Doha Renaissance: Msheireb Reborn
This chapter is about how to build contemporary architecture in Doha, the fast-changing capital of Qatar. One translation of the word Doha in Arabic is ‘a place in the desert which is habitable’. But is the city really habitable, with temperatures in the high-40s©C and even low-50s©C for a few months each year, combined with its dust-ridden air and extreme humidity? Thanks to air-conditioning and the motor car, the answer is ‘yes’. However does Doha offer as comfortable a lifestyle as it could, and if we look into the future, can this lifestyle be sustained or, even better, improved for citizens?
I will focus on a project for the rebirth of a significant piece of Doha’s city centre, just south of the Amiri Diwan and west of the newly revived Souk Waqif. This ambitious project is being brought about by Msheireb Properties, an offspring of the Qatar Foundation, under the leadership of Her Highness Sheikha Mozah bint Nasser. The project began as the ‘Heart of Doha’ and indeed, when looking at the city’s radiating plan, it lies right at the heart of the old city. Now it is being called Msheireb, the original name of this neighbourhood and which means ‘Place of Sweet Water’. The Msheireb project consists of a high-density, medium-rise, mixed-use masterplan, covering about 35 hectares. The masterplan is by Arup and AECOM, the latter company having acquired EDAW, the design firm originally involved the project. My own part in the team, from the early days, as the lead partner on the project with Allies and Morrison was to act as the ‘architectural voice’ of the project. The discussion in this chapter will be specific to Doha, but it also relevant to the wider region where the rate of change, the level of ambition and the climate are all extreme.
18.1 Location map of Doha, Qatar, within the Gulf
18.2 General city plan of Doha showing the denser old centre next to the corniche
So what do I mean by rebirth or ‘renaissance’? I am referring to the re-awakening, in a new form, both of a lifestyle and of an architectural language. In the words of Her Highness’s brief, we should be ‘looking to the future whilst being rooted in the past’. The image of a tree has under-pinned our thoughts. The roots run deep, to a large extent unseen; meanwhile the new growth flourishes; both are connected, and so it is a continuum.
18.3 The tree: rooted in the past, flourishing into the future
So, looking at the past, were things better in the old days? In some respects, yes, and, in those ways, we should learn from and reflect them again now. Apart from the unarguable aim of achieving the highest levels of comfort and well-being for the people of Doha for the long-term future, we are also in search of a strengthened sense of belonging. In terms of the built environment, I would suggest that a sense of identity is a pre-requisite for ‘making the most’ of urban life, and it is reliant to a large degree on connecting to the past. In Doha this sense of identity seems to be largely dormant, and it is the aim of Msheireb Properties to help to reawaken it.
18.4 West Bay in Doha from the air
The identity of Doha is already, in some respects, very strong. If we look from above at the man-made road known as the Corniche, with the landfill area known as West Bay to the north of the city centre – the masterstroke of William Pereira’s master-plan in the mid-1970s – we can see how the city is continually ‘looking back at itself’ across the water in a memorable way. This is surely the single most identifiable feature of the city and it gives a strong sense of orientation, at least when one is down by the water. In every other sense, the Corniche – and the city centre as a whole – offers much room for improvement, both in terms of urban lifestyle and architectural language. Cars currently dominate, and buildings sit as objects in space, rather than forming edges to streets and spaces which at present lack urban definition. It is hard to walk about, even when the weather is good (for at least half the year), as there are not enough pavements, crossings, and, most importantly, there is almost no shade.
18.5 West Bay at street level
18.6 The Museum of Islamic Art by I.M. Pei, with the new city rising behind
The Corniche connects two key parts of the city: the old centre, which now contains the Msheireb project, and the new developments in West Bay. They talk to each other across the water and Msheireb definitely has something to teach West Bay. I am a firm believer in West Bay as a place with great potential. I think it is good for Doha, but only at the ‘macro’ scale, and as just a chapter of an as yet unfinished story. At the moment this is not a place for pedestrians. It is not a place where the street is alive. Indeed in summertime, it is truly uninhabitable unless you are in a car or an air-conditioned building. Nonetheless, it is a highly successful new address within the city, and it is part of the old town/new town dynamic which – with emerging landmarks such as I.M. Pei’s Islamic Museum – is setting Doha in a good direction for the future.
The commercial towers of West Bay, whatever one thinks of their individual designs, are spectacular from a distance, particularly at dusk – but that is not enough. They do not cohere: if they were a choir, their music would be a cacophony. As objects they do not make places for people, other than for those inside their glass-clad, air-conditioned forms. Most importantly they do not contribute to a sense of identity which grows out of, or fits into, Qatari tradition. In other words, they are not rooted.
To complement and contrast with this, the Msheireb project envisages a city of arcaded streets and carved-out urban spaces. It offers shade, pedestrian priority and human scale. For Qatari families, it offers an alternative to living in a box-like villa in the suburbs, surrounded by a wall where, to get anywhere, one has to get in the car. It also aims to offer a harmonious kind of architecture in which, whoever the architect is for a given block, the space between buildings is more important than the buildings themselves, and the common architectural language – in whatever accent it is spoken in – consistently connects this important piece of the city back to its roots. Although from a very different part of the Middle East, the old centre of Beirut is a relevant example of this kind of successful urbanism.
