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Along with the two tall minarets, the arched vents and window grilles are the standout features of the mosque’s large rectangular space. Much of the work – especially the beautifully carved timber of the iman’s minbar and the mashrabiyya screens – has been done by hand. -
Along with the two tall minarets, the arched vents and window grilles are the standout features of the mosque’s large rectangular space. Much of the work – especially the beautifully carved timber of the iman’s minbar and the mashrabiyya screens – has been done by hand. -
Along with the two tall minarets, the arched vents and window grilles are the standout features of the mosque’s large rectangular space. Much of the work – especially the beautifully carved timber of the iman’s minbar and the mashrabiyya screens – has been done by hand. -
Along with the two tall minarets, the arched vents and window grilles are the standout features of the mosque’s large rectangular space. Much of the work – especially the beautifully carved timber of the iman’s minbar and the mashrabiyya screens – has been done by hand. -
Along with the two tall minarets, the arched vents and window grilles are the standout features of the mosque’s large rectangular space. Much of the work – especially the beautifully carved timber of the iman’s minbar and the mashrabiyya screens – has been done by hand.
Kate Otten, the founding architect of Kate Otten Architects, talks about the Houghton Jumu’ah Mosque by Muhammad Mayet Architects + Urban Designers and Abdel-Wahed El-Wakil.
WORDS Kate Otten PHOTOS SUPPLIED
My studies of Architecture started at the then-University of Natal, Durban in 1982. While there may have been a few people of colour in my class, and several women, the history and theory of architecture were clearly taught from a white, male, Western standpoint and recording. I wanted to learn about African architecture and culture; about sun-baked mud-brick structures and carefully handcrafted details.
Physical library searches – how we did things before the internet! – offered little information on African architecture in general, but they did bring me to beautifully illustrated and well-documented books on Islamic architecture. And so began my research into this rich alternative offering. Egyptian architect Hassan Fathy soon became my idol.
I pored over whatever drawings, photographs and writings of his I could find, marvelling at the subtle twist and careful resolution of geometries that facing the qibla (the direction of the Kaaba at the Sacred Mosque in Mecca) creates; loving how, by building flat parabolic arches, he built vaults and domes with no shuttering, and how the colour of the earth bricks melted into the desert, defined only by a play of light and shadow.
To my delight, for my practical year out of university in 1985, I was offered a position at the office of Muhammad Mayet Architects. I fell in love with architecture. Among the many wonderful experiences I had during this time, three stand out: the incredible full-colour tomes on the architecture of Morocco that Mayet had in his office; my involvement with the making of mud-brick mosques in Malawi; and my introduction to the work of another Egyptian architect, Abdel-Wahed El-Wakil.
El-Wakil, it seemed, had had the same problem as I did – frustration at being taught only about Western architecture until he learnt about Hassan Fathy. So Fathy mentored El-Wakil who mentored Mayet who mentored Otten… Imagine my joy when, some years later, I finally saw Fathy’s village of New Gourna, in the flesh, while travelling in Egypt.
From the highway, I have watched the Jumu’ah Mosque slowly emerge, only to stop for a period before being completed in 2013. Recently, I had the pleasure of visiting the Houghton mosque with Mayet. We arrived at 9am on a Wednesday, the timing and my headscarf specific so that I could gain access to an empty main (male) prayer space. The space is beautiful, with a crescendo of what I would describe as “Hassan Fathy vaults” (or catenary vaults that follow an inverted catenary or parabolic curve), which increase in size towards a dome above where the imam stands, and where you find the mihrab or niche that shows the direction of prayer.
Not Many People Know That…
The entire building, including the vaults, is made of structural brickwork, then plastered and painted white. The structure is also passively ventilated – meaning that there is no mechanical air conditioning. Cool air is drawn into a void below the building, and then drawn into the building itself through the large, hollow brick columns. From there, it gently trickles through patterned vents into the prayer hall.
Soft natural light filters from high-level arched windows. Like so many other details within the mosque complex, the vents and window grilles are carefully crafted, with much of the work – especially the timber carving – made by hand. El-Wakil speaks of craft as a way of “supporting your identity”. This is evident again in the intricately patterned and carved timber minbar (pulpit) where the imam stands to deliver the sermon. In keeping with Islamic tradition, the women’s section is upstairs, separate but also part of the main prayer space, screened by equally beautifully carved timber mashrabiyya screens. The common features of a mosque are here: the courtyard, the main prayer space, the minaret or tower, the water feature symbolic of the four rivers of Paradise (sadly now filled with plants due to maintenance constraints).
Mayet explains that Islamic architecture is not about style, but about tradition and a collective identity. As an architect, you learn the tradition and the way of making architecture, of placing volume in space. It is always the same, but varies according to context, climate, available materials and available skills. Architecture changes with the environment, not with the time. Perhaps this explains why the Houghton Jumu’ah Mosque is, for me, at once familiar and yet completely new and exciting; I recognise the tradition of mosque design, but here, it lives within a landscape not usually occupied by Islamic architecture.
I Love How…
The mosque sits in Johannesburg’s manufactured wooded landscape, the purity of its white undulating form with tall minarets nestled in the green foliage of the suburbs. I love too how the large white form catches your eye as you speed by on the highway, the minarets marking the place from afar. It has a presence in the landscape, but does not intimidate the user. Fathy speaks of beauty as a human right, which he believes comes automatically if you, as an architect, take care of the “human reference, spirituality and harmonics”. Being in this space assures you that these factors have been well taken care of.
Why The Building Matters
The Muslim community in the area use the mosque every day – but it also matters for how it occupies its place in a new South Africa. It could not have been here generations before as Houghton was, thanks to apartheid and the Group Areas Act, a whites-only suburb. Unfortunately, a vestige of this past still remains – part of the consent agreement allowing the mosque to be built in Houghton was that the call to prayer would not be sounded across the area. How sad, I think, not to hear the haunting sound of the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer – a sound that conjures such a rich aural sense of community. I am told, however, that thanks to the internet, you can now receive the call directly to your house.
The State of Play Today
Is that of a well-used, busy mosque – especially during the holy month of Ramadan. | kateottenarchitects.com
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