Walking the Campus: Architecture at CEE, Ahmedabad
Phenomenology, at its core, asks us to begin not with analysis, but with experience. Before we name, measure, or judge space, we live it. Edmund Husserl argued that experience precedes theory, while Martin Heidegger reframed architecture as something far more than an object to be viewed it is the setting of everyday dwelling. Architecture, in this sense, is not something we look at from a distance, but something that holds us, shelters us, and becomes part of our routines. Later thinkers like Maurice Merleau-Ponty remind us that we understand space through the body through walking, pausing, adjusting, and remembering. With this understanding, the Centre for Environmental Education in Ahmedabad can be read not as a visual composition, but as a lived landscape.
As you arrive at the CEE campus in Thaltej Tekra, there is no dramatic gateway announcing entry. The site is rocky and uneven, and the architecture does not attempt to overpower it. Designed by Neelkanth Chhaya in the early 1990s, the campus feels almost embedded into the terrain rather than placed upon it. This restraint reflects an approach aligned with Critical Regionalism, as described by Kenneth Frampton an architecture rooted in local climate, material, and culture without resorting to symbolism or spectacle. Even before you consciously think about it, the building begins to teach by how quietly it sits.
Your experience of CEE unfolds through movement. You do not arrive all at once; instead, you enter gradually along shaded paths that follow the natural contours of the land. The body becomes aware of subtle shifts the crunch of gravel underfoot, the slope of the ground, the relief of shade after sun. This slow, meandering approach resists instant comprehension and encourages attentiveness. As Merleau-Ponty suggests, space is understood not as a static form but through the body in motion. This movement is not only horizontal but vertical; as the land rises and falls, one is constantly stepping up, down, and across, reinforcing awareness of the body’s position in space. This movement changes with the seasons: in summer the shaded paths become essential routes of comfort, while during monsoon these same paths slow the body down further, demanding caution and awareness of wet ground and changing textures.
Exisitng trees have been retained
As you move deeper into the campus, buildings appear in clusters rather than as a single mass. Courtyards, verandahs, and open corridors stitch these clusters together, creating a sequence of thresholds rather than hard boundaries. These in-between spaces are where life on campus truly happens. You notice people sitting along shaded edges, leaning against walls, gathering on steps. These moments are not programmed, yet they feel entirely natural. Christopher Alexander’s idea of patterns drawn from everyday life becomes tangible here architecture supporting informal social interaction without forcing it. In several parts of the campus, the floor you walk on at one level quietly becomes the roof or terrace of a space below, blurring distinctions between ground, building, and landscape. However, this informality is also seasonal: the low walls and steps that invite sitting in winter or early mornings often become unusable during harsh summers or monsoon rains, temporarily altering patterns of occupation and gathering.
Materiality plays a quiet but powerful role in shaping atmosphere. Exposed brick, stone, and concrete dominate the campus, their textures catching light differently throughout the day. These are materials that feel warm, rough, and grounded. They do not hide their age; instead, they allow time to leave its mark. As Peter Zumthor argues, materials carry memory and mood, and at CEE the ageing surfaces contribute to a sense of continuity and calm. When floors double as terraces or roofs, these same materials are experienced both underfoot and overhead, reinforcing a tactile continuity between walking, sheltering, and resting. In different seasons, these materials are felt differently stone floors that remain cool in summer may feel cold and less inviting in winter, subtly shifting how long one chooses to stay. The building does not strive to remain new; it allows itself to grow older with its users
As you linger, you begin to notice how the campus invites certain actions without instruction. Low walls become seats. Steps become gathering spaces. Shaded corners encourage pause. Through James Gibson’s idea of affordances, these architectural elements suggest use without dictating behaviour. Nothing tells you where to sit or how long to stay, the space simply makes lingering feel permissible. Terraces that emerge from roofs act as extensions of circulation rather than destinations, allowing pause, viewing, or movement without formal designation. Yet these affordances are not fixed; during peak summer afternoons or heavy rains, the same seating edges are avoided, showing how affordance is shaped by climate as much as by form.
What stands out most is the absence of control. Unlike many institutional buildings that rely on rigid boundaries, surveillance, and formal circulation, CEE feels open and negotiable. Movement is not restricted, and occupation feels fluid. As discussed in the Psychospatial Dimensions of Space, architecture often shapes behaviour subtly. At CEE, this shaping happens not through authority, but through comfort, choice, and trust. The continuity between floors, roofs, and terraces further dissolves hierarchy, making no single level feel dominant or privileged. Seasonal discomfort does not forbid use, but gently redirects it, reinforcing how behaviour here is guided rather than enforced.
Circulation outside the built spaces follow a linear spinal pattern
Each space is interconnected with the neighboring spaces
Environmental sensitivity here is not expressed through visible technology or explanatory signage. Instead, it is felt bodily in the coolness of shaded courtyards, the thickness of walls that temper heat, and the constant negotiation between inside and outside. Sustainability is not something you are told about; it is something your body understands through repeated experience. By allowing roofs to become usable terraces and floors to serve multiple roles, the architecture reduces separation between built form and open space, encouraging efficient, climate-responsive use of every surface. This understanding deepens over time, as users learn when to seek shade, when to occupy courtyards, and when to retreat indoors, forming seasonal habits rather than fixed routines.
Yet phenomenology also asks us to remain critical. As we walk through this campus, questions emerge alongside comfort. Whose bodies are being accommodated? Who feels free to linger, and who might feel excluded? While CEE encourages openness and informality, these questions remind us that space is never neutral and that experience varies across age, gender, ability, and even tolerance to seasonal extremes.