Geoffrey Bawa.

Started as a garden in 1947 on the island’s west coast, Bawa spent forty years
transforming an abandoned rubber estate into this tropical idyll, with elegant
Italianate gardens, courtyards, pools, walkways, pavilions, and inspirational
views over the surrounding lake and jungle. It is experiments here that first led to
his taking up architecture as a profession, and throughout his life it was his
laboratory and muse, “a place of many moods, the result of many imaginings,
offering a retreat to be alone or fellow-feel with friends.” Translated as “Salt
River,” the property lies on a promontory into a backwater of the Bentota River in
spectacular setting as a “garden within the greater garden that is Sri Lanka.” The
garden is composed around an old plantation bungalow from the 1930s as a series
of Arcadian vistas in a tropical setting.
Inspired by Bawa’s many journeys and experiences of gardens in the East and
West, Lunuganga remains a unique experience of a truly tropical Asian modern
garden, a suite of serene outdoor rooms set amid the wilder wilderness of Sri
Lanka. The main vista connects the view of the backwater through the main
corridor of the house itself. To the south, it draws the eye past a kitchen Ming jar
placed in the middle distance under a moonamal tree to a distant dagaba on the
hill, while to the north, a pot under a frangipani frames the view of the lake and
sky. Other vistas look over carefully tended rice paddies that become a foil to
sculpted frangipani trees on small terraces, or stands of rubber trees framing a
row of Ming jars on the edge of a pond in the field of jars. Small pavilions and
eclectic sculptures punctuate the garden, particularly the leopard and cement ball
that flank the water gate. Many walkways through the dense vegetation bring into
focus unexpected views and make for contemplative walks.
The edge of the northern terrace overlooks the water garden and lake
beyond. The island, purchased by Bawa in the 1970s to save it from
destruction by an ill-conceived village expansion program, is now an
official bird sanctuary.

The plantation house itself was completely transformed by turning it back to

front. It is furnished with an eclectic mix of objets d’art chosen with the
architect’s meticulous eye. Seventeenth-century Indo-Portuguese chairs sit
comfortably with twentieth-century paintings and sculptures, and a nineteenth-
century garden sculpture frames a vista from a veranda lit by a locally made
copper copy of a Paul Hennigson pine cone lamp.
Several other pavilions are scattered throughout the estate, including the
romantic Glass Room, a long, thin, completely glazed-in guest room set above the
entrance court. Waking up in it is akin to being in a tree. The Garden Room,
assembled from old building parts, is a meticulous essay in the reuse of old
material. The gallery, a former cowshed, and the henhouse, date from a period in
the political history of Sri Lanka when the estate was very much a farm!
Lunuganga lives on today as testimony to a great architect, who not only
enjoyed life in this bucolic setting, but made full use of it to make a decidedly
important contribution to Asian and world architecture.
The bathroom moves seamlessly from inside to out, where the shower
comes off the fern-filled wall. A nineteenth-century sculpture stands guard
at the door to the inside.
Appointed with antique furniture, sculpture and art from Bawa’s collection,
the sitting room in the old plantation house is both elegant and intensely
personal. The centrepiece is a nineteenth-century chandelier brought in as
hand luggage by the architect’s French cousin as a house-warming gift in
1949!

The buffalo head chair by the Georgian ebony table was an

eccentricity of a nineteenth-century British planter. The art is all twentieth
century and includes the Trojan horse, a sculpture by Australian artist
Donald Friend, and paintings by Sri Lankan artists Ivan Pieris and Raju
and Indian artist Ranmanujam.
The southern terrace that overlooks the great lawn is the entrance to the
main house at Lunuganga and a favorite breakfast place. Canvas
directors’ chairs are arrayed around an old cast-iron table. At the end of
the terrace, peeping out of a niche overgrown with a strangling fig and
other tropical foliage is a second-century Roman head.
The veranda sitting area was once the entrance porch of the original
estate house. Two built-in sofas and a couple of eighteenth-century corner
chairs surround a cement table lined with terracotta tiles. The planting
brings the outside in. An old fan overhead helps circulate air.
The Sandella or Garden Room was constructed in 1983, the beginning of
the twenty-year civil war in Sri Lanka. Formed almost entirely of materials
salvaged from demolished buildings, it is a meticulous study in light,
structure and proportion—all fundamentals of good architecture.
Decorative objects include a seventeeth-century statue of Madonna and
wooden toy racing cars made by a local toy manufacturer, arranged on a
single plank of para mara (Samanea saman), which acts as a work table,
the only such one on the estate. Two eighteenth-century Burger-master
chairs (one still able to swivel) provide seating. The bell and the Bishop’s
chair in the corner came from the local church, demolished because of a
shortage of worshippers.

