What defines a city’s identity? Is it the ever-expanding skyline or the vast technology parks? Or is it the memories, traditions, and cultural landmarks that make each neighbourhood unique, while contributing to a larger identity?
Under Project560, an initiative by the India Foundation for the Arts (IFA), many in the city are delving beneath its bustling streets to reveal the often-forgotten charm of Bengaluru’s neighbourhoods, which remains integral to its identity.
Roshini M, a conservation architect, chose to focus on her 75-year-old neighbourhood of Rajajinagar. “I developed a cultural map of Rajajinagar, highlighting significant and culturally important locations,” says Roshini, who aims to raise awareness of its historical value, in contrast to more well-known areas like Malleswaram.
By organising sketching events, she engaged the public at places such as Rajajinagar Memorial Pillar, the lesser-known Rumale Art House, and the Navrang Theatre, built by an Australian architect in the 1960s.
Roshini believes the old charm of these neighbourhoods is poorly documented. “There is still a concept of ‘katte’ here. There’s usually a big Banyan tree with stone benches around it, where people sit, chat, and read newspapers. You don’t find that in the newer neighbourhoods,” she adds.
Visual artist Lakshmi Nagaraj, born in Yelahanka, approached the preservation of her neighbourhood through memory mapping sessions, where residents marked locations tied to their personal memories on maps. “Some people described these places physically, while others focused on how these spaces made them feel,” explains Nagaraj. Her final installation – A 7.5 by 13-foot map – was a visual representation of Yelahanka’s history, featuring drawings based on the memories shared by residents.
One of the first paintings for the project was based on her memory of a boutique that opened during her school days. “I was fascinated by it, but it didn’t last long. That’s what I found intriguing – places that shut down quickly but still left an impression. If no one remembers these places, do they disappear from history altogether?” she wonders. The project also allowed her to reconnect with Yelahanka. “Growing up, I had a complicated relationship with the place, but when I went to college and lived in a hostel, I developed a renewed sense of love for it,” she reflects.
Theatre practitioner Chandra Keerthi B’s research took him back to childhood memories of his maternal great-grandfather’s home in Majestic, where he spent a lot of time. “It can be disheartening to see that the Bengaluru I grew up in no longer exists. It’s crucial to preserve these small yet significant parts of our history because they shape our identities,” says Keerthi, who turned his exploration of the area into a guided walk performance.
“There was an audio track from Lalbagh Metro Station to Majestic Station. Upon reaching Majestic, I transformed into the mythological character Narada, a storyteller who commented on both the present and past of Bengaluru in a humorous way,” he shares. He led participants through the older streets of Majestic, with stops at significant locations such as Priyadarshini Restaurant, the empty lot where Majestic Theatre once stood, his family’s printing press, and his old family home.
Meanwhile, Prithiraj Borah, an assistant professor from Vellore Institute of Technology, chose to explore elements changing the social fabric of Bengaluru’s neighbourhoods. Focusing on the Northeast Indian community in Kalyan Nagar, he discovered small shops and kitchens that sell authentic dishes from the region.
“These shops become a central point for the community, offering people a sense of home in a foreign city,” says Borah, whose exhibition not only featured photographs but also allowed visitors to engage with the food. He observes that such spaces reflect the city’s acceptance of different communities. “Unlike other cities, Bengaluru has always shown much more acceptance, possibly because of its cosmopolitan nature or the diversity of neighbourhoods like Kalyan Nagar,” he adds.