can mass housing be planned so that its residents finish it?
Migrant housing at Maan Darwaza, Surat, two hundred units linked and stacked into clusters that leave room for what comes after the plan.
Surat is a diamond and textile city that draws migrants from the whole country, and it houses them badly: isolated towers, or rehabilitation on the outskirts far from the work. The studio brief was the history of mass housing, utopias drawn on empty ground, turned toward a real site: Maan Darwaza, a dense migrant neighbourhood on a polluted creek. The question was Foucault's word, heterotopia, taken literally: a real place where several communities' arrangements sit side by side, and where the plan leaves the last move to the people who live in it.
- (role)
- urban design studio · housing · model
- (period)
- 2019 · one semester
- (context)
- maan darwaza · surat · cept L2 studio
- (status)
- studio

A neighbourhood on a creek
Surat is the first ally to Mumbai on the western coast: diamonds, textiles, and migrants from every state to work them. Its answer to housing them has been towers, isolated from the mixed-use fabric the city has always had, or redevelopment on the outskirts, away from the work. Maan Darwaza is where many of them actually live: a dense neighbourhood on a creek that is at once the settlement's edge, its dump and its washing ground.
The studio's frame was the history of mass housing (linking and stacking, Tietgenkollegiet and its Hakka precedents, the utopias) and its demand was that the housing be designed for at least two communities on the same ground, as a live-work habitat rather than shelter.



Heights, use, gender, sound, community
Before any unit was drawn, the blocks were mapped five ways: building heights, land use, gender density, sound, community. The maps are dull on their own and sharp together: where the women are, where the noise is, which lane belongs to whom. Alongside them, sketches of the spaces each community had already made for itself: a shrine in a stair, a tailor's front step, plants on a ledge. What people had built without a plan set the brief for the plan.

One room, many arrangements
The unit is a one-bedroom module. Everything else is how it links and stacks. The study models ran through rings, chains and open courts: how many modules make a cluster, where the stairs land, how a terrace is left over for the unit below. The two- and three-bedroom units are the same module extended, and the space left open or covered beside them is deliberately left unfinished, as room for the inhabitant to expand over time.




Seven or eight units to a community
The number that mattered was seven or eight units to a cluster: small enough for one community to live with itself, arranged around a court it shares with no one else. The clusters meet at staggered nodes, and the nodes are where the staircases are, so that two communities climb the same stair. The commercial lane cuts the site into three: a garage yard for those who work in the garages, an inter-community open ground, and the daily-needs edge.




Two hundred units, five hundred people
Two hundred units for five hundred people, on 4,100 square metres of existing built area. Four unit types, a single migrant's room, a 43 square metre four-person dwelling and two two-person variants, from one module. The rings thin as they rise, so the roofs are the open space the ground cannot spare, and the whole steps down toward the creek.



In card
The final model is card and mount board. The clusters read as what they were meant to be: not blocks but rings of terraces, each court open to the sky, each roof someone's yard.


What the section is for
The section holds the whole idea. Shops under, dwellings over; the terraces and courts as the life between; the creek at the end of it, made an edge worth reaching. Every utopia is drawn on empty ground. This one is drawn on Maan Darwaza's, and leaves the last move to the people who will live there.