A mural in the Bridge House by Geoffrey Bawa’s friend, artist Laki

Senanayake. The fiery scene, from Greek mythology, belies the peace
and serenity of Cinnamon Hill, a two-bedroom studio, to which it opens
out.
Early morning sun streams into the Roman Pavilion on the western
terraces of the estate. The slatted chair was originally designed by
Geoffrey Bawa for his Kandalama Hotel.
Dappled sunlight lights up the entrance court that is overlooked by a satyr
molded on a pot, which was designed by the artist Donald Friend and
Bawa’s brother Bevis.

The entrance to the San-della or Garden Room is flanked by antique

columns rescued from an old building, and is almost completely covered
by a Ceylon ironwood tree. The vista through the building into the lush
vegetation beyond is a hallmark of the architect’s work, where what is
seen from a building is often more important than the building itself.
Early light throws into sharp silhouette an ancient stone lingam and dan
trees against the paddy fields, part of the water garden on the western
end of the broad walk.
A Dutch-period door marks the entrance to the Glass Room above the
entrance court. Copper carriage lamps of a nineteenth-century design,
light up the steps at night.
Kandalama Hotel
DAMBULLA | ARCHITECT: GEOFFREY BAWA

The terrace at the end of the approach ramp to the hotel, a sweeping
plane of roof placed across a natural gap in the landscape, forms a
forecourt to the reception area. Forty feet (12 meters) above the lake, the
panorama beyond is gradually revealed on the ascent up the ramp on the
right. Wherever possible, the existing rocks on the site were left
undisturbed during construction of the hotel.

Occupying a unique site in the cultural heart-land of Sri Lanka, the Kandalama
Hotel was built amidst great environmental controversy. It has now come to
epitomize a new trend in hotel architecture and management that is fast taking over
the globe. Awarded many environmental awards, the hotel derives its special
status from being a building where the architecture—especially from the inside—
almost entirely disappears. The landscape dominates it from every angle,
including the bathrooms, and is literally taking over the building. Designed by the
legendary architect Geoffrey Bawa for the hotel arm of the conglomerate Aitken
Spence, he once contemplated what it would be like, if many, even greater works
from the past, succumbed to the onslaught of the jungle that surrounded them and
became the habitation of bears and leopards rather than visiting tourists. One
sometimes feels this is already happening at Kandalama.
The magnificent entrance and reception set the tone for the interiors, which in
many ways are not interiors at all. A huge expanse of flat concrete bridges a rock
and a building hugging another rock to provide shelter for the reception desk, an
old singed beam of Ceylon ironwood (Messua ferrea). Where the outside ends
and the inside begins is never clear as a sweep of living rock forms one of the
walls and continues through the entrance passage to arrive at the reception lounge
and pool deck from where there is a spectacular view of the fifth-century rock
fortress of Sigiriya, 9 miles (15 km) away.
The austere approach to the interiors, while appearing rather spartan to some,
only helps to emphasize the majesty of the landscape beyond. The conscious effort
to keep references to the past out of the building acts as a neutral foil on which to
project images of the past that a typical tourist arriving at the hotel from the
cultural triangle would have observed. The simple palette of concrete frame
structures and black aluminum glazing creates simple volumes and spaces to
inhabit, which hardly make any demands on the occupants. The hotel, as Bawa
once observed, is “merely a belvedere” from which to observe the sweeping
panorama of landscape and history laid before it. The fourth-century reservoir, the
distant fortress rock of Sigiriya, the rocky eminence of Dambulla with its first-
century caves and eighteenth-century paintings and the high pinnacles of Ritigala
with a second-century forest monastery at its base, remind one of a thousand and
more years of drama and intrigue enacted in the landscape.
Two of the hotel’s three sections are built on tall stilts that avoid disturbing
the flow of rainwater. Jungle creepers pulsing with life climb up the five-
story front of the bedroom wings, virtually engulfing the building. The wild
vegetation on the roof garden helps reduce thermal gain into the building
and provides a terrace for unique rooftop jungle activities.
A huge roof beam from a nineteenth-century building in Colombo struck by
fire in 1984, forms a magnificent reception counter. Steel sleeves cover
the singed edges. A print motif painted on the wall behind, inspired by an
old hand-block printed somana cloth, glows in the evening sun.
The entrance to the hotel is a huge sheltering roof reminiscent of a cave
from the inside but indistinguishable from its surroundings on the outside.
The texture of the living rock forming one wall of the entrance corridor is
an interesting contrast to the smooth polished plaster of the other wall and
the polished Indian kadappa stone on the floor.

