SCULPTING STEEL, SHAPING SOUL

Introduction: Steel is often seen as rigid, industrial, and impersonal, but in the hands of ARCHITECT GURJIT SINGH MATHAROO, it breathes, flexes, and stirs emotion. His deep-rooted design intuition, honed through years of experimentation, mentorship, and memory, transforms steel into a medium of sensitivity and soul. In this reflective conversation, he shares personal anecdotes, structural wisdom, and timeless design truths that continue to shape his iconic steel expressions.

Steel is often seen as cold and mechanical, yet your work with it feels remarkably warm, expressive, and sculptural. What draws you to this material time and again?

The strength and precision of steel are what draw me to it, not just physically, but philosophically. When structural solutions are optimised, beauty emerges as a natural outcome. Warmth and sculpture are not imposed on steel; they are revealed through thoughtful use.

Let me share a moment from our Net House project. A floating glass staircase rested lightly on steel brackets. Initially, the treads tilted slightly underfoot. We explored remedies like mockups, added clamps, but eventually, the clients chose to retain the original design. “We have grown fond of the slight bounce,” they told us. That tactile, almost human response, it could only have been achieved with steel. And with clients sensitive enough to embrace that gentle resilience.

Your designs seem effortless, but we know steel demands structural acrobatics behind the scenes. How do you balance architectural purity with engineering complexity?

Our architectural intent always leads. Steel is a silent enabler, never decorative, always deliberate. Precision is about using the right amount of material, in the right place, for the right reason. It takes rigour, and it takes restraint. But when done right, the result feels inevitable.

“The warmth and sculpture you see in our work—it’s never imposed. It’s revealed.”

How do you push steel to serve poetic or conceptual intentions without losing its innate strength?

Much of our approach comes from the foundation laid by mentors like my father, Prof. Rajendra Singh Matharoo – a structural designer, and Prof. M.C. Gajjar – an architectural advisor. They grounded us in first principles. We were constantly challenged with every sketch questioned, every joint refined. The poetry you see is born out of this rigour, guided by teams who believed just as deeply in craft as in concept.

Can you walk us through a project where steel redefined the design narrative?

When we received the brief for Net House, Ahmedabad, a weekend home on the outskirts of the city, a space that embraced the wilderness yet offered all creature comforts it instantly evoked childhood memories of sleeping outdoors under a machhardani, that delicate yet protective net shelter. That image became the starting point. The design evolved into a 12×12 m column-free space, sheltered by a monolithic 90 tonne concrete slab, suspended delicately by an intricate steel spaceframe.

The steel members resolve themselves into slender mullions that support a skin of net-like shutters, allowing the home to breathe with the landscape. The entire roof appears to hover, its only visible connection to the earth being a 150 mm steel pipe. This pipe doesn’t just connect; it performs. Rainwater collected from the slab travels down through it and then springs back up at a vertical column to form a gentle fountain, before flowing into a 1.4 million litre underground reservoir, harvesting every drop of monsoon rain.

Glass treads and a handrail entwine around this water column, forming a light, transparent stairway offering the poetic experience of ascending a stream of water. A structure that began with a nostalgic memory finds its resolution in steel, light, and movement.

In your experience, how does steel differ from other materials not just physically, but emotionally and culturally, within the Indian architectural psyche?

My earliest exposure to steel was the rails (railway tracks) which were used as girders to increase the limited spans offered by 10 ft long stone, ‘pattis’ slabs in our house in Rajasthan. Then there were the cast iron pipes, railings and grills that were require in any building. My father was a gymnast, so additionally we had two rings suspended from the rail which as children we used to climb on, swing along and entwine with. For us steel was associated with security, strength and play, vital aspects which we use it for even today.

“If you are sensitive, steel will teach you everything.”

You are known for your obsession with detail and finish. What are some key lessons you have learned while working with steel joints, hinges, or cantilevers that you think every architect should know?

When welding replaced rivets and bolts, I thought we had lost the craft. But then came TIG, plasma, beam welding, and with it, monolithic beauty. The ball bearing, too, is steel’s understated wonder. It gives movement, grace, and balance to a material often seen as rigid. Where welds hold firm, bearings set steel free.

