a collection of notes on areas of personal interest
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Before I continue with notes relating to the traditional architecture in Qatar I should mention the class of building that came between traditional architecture and modern architecture – the latter being taken as those constructed after the nineteen seventies. This architecture was funded with the beginnings of wealth coming into the country and not related to the traditional source of wealth, mainly pearling. It developed showing respect to traditional architecture, using the skills brought into the country from the Indian sub-continent, northern Islamic countries and Persia.
This first building, shown above and to the right, seems important to me as it illustrates a structure which probably is a traditional building that has been altered and upgraded, but kept its essential character. By this I mean that there is an obviously large majlis on the right of the porch or riwaq looking out onto the public space outside. It illustrates an urban architecture and evidently contains a tall space or spaces inside with built-in ventilation grilles at a high level to evacuate heat. Its windows are set low and are of a generous scale as is the main door with its wicket gate. The ventilation slot immediately above the windows illustrates a more sophisticated development of traditional windows, though notice that one of the windows has been blocked up in order to install a single, wall-mounted air-conditioning unit.
Note also that the decoration of the riwaq is evidence of the introduction of styling apparently from the Indian sub-continent. However, the detail at the junction of the riwaq column and beam has a very Qatari character.
There is a flat roof which appears still to be constructed of traditional materials as the mirzam remain to channel water off the roof as quickly as possible in order to prevent water penetration through the roof construction.
I know no more about the building but it is obviously not being lived in by a Qatari family as, if it were, the outside would be spotless and there would be no rubbish piled up. It is likely that it is being either lived in by expatriates, perhaps employed by the original owner, or is being used as a store as the boxes outside suggest.
The character of buildings was created by the locals responding to the specific problems posed by the climate, need for security and the social and religious requirements of family life. But it is a truism that traditional buildings did their job better than new ones. Traditional buildings were constructed from the materials which were close at hand and, in the main, which were inexpensive. The materials commonly used in Qatar were desert stones – hasa; limestone mortar – juss; limewash – nuwra; earth – turaab which is either comprised of rawdha – a cultivatable soil, or sand – raml and, in mud form is known as teen; and date palm fronds – sa’af. Everything else was imported and had to be used carefully if cost was to be kept down. Timber – khashab, particularly the heavy teak doors – abwab – necessary for security were used and re-used, as were ceiling joists – shandal – and window shutters – dhafaqat or safaqa.
Sadly many of the old rural buildings have fallen into disrepair and can be seen all over Qatar, particularly in the north of the country. Having said that many of them are now being reconstructed to provide urban dwellers with weekend retreats. Structures such as this provide a good starting point from which to create a complex of rooms usually with a swimming pool filled from a well, shading and planting. In these cases it is not unusual for a watchman to live there who will also have the job of rudimentary farming.
This building, at Wakra, illustrates the trabeated construction that was the standard method by which buildings in the peninsula were built. Although there is evidence in the peninsula of buildings with pitched roofs, they were confined to a simple single-cell type of unit because pitched roofing a large number of rooms was difficult for a number of reasons; it is far easier to join rooms with a flat roof. In trabeated construction there are columns and there are beams, the columns are constructed of hasa or faroush and juss, the beams from a number of shandal bound with kumbar to provide a degree of strengthening. From this structure a floor or roof would be supported from a number of shandal spanning between the beams on top of which would be a layer of split canes supporting a mat made from woven palms, itself supporting at least two layers of compacted earth. There is more about this construction on this page.
The early towns were characterised by the materials and scale of the residential elements which comprised the majority of the structures, as well as by the street system which is dealt with elsewhere. The only other buildings within towns were those associated with the suq, and those of the mosques – musajid – which were similarly constructed to houses, but different in form, eventually incorporating in Qatar, small domes – qubba. Following Wahabi tradition, mosques were simple, rectangular buildings though, in the Gulf, they normally had small hemispherical topped towers – burj – associated with them, the tower either on a corner of the roof of the mosque, or in a corner of the entrance yard, and usually with a small staircase.