The main dining room overlooks Kandalama Lake on one side and a great
overhanging rock on the other. Copies of eighteenth-century Dutch colonial
Wolfendhal chairs are arranged under giant metal representations of
traditional votive trees often found in miniature and made as offerings in
Buddhist shrines.
From the main lounge, visitors enjoy panoramic views of Kandalama Lake.
The lounge itself is simply furnished with clean-lined modern sofas and
table lamps, paired with reproduction nineteenth-century cane chairs, all
chosen to enhance the timeless nature of the space.
The dramatic lines of the swimming pool are in sharp contrast to the lake
and hills beyond. The clearly articulated geometry of the modernist hotel,
steadily being smothered by vegetation, rises above the tangle of tropical
monsoon forest. The dining room and staircase are visible in the middle
distance. The bedroom wings are on the far end.

The cave-like entrance to the hotel bridges a gap in the landscape and is
reminiscent of the cave temples abounding in the surrounding area
including the magnificent Dambulla caves.

Reflected sky on polished stone gives an illusion of the lake sweeping into
the lounge, which seamlessly melds with the outside.
The Boulder Garden
KALAWANA | ARCHITECT: LALYN COLLURE

Water cascades down part of the staircase entrance to the Boulder

Garden at the side of a huge granite boulder. This boulder sets the tone
for the entire hotel, which follows in every respect the ancient tradition of
rock and boulder gardens of Sri Lanka.

The Boulder Garden hotel, set amidst the lofty mountains of the UNESCO world
heritage rainforest reserve of Sinharaja and the fertile rice and tea terraces of the
southwest lowlands, follows the ancient Sri Lankan tradition of occupying natural
sites by slight human intervention. The magnificent boulder-strewn site is used
sensitively to provide accommodation for a mere handful of guests. The main
man-made features include the addition of stone staircases to allow for easy
access to the different levels and the creation of flat areas between rocks to
accommodate a restaurant and other usable spaces.
The hotel is approached via a rough road through a plantation, which ends in a
clearing on the edge of the tropical rainforest. The entrance is marked by a huge
rock sheltering a cascade of water and an adjacent staircase leading into the dense
forest. The path meanders through a series of platforms and levels between trees
and huge boulders until it reaches the reception and entrance lounge under a group
of rocks. From here, winding stone steps and deep stone-block corridors lead to
other parts of the hotel, including the ten bedroom suites, arranged in four rising
tiers on the site. Local granite walls, huge timber beams, polished cement floors
and metal-grilled windows contribute to the monastic feel of the suites.
The stone dining room, with adjoining lounge, is perhaps the most stunning
place at the Boulder Garden. It is simply a flat platform made of plain mirror-
polished concrete beneath the largest overhanging rock, with an almost flat
bottom, on the site. The platform is surrounded by a reflecting pool that defines its
edge and separation between the wild jungle and the inhabited space. A slightly
elevated platform under the same rock forms the lounge. A swimming pool, fed by
rain and spring water, stretches out from here into the wilderness, surrounded by a
stone-paved terrace and the huge trees of the rainforest. The feeling of bathing in a
forest pool is one of unique communication with the environment.
The bright blue window shutters of the guest accommodation pick up the
bluish tinge of the local granite.

A dramatic corridor leads from the main public areas to the guest
accommodation. Lamps in niches on the retaining wall light up the way.
Lamp niches on the face of the pool bar light up the pool terrace at night.

The rain- and spring water-fed swimming pool, dappled by day and lit by
night, stretches out into the forest from the warm glow of the dining room
under the rock overhang. The shady, quiet surroundings are a sanctuary
of serenity and beauty in this secluded hideaway, punctuated only by the
occasional malarkey of monkeys and the honk of hornbills.
Kahandakanda
GALLE | ARCHITECT: BRUCE FELL-SMITH

The main organizing element in the architecture of Kahandakanda is a Luis

Baraggan-like 260 foot (80 meter) saffron-colored wall that runs along the length
of the site and acts as a divider between views across the tea and jungle and
Koggala Lake in the distance. Glassless openings in the wall frame views on both
sides. Most of the movement within the complex is along or across the wall. The
large trees on the site also help to confer a sense of place.
The contemporary retreat, set on a prominent bluff 5 miles (9 km) from Galle,
comprises a series of simple free-standing pavilions set around a swimming pool
along or on either side of the saffron wall. The wall provides the necessary
privacy between the individual sleeping pavilions, whilst allowing coherence
between them. The main living area consists of a large living pavilion and a
dining pavilion at one end and a swimming pool and terrace with a vine-covered
patio at the other. In addition, two large reflecting pools flank the walk-way to the
living area.
The living room is partially enclosed with walls and grid-patterned window
openings that allow air to enter and circulate. The dining room, on the other hand,
is totally open to the surrounding garden and views beyond the edge of the terrace.
Each of the sleeping pavilions is also open to the outside, with spectacular views
into the distance. All are constructed of the simple palette of materials inspired by
the local architecture: plaster walls, polished cement floors, timber plank ceilings
and timber framework with half-round terracotta tiles. The simple orthogonal
geometry of the pavilions, along with the large expanses of water, create the type
of serenity associated with a local monastic complex.
Mirroring the style of the interior designer owner, the décor throughout the
resort stands out for its ethnic luxury and panache. The brilliant orange of the
outside wall provides the most striking color contrast to the predominantly black-
and-white theme. Most of the furniture comes from the Workshop in Bentota.
Chairs are generally made of a stainless steel frame mounted with timber slats,
usually teak, but equally often of the timber of the kitul tree or fishtail palm.
Modern cane divans and chairs are complemented by a few well-chosen antiques
and other artifacts.