18.7 The floating structure of the Msheireb Enrichment Centre, by Allies and Morrison, with the backdrop of West Bay
18.8 Solidere in central Beirut, Lebanon
The story of Msheireb begins, as with so much of the history of the city, on 11th October 1939. ‘Petroleum Development Qatar. Have had slight show of oil in their test well near Zekrit. Drilling continues’ read the telegram sent by the British political agent in Bahrain at the time. If one looks at old photographs of Doha in 1952, one can see clearly the ‘old town’ of Doha – developed over centuries and based on fishing, pearl diving and trading. Slightly to the west, the ‘new town’ began to develop fast during the 1950s. The Al Koot Fort and the Eid Ground, which used to be right on the edge of the city, now lie between the older and the newer parts. Al Kahraba Street was laid out then but not yet built up. Legend has it that its soft curve arose from the haphazard rolling out of Doha’s first electrical cable (not quite pulled straight) by a British engineer.
The old photographs of Doha also gave essential clues as to how Msheireb could meet Her Highness’s brief. Given that our urban site was in the area that was being developed throughout the 1940s and 1950s, modernity was clearly then a driving force; however, there was still at that point a connection between the city of the past and that of the future. Every street held old memories, and, although many of the streets of the Msheireb site are somewhat tired and unloved now, their stories are there to be cherished – and new chapters are still to be told.
The Arup/AECOM masterplan for Msheireb is a tour-de-force of how to balance geometry with informality in response to the historic irregularities of the site and to the ‘organic’ urban tradition of the wider Gulf region (see Plate 28). It is also an exemplar of sustainable urban design at the macro-scale, both in the context of Doha – in terms of the lifestyle changes it will offer – and the degree to which it can serve as a catalyst for urban change in the coming decades. A determining factor in the masterplan has been the local climate, and this led to a number of objectives: how to maximise shade and optimise the use of wind to keep public spaces cool; how in particular to make the ‘shoulder months’ between summer and winter as comfortable as possible; and how to promote pedestrian movement and minimise reliance on the car. To this end, the strong prevailing wind from the north-west has informed a north-south grain for the block layout, within which the roof forms are used to catch the wind, cast shade and harvest solar energy.
The master-plan is also ambitious in terms of the provision of shared infrastructure and the use of basements. This makes possible a fine urban grain, a traffic-calmed environment and sustainable energy systems on a larger scale. More importantly, however, it is a master-plan based on places and connections, old and new, and of activities and events. It is this complex mix of uses and the framework of carved-out urban spaces which I believe are the key to the plan. These make a setting for, and a physical manifestation of, memory past and memory future – and thus they make Msheireb a firm part of the continuum of Doha’s history.
18.9 Model of the Msheireb master-plan showing its fine urban grain
Msheireb is not the first significant change in the old city centre in the 21st century. Immediately to the east lies the Souk Waqif, an old market which dates back well over a hundred years. In recent few years it has been reborn as a place to shop, eat, drink and promenade, with huge success. Its style and its scale are firmly rooted in the past, without any particular response to the future, and in that respect Msheireb offers something different. However, in terms of urban space and spirit, there is a direct connection, in particular where the southeast corner of Msheireb meets the souk and the two worlds are joined to create a continuum.
One of Allies and Morrison’s roles within the master-planning team has been to draft the architectural guidelines. These are encapsulated in what we call the ‘Seven Steps’; in other words, seven guiding principles for all development in Msheireb project. The first step is ‘Continuity’; the general principle that there must be a link between the past and the future. All design has timeless qualities and we are continually reinterpreting the past in new ways. Whether it be the elaboration of a shading screen with the use of patterning, or the proportioning of a solid wall with openings made up of substantial horizontals and verticals, in either case, the new can ‘grow out of’ the old – and thereby achieve a relevance and powerful resonance with its roots.
The second step is the ‘Balance between Individual and Collective’. If we look at an ordinary street wall around the Souk Waqif, we can see that is made up of many buildings, each touching its neighbours, and together forming the urban backdrop. The elements are all related but, just like a family, every member is an individual. The street image has a visual richness and an engaging informality which seems to balance unity and diversity. None of the buildings shout ‘look at me’, but together they sing a harmonious song. Part of this particular harmony in the old city, which I believe is also relevant to Msheireb, is the style-less robustness of the everyday architecture; it is something evolved over centuries both for cultural and technical reasons. Step two therefore urges designers, except in selected landmark sites, to emulate this ‘team spirit’ and promote the primacy of the street wall. In this way, not only will we achieve a coherent piece of city but, in my view, we will realise the particular beauty of a richly variegated but cohesive street frontage – something which would be impossible if we encouraged every building to make its own statement.