How has your experience in object-making influenced your approach to designing larger structures in steel?

Designing small details like a Ducati trellis frame or a Castiglioni lamp teaches you clarity and economy. These fundamentals scale effortlessly. A light trellis for a motorcycle becomes a structural logic for a cantilever. Steel is universal in that way, as it does not change with size; only our perspective does.

Steel Meets Spirit

At the Lakhpat Gurudwara Sahib, steel doesn’t dominate. It bows. The descending PEB structure becomes a silent, sacred gesture, one of reverence and grace.

Precision in steel demands discipline. How hands-on are you during fabrication?

Over the years, the overall quality of fabrication has improved significantly with advancements like laser cutting, CNC machining, PEB systems, and parametric modelling marking clear leaps forward. That said, no matter how sophisticated the tools, one must remain vigilant. Precision on paper doesn’t always translate to precision on site. It is essential to stay hands-on, reviewing and verifying every detail before anything goes into fabrication or execution. There’s simply no substitute for on-ground scrutiny.

Let me share an experience. Years ago, after teaching a welder, I watched a joint without protection. That night, I woke up with near-complete blindness – photokeratitis. I stumbled to a hospital where confused interns debated my condition until a cleaning lady walked in and said, without hesitation, “Welding joi che.” (He’s seen welding.) She was right.

The lesson? Be there. See everything. Nothing is too small to matter.

How do you use steel not just as structure, but as sensory experience?

Structural steel offers the ability to create exceptionally fine, slender edges, and its profiled sections cast deep shadows that further accentuate their lightness. At the ‘Net House’, for instance, a substantial concrete slab appears to float effortlessly between steel columns, a visual sleight achieved by concealing aluminium window frames within the steel sections, rendering the columns as barely-there mullions. In the 12 m cantilever at Ranthambore Bagh, the hollowed-out sections amplify the sense of weightlessness, defying expectations. And at the Lakhpat Gurudwara Sahib, the PEB steel structure gracefully descends from the dome to the ground, as though bowing in reverence, a structural gesture that feels almost sacred.

Is there a project where steel allowed you to challenge conventional ideas of space?

While designing a resort for activists Aditya Dicky and Poonam Singh, the couple also needed a temporary residence that could function as their home until the full project was built. The catch? The site had limited permission to build. Only a small footprint was allowed across the ground and first floors, making it inadequate for their needs. We explored options like container housing, tents, even trailer-style living, but none felt permanent or meaningful enough.

Interestingly, the regulations permitted a “porch” provided it was cantilevered from the main structure. So we took the terms ‘as long as’ and ‘cantilevered’ quite literally, and extended the porch 40 ft in one direction and 20 ft in another. That cantilever now houses the master and daughter’s suites. Eventually, when they received approval to build more on the ground, we asked if we should finally anchor the cantilever. Their response was immediate and heartfelt — “No, we love it like this.”

How do you view steel in the age of AI, parametrics, and robotics?

These technologies are incredible when used for optimisation. They minimise material wastage, enhance precision, improve quality, and save invaluable time. However, a growing trend concerns me: using these tools to generate form and pattern for the sake of novelty, often divorced from purpose or context. Robotics, especially, holds the potential to revolutionise fabrication, much like it already has in the automobile industry. And perhaps most significantly, it can help us move away from the inhumane realities of traditional steel construction. Images like workers perched precariously on girders of New York skyscrapers, or welders enduring 45°C tropical heat, are haunting reminders of what we must evolve beyond. These tools are not just about design; they hold the promise of dignity in construction.

What would you tell young architects hesitant to explore steel?

Steel is sustainable, reusable, and incredibly efficient when designed right. Respect its character. Understand its expansion, contraction, and weight. And most importantly, stick to first principles. If you are sensitive, steel will teach you everything.

“From Machhardani to Masterpiece”

A memory of childhood netting under open skies sparked the idea for Net House, a floating slab, net shutters, and a steel pipe that became both structure and fountain. When steel tells a story, even rain becomes part of the choreography.