Perched along the ridge adjacent to the sitting pavilion, the dining pavilion
glows at dusk.
Black-and-white ticking complemented by cotton checked cushions cover
a contemporary cane sofa at the back of the half-open sitting pavilion. The
timber feet on the glazed coffee table come from a nineteenth-century
passion play figure. The Buddha is modern gilded Thai. The lamps, from a
collection by Swiss designer Rico Tarawella, are aluminum and stainless
steel.

A table for ten with a solid teak top and stainless steel bases lies in the
center of the open-sided dining pavilion. The stainless steel and leather
chairs, also designed by Rico Tarawella, are locally made.
A modern batik hanging by Ena de Silva hangs over a contemporary
console flanked by reproduction nineteenth-century chairs. The cane box
on the console is a traditional Sri Lankan piece while the boxes stacked
below the console are Burmese.
Under its soaring timber ceiling, the master bedroom opens out to wide
vistas over the coconut trees. Contemporary furniture inspired by colonial
models creates a sparse, almost minimalist interior, softened by the
traditional cotton mosquito net and massed cushions. The clean cement
terrazzo floor glows with a soft shine, reflecting the sky on to the ceiling
above.
The long swimming pool runs almost the entire length of the
Kahandakanda villa resort outside of Galle (page 176), reflecting the walls
and sky.
The pavilions are set on the crest of the hill to take advantage of the views
across the tops of the coconut palms. Indian slate pavers define the path
to the formal sitting room and the entrance, which is flanked by an old
hardwood tree and a fragrant frangipani.
The Baragganesque wall cuts across the landscape providing the initial
parti pris for the design, as well as the main organizing principle for the
scheme.
The plain polished cement floors and soaring timber and tile roof of the
main sitting room pavilion allude to Buddhist preaching halls of the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Local handloom fabrics from the
design house Paradise Road soften contemporary cane and steel
furniture. The day bed in the foreground, with its distinctive Paradise Road
cushions, is antique ebony. The black aluminum grilles on the windows add
to the black-and-white theme in the soft furnishings.
Brief
BENTOTA | ARCHITECT: BEVIS BAWA

Brief is the legendary garden estate of the late Bevis Bawa, artist and aide-de-
camp to four governors of Ceylon and elder brother of famed architect Geoffrey
Bawa. Located along the south coast near Bentota, close to Geoffrey’s garden
Lunuganga (page 154), the estate reputedly got its name from being part of a brief
given to their father Benjamin Bawa, a prominent Sinhalese lawyer, for a case he
had presented at the Supreme court of the then Ceylon. The estate, planted in
rubber at the time, was eventually inherited by Bevis, the elder of his two sons,
who went on to make a part of it a tropical paradise for his own pleasure. Now
open to the public, the first Sri Lankan private garden to be so, it has become a
place for people of all walks of life to wander around and wonder about the
colorful life of the man who created it.
Unlike Geoffrey’s attempts at Lunuganga to convert tropical wilderness into an
Italian garden, Bevis’s Brief is almost entirely Sri Lankan in concept and spirit
and reflects his keen interest in horticulture. The garden has been designed as a
series of compositions with a tight sequence of space surrounding the main house.
A treasury of exotic plants fills the relatively small space, all arranged to
ultimately give a feeling of tropical plentitude.
Access to the property is across a marsh and village. The road arrives at a
forecourt planted in the middle with an exotic palm. The eccentrically designed
gates with satyrs and plants growing on and off them are by the Australian artist
Donald Friend, who lived and worked at the estate for several years. This leads
through an avenue of sealing wax palms to another more enclosed court lined with
bamboo, and the main entrance to the bungalow. The entry leads into a curved
passage that climbs up several feet to the main entrance loggia. Here, at the top of
the stairs is a painting by Friend, full of meticulous and mischievous observations
of Ceylon life. The crumbling painting and loggia overlook meticulously crafted
views of the upper garden through the virtually open house. Vine-covered
pergolas hide the original lines of the house and fuse the internal spaces with the
outside, making the outside as much a part of the complex of living spaces as the
inside. The upper garden, as much of the rest of it, is a series of intimate enclosed
gardens, each opening off a particular room and then connected to each other,
through doorways and gates, including the brick built moon gate connecting the
garden of the master bedroom with the terrace of the main living space. Another
such garden contains the bathing space for the guest in that room, a grotto with
glassy-eyed satyr spewing water to shower from. Other amusing sculptures
abound in the upper garden.