Here, at al Jumail – between Medinat al-Shamal and al Khuwayr in the north of the peninsula – there is a ruined masjid. Even in its present state of repair it can be seen to typify the architecture of this type of building. Its simple construction is very much a characteristic of wahabi architecture as well as being a reflection of the simple life led by those who lived in this area of the peninsula.
This photo of the reverse side of the qibla wall of a masjid was also taken at al Jubail in the north of the peninsula. Again, you can see from the mihrab the clean and simple style of architecture which characterised wahabi masaajid. Although there is some decoration to the top of the mihrab in the form of a small dome it is not ostentatious and is in keeping with the simplicity of the construction. It is also interesting to note the large number of mirzam that have been incorporated into the roof construction in order to get rain water off the roof as quickly as possible in order to prevent damage to it from water penetration. Note, too, how this element of function design requirement introduces visual relief to this wall and a degree of articulation to the roof line, both of them welcome under harsh lighting conditions.
However, the first dwellings were relatively simple and served the purpose of providing not only shelter and security but also of establishing a right to the use of the land which would be visible all year round. In the main the first houses within the interior of Qatar were comparatively small and made from mud bricks with, perhaps, an admixture of straw – libbin, and a pitched roof covered with palm branches, the width of the single room being determined by the span of the palms, approximately two metres. Little remains of them now although, until the beginning of the nineteen eighties, it was possible to see the remains of such houses at a number of settlements, particularly at Na’ijah, a little way south of Doha. More permanent houses were soon constructed from desert stones and mud or juss mortar with palm branches for the pitched roofs. The construction of these houses was termed arrish. The patterns left by some of these developments can still be seen in the desert and some work has been carried out to determine the extent and character of the constructions.
With time these loose developments became more established, reflecting both the proprietorial rights to the area as well as the continuing need to provide a more substantial body of permanent shelters in which the society could develop comfortably throughout the whole of the year – the tents being essentially used only part of the year when the badu traditionally wintered their flocks in the peninsula.
At the head of the next section there is a photograph that includes the head of a typical desert bi’r. One particularly important consideration, in fact the reason for a settlement being located where it was, would be the availability of a suitable water source for the family and their animals. The bi’r was a hand dug well, its sides reinforced with stones, and would have a channel leading from it into which water could be poured from the well, and from which their animals would drink.
The two photographs here are of two other wells in the heartland of the north of the peninsula. The upper photograph shows the circular well to the right, a short linking channel and a squared trough from which animals would have drunk. It can be seen that the original construction of the bi’r was of desert hasa held in a juss mortar, the top of the bi’r being given a later protection of cement mortar, a more durable material than juss. Note how both it and the two others above and below were all located outside the settlement enclosures.
The second bi’r appears to have been a more modern construction in that it is accurately squared off and finished with cement mortar, though still of desert hasa construction. The linking channel and drinking trough are still present though the relatively small size of the latter implies that few animals will be able to drink at it at the same time. Curiously there appears also to be a steel pipe leading from the bi’r, suggesting the need for an overflow, although I don’t know why that would have been necessary.
These houses initially contained a single internal space and had a single opening which formed the entrance door and was the source of ventilation and light in the centre of one of the long walls of the building. Here, in a desert settlement are the ruins of a number of small buildings, one of them designed for a pitched roof which was covered with palm fronds – arrish. These structures have all now gone.
The majority of activities of the family would have continued outside the house as was the custom with activities in tented encampments, though it is probable that the first use of such buildings would have been by a single individual rather than a whole family, as the right to use the land was established. The houses were loosely grouped some distance away from each other, their main characteristics, which they shared with tents, being to turn their backs to the prevailing north north-north-west wind – the shamal – and to have a bi’r in the immediate vicinity.
This photo was taken at Al Bida where a number of traditional buildings have been constructed. You can see from the photo that the structure is not accurate in at least two respects. Firstly, the barasti covering has, below it, some form of modern material to provide weather-proofing. Secondly, the door is a relatively modern one and appears out of character. I’