Light metal shelves holding a collection of Hindu temple bronzes from

various periods form a light screen between the entrance hall and the
living room. The antique turned columns frame the brilliantly lit garden
beyond. This contrast of light and shade is part of the magic of tropical
living.
The back veranda of the guest suite is a tranquil refuge among a riot of
lush green vegetation. Antique turned columns support a simple
corrugated cement sheet roof above a floor laid with terracotta tiles. An
old Dutch planter’s armchair is paired with a modern reproduction of the
classic steel frame and leather butterfly chair.
A sculpture of a young man is silhouetted against light streaming in from
the main entrance door on the stairs leading to the hall.

Inside, the original structure of the colonial plantation bungalow has been
transformed beyond recognition. Antique furniture, art, sculpture and photographic
memorabilia are all testimony to Bevis Bawa’s good taste and his enjoyment of
life.
Vine-clad pergolas extend the main loggia into the garden. Antique
furniture blends harmoniously with Bevis’s collection of art, including
exquisite sketches by Laki Senanayake.
The front door to the main house is set in a large bamboo hedge encircling
the paved driveway, its roof hidden under a magnificent sprawling white
bougainvillea.
The depths of the inner sitting room, shaded by vine-clad pergolas,
provide a cool retreat from the harsh midday sun. A nineteenth-century
rattan sofa sits comfortably alongside cotton upholstered chesterfields, a
modern travertine-topped coffee table and side tables formed of
traditional Sri Lankan brass betel trays. Books and sculptures line the
walls.
Details of a mural by Australian artist Donald Friend in the entrance hall of
the bungalow, illustrating Sri Lanka as the favored site of the Hindu god
Skanda. Bevis Bawa had met the artist on a ship sailing from Colombo to
Italy in 1949 and had invited him to stay when next in Colombo. Friend
took up the offer in 1957 and stayed for several years. He built a studio in
Bevis’s garden and experimented prolifically with various media—bas
relief tiles, painted doors, gold-leaf paintings, aluminum sculptures and
murals— many of which remain at Brief as mementoes of his friendship
with Bevis.
The Club Villa
BENTOTA | ARCHITECT: GEOFFREY BAWA

Classic colonial-style cement posts and salvaged timber balusters frame

the view from the sitting room of immaculate lawns and coconut palms.

Set in the middle of a coconut plantation, a stone’s throw away from the beach at
Bentota, the Club Villa was originally built in 1979 by the architect Geoffrey
Bawa as a beach house for the present owners, who were then managers of
another hotel further up the beach. Since then, the original four bedrooms, living
room, dining room and staff areas have been expanded to a sixteen-bedroom
beach inn. Although not a building of the colonial era, the inspiration for its
current form—the traditional combination of plaster walls, stone and cement
floors and half-round tiled roofs, and the use of salvaged building materials and
period furniture—is decidely colonial.
From the driveway, a veranda enveloped in stunning pink bougainvillea leads
to a small entrance court lined with black-and white-photos by Sri Lankan
photographer Lionel Wendt. A garden door leads off this to the main lounge, which
is set in a beautiful courtyard containing a small reflecting pool fed by water from
a huge steel bowl. The far end of the lounge opens out to the garden, a small
swimming pool and the sea beyond. The sweeping manicured lawns, the
soporifically swaying coconut trees and two large barringtonia trees are a study in
mimimalism.

A window niche in a bedroom overlooks the brightly lit garden beyond. The
chairs are an adaptation of the 1960s design used extensively in hotels
designed by Geoffrey Bawa at that time.
Majestic antique turned columns hold up a tiled roof on the sea side of the
detached bedroom block. The balcony in front is a quiet and tranquil spot
for reading or relaxing by day or listening to the tropical night sounds.
In the original sitting room designed by Geoffrey Bawa, an antique lamp
lights up part of a wall mural in biro and permanent marker by Sri Lankan
artist Laki Senanayake.
A hallmark yellow ochre wall provides a backdrop to an eighteenth-century
chest, a modern granite Ganesh from Sri Lanka and a lamp made from an
old furniture leg.

The main sitting room, with its blue-tinted cement tiles, contains an
eclectic mixture of objects. Bright cotton cushions accessorizing the built-in
seat are color co-ordinated with the modern reproduction from an Indian
Jain/Cosmic painting. The white-painted coffee table, a combination of a
modern top and eighteenth-century legs, is flanked by chairs of
nineteenth-century design. The white trimmed timber doors are typical of
the colonial period.

A passage alongside a row of ground-floor bedrooms and a courtyard planted

with Rafis palms leads to the colonnaded dining room, furnished with elegant
British-period furniture. In an eccentric twist, one of the walls is painted a bright
yellow! Other bedrooms are arranged above the lounge, bar and dining room, and
in an entirely detached block built closer to the sea. The interiors of the bedrooms
are meticulously decorated with local handloom materials and art by local artists.
The furniture, as in all the other areas, is either original or copies of classic
pieces of colonial and modern design. Because each type of bedroom is furnished
in a slightly different way and also has a different aspect, the inn feels very much
like a rambling old colonial mansion built over several centuries although it has
been only a mere ten years between the building of the original house by Geoffrey
Bawa and the later additions.

A vista of old wood-turned columns leading to the open dining area

culminates in an Indian bronze image of Ganesh, the elephant god,
dancing.
Encased in a simple cement shell, the bedroom is a cool oasis amidst a
plethora of plants that greet the occupants at every turn. At one end of the
room, Balinese masks watch over the bathtub, lined in mosaic tiles, which
is set into the floor.
A Garden in the East
TRINCOMALEE | ARCHITECT: UNKNOWN

A small Balinese statue pays homage in the guest courtyard, which is filled
with water plants.

Between November and January each year, the Maha Vehi or “great rains” bring a
deluge to green the land along the northeast coast of Sri Lanka. For the rest of the
year, the dry climate makes for the typical monsoon forest and vegetation
characteristic of the area, except in one place. North of Trincomallee is a garden
in which the emerald green of the island lingers throughout the year in a lush
evocation of the tropical idyll. Lovingly created over a period of twenty years, the
garden represents a myriad of ideas from various garden traditions, fused to
become the retreat for an artist and her partner. A series of walk-ways and vistas,
arbors and pergolas drip with tropical vegetation, creating a garden for the mind
and a feast for the eyes. The house itself opens into the garden and becomes one
with it, and is indeed the centerpiece of life in this Utopian enclave.
 The garden is accessed along a broad gravel road shaded by rows of trees and
shrubs. Seemingly simple pavilions make up the residential part of the estate, but
the way the internal spaces open out to the surrounding gardens is remarkable.
Simple concrete screens, painted white in many places, allow the buildings to
breathe. They also allow the garden to be all-pervasive. The house becomes a
covered garden within the greater open garden.
The main living space is a pavilion open to two sides of the garden off which
the other living areas and service areas open. Elegant cloth-covered furniture is
complemented by beautiful art works, some by the artist herself, others by her
close artist friends. Wherever possible, the bedrooms, too, are directly and fully
open to the garden as are the bathrooms.
The garden itself is organized about two axes, one running through the center
of the house towards the sea, the other a cross axis to this one. They alone make
sense of the profusion of growth in this most unlikely place.
POSTSCRIPT: On December 26th, 2004, “a wall of grey water with a little crest
of white on top” washed it all away, as it did the lives of many others who lived
on the coast around Sri Lanka.

A splendid stand of bamboo (Bambusa vugaris) surrounded by alocasia

plants marks the edge of the formal living terrace.
Concrete screens moderate the sun streaming into the main living space,
which is open on two sides to the garden, while allowing breezes to flow
through. The bamboo-slatted ceiling, cement-tiled floor, cotton-covered
furniture, warm-toned painting of the garden and ethnic artifacts all add to
the charm of this simple room.
Early sun streams into the studio through the stands of bamboo on the
edge of the main living terrace, lighting up the artist’s work table and an
antique brass water carrier from northern Sri Lanka. The table itself is a
single plank of para para wood.
A plain muslin mosquito net hangs above the bed at the other end of the
bedroom, complemented by a colorful painted cloth temple hanging from
India. The window above the wooden sideboard looks over the main living
room terrace and pergola.

The house, which merges seamlessly and sensitively with the

environment, is a study in simplicity. Bougainvillea covers most of the roof
of the house, here seen from the back end. Other plants such as Roheo
and Agave grow in great abundance on the lawn.
Aluvihare Walauwe
ALUVIHARE, MATALE | DESIGNER: ENA DE SILVA

Soft morning light catches the lush vegetation around the lily pond in the
garden. Three morning blooming water lilies greet the sun.

Ancient seats of aristocratic families are often perceived as staid and old-
fashioned places full of family heirlooms carefully preserved as a memorial to
past glory. The Walauwe or Manor House at Aluvihare, Matale, in the northern
foothills of the central massif, is a far cry from this. Although it is full of priceless
heirlooms, it is lived in with a freshness and gusto that is hard to match. Its owner,
Ena de Silva Aluvihare, is also an artist. She works mainly within the medium of
batik and traditional Kandyan embroidery—both crafts which she has helped to
resurrect in Sri Lanka by establishing co-operatives with village women. Her
house is a crucible for experimentation in several of her thoughts and is akin to
one of her magnificent works.
 The old house, built by Ena’s father to replace an older family seat, is of
modern origin. Its setting overlooking the Matale valley and looking across at the
Knuckles Range to the east is nothing short of breathtaking. Having moved to the
old house from her Colombo residence, No. 5, Alfred Place, built by architect
Geoffrey Bawa (page 122), Ena has transformed its interior into a veritable
kaleidoscope of color, form and shape. Although at first glance it appears to be an
untrameled display, it is clearly a disciplined approach to making an interior.
Every surface is embroidered and decorated and no wall or ceiling has escaped
attention. Ancient block-printed cloths hang alongside modern painted walls and
handicrafts, while priceless antique furniture vies for attention with magnificent
embroidery and needlework. The interior is, in fact, not very different from the
completely painted walls and ceilings of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century
Kandyan temples where no surface is spared the attention of the artist.

Superb Sri Lankan food is served to visiting guests at the Alu Kitchens
One, an enterprise of the craft workshop on the premises. Here, the table
is set in a veranda overlooking the rich home garden filled with jack, areca
nut, coconut and other fruit trees.
An exuberant collection of exotic codieatum species and other plants form
a border along the front of the house. The shadow of a giant tamarind
softens the early morning sun on the house.

The entrance to the main living space is through the door to the right of
the arrangement of wax flowers—made in the craft shop on the premises
—sitting atop an eighteenth-century chest. A collection of Indo-Portuguese
furniture is lost beneath embroidered cushions and throws, as are the
dining table and chairs. Paintings on the walls and columns, based on
designs from fragments of original painting on wood in the ceilings of
seventeenth-century temples, meld into the painted surface. Other walls
are covered by old trade cloths, some block-printed in Sri Lanka and
others from India used in the East India trade. Batik reproductions of the
county flags of the Kandyan kingdom hang down over the dining area.

The house, which sits on the edge of a high escarpment, is arranged about two
axes. The main entrance axis runs through the central living spaces to the
temporary Cadjan shed veranda at the back, while the cross axis links the two side
wings of the house with the bedrooms and kitchens. From the platform of the front
garden, filled with plants of almost every shape and color, the house is entered
through large glass doors. A handsome Dutch-period chest topped by an elaborate
arrangement of plastic and wax paper flowers forms a “screen” between the
entrance and the central dining table. On either side are two intimate sitting areas
filled to overflowing with heirloom antique chaise longues and chairs. The
furniture is piled high with cushions and every imaginable type of cloth work,
from embroidery to batik and crochet!
The dining table is placed at the meeting of the two axes, where there once
was a wall and a dark corridor. The wall was removed and what is left of it is
supported by two antique columns. The corridor is present as an alcove in the
ceiling, which is hung with batik flags representing the various regions of the
Kandyan provinces. The table setting changes from time to time in color and
texture. However, it never fails to bear a highly elaborate arrangement of dry, wax
and fresh flowers placed on at least five layers of tablecloth. The table is set at all
times, with fresh hibiscus in finger bowls announcing every meal, a fitting setting
for the magical meals of traditional rice and eighteen curries that are constantly
served at the table.
A cloth-lined lounge with a large English oak table is located behind the
dining area. The cloths themselves are old trade cloths from the East India trade,
pinned on to the walls and ceiling. Further elaborately covered furniture is
presided over by a magnificent Dutch-period cupboard encrusted with typical
Kandyan brass work. The Cadjan roofed veranda outside this space extends the
living area into the lush back garden, where there is a profusion of plants to equal
those in the front garden, and links the main house to the garage and outhouses.
Each of the three bedrooms is decorated in Ena’s inimitable style. As in the
rest of the house, every imaginable surface is worked on. Each room also contains
at least two large beds covered with magnificent embroidered bedspreads in
traditional Kandyan designs. Antique Dutch almirah are complemented by
brilliantly worked cupboards decorated with paper and paint.

Plastic flowers, fancy glass objects and an old brass candlestand on a

patchwork table cloth, together with the painted cupboard in the
background, set the tone for the decoration in the guest bedroom.
Finger bowls with a floating hibiscus are de rigeur at the table. Here, batik
table mats placed on a crocheted table cloth over another table cloth of
batik form an eclectic setting.
Simple timber shelves in the brightly painted kitchen are crammed with the
ingredients and utensils required to whip up a delicious Sri Lankan meal.
Apa Villas
THALPE | DESIGNER: CHAN SAU YAN

The Apa Villas overlook a magnificent coral beach where stilt fishermen
still sit. The complex, constructed from a simple palette of materials,
originally comprised a simple two-bedroomed house on the beach to
which two guest wings were later added, the first centered on the long,
slightly raised lap pool, and the other one a higher-roofed double-roomed
pavilion at the far end of the garden.

The coast at Thalpe, 3 miles (5 km) south of the port city of Galle, has become the
setting for a string of beach villas for those out to avoid the urban pleasures on
offer in the seventeenth-century fort. Thalpe, with its picture book coastline, has
changed from a sleepy fishing village to a wall of villas looking out to the sea on
the thin strip of land between the Galle Road and beach. Apa Villas, three
colonial-style villas situated in a coconut grove, is one of these and is named by
its owner in honor of the extremely successful series of travel guides he founded
in the 1980s.
Like its counterpart Iluketiya in the hinterland, Apa Villas takes its inspiration
from the simple vernacular building traditions of Sri Lanka. A minimal palette of
coconut wood columns and plaster walls coupled with roofs of half-round
terracotta tiles and plain polished cement rendered floors, allows the villas to
blend harmoniously with their natural surroundings. Most of the furniture is built
in, with handloom cushions in a subdued palette thrown in for comfort.
Bathrooms, too, consist of minimal ceramic tiling with polished cement bowls set
in cement vanity counters.
Entry to the elegant villas is through a courtyard open to the entrance court off
the highway and into the main sitting area, which in turn opens into a veranda
overlooking a lawn with coconut trees and the sea. A long infinity-edge lap pool
appears to merge with the Indian Ocean beyond. The main sitting area contains
two large built-in sofa seats and a stainless steel dining table, invariably adorned
with an exotic flower arrangement. The two end walls are lined with bookshelves
housing locally made artifacts as well as the entire collection of Apa guidebooks,
whose spines form a tapestry of background color in the formal but stylish room.
All of the bedroom suites have built-in four-poster beds and an adjoining
sitting area filled with a simple built-in ledge, day bed and sofa. The half-open
bathrooms of the new guest villas are situated in verandas off the bedrooms, each
overlooking its own courtyard.
Although there is a formal living and dining room, guests spend much of their
time lounging on the wide verandas facing the sea, enjoying the monsoon winds,
the swaying palms and the surf rolling into the shore.
The long lap pool, raised slightly above the level of the lawn, extends from
the central veranda towards the sea and horizon, ending in a timber deck.
The formal sitting room-cum-reading room at Apa Villas is situated directly
behind the entrance courtyard. It is also the venue for communal dinners
on festive occasions. The built-in cement shelves are filled with small
objets d’art and the entire set of Apa guides. The dining chairs originate
from a Scandinavian design of the 1960s via the Geoffrey Bawa office
and have been adapted with stainless steel and teak by the Swiss
designer Rico Tarawella and made at the Workshop in Bentota. A small
wooden canoe sits on top of the bookshelves.
The deep, shady veranda with its broad overhanging roof, cool polished
cement floors and timber columns is where the owners and their guests
spend much of their time at Apa Villas.

The vernacular ambience is tempered in the bedrooms by the use of

extensive built-in furniture. Here, the sitting area is almost entirely built in
except for the modern teakwood coffee table. The neutral tones of the
upholstery are offset by faux leopard skin and warm yellow cushions.
In the entrance courtyard, contemporary depictions of a Western
gentleman holding a bird and a local grandee, both painted in the
nineteenth-century southern style, form attractive backdrops to colonial
chairs and polished floors.
Acknowledgments

For a book three years in the making, the list of persons to thank and acknowledge
would obviously exceed the limitations of space allotted here. So we will restrain
ourselves! First and foremost, our thanks to our editors and publisher who very
kindly and patiently put up with us as we waited for the soft morning light to touch
the weather-beaten surface on that particular day of the year in the second
monsoon with wind blowing from the northeast.
Equally we wish to thank all the owners of the properties, whose unfailing
patience and graciousness in letting us invade their privacy makes the book what it
is. Since many of them specifically asked not to be mentioned, we remain silent on
all their identities. Some we cannot go without mentioning, even if they want us
not to. Anjalendran for his unfailing criticism and encouragement. We think we
still fall far short of his high standards, but it motivated us to be clear about how
we approached this book. Professor David Robson for his patient reading of the
first drafts and being an indulgent host. Kaushik Mukkerjee, Priyanka
Samaraweera, P. G. Dinesha Dilrukshi and Shiromi Rajapakse, whose hard work
and company made our lives easier. And mostly to our families and friends for
putting up with never-ending descriptions of a book that lately even they—firm
believers in us— seemed to doubt would ever come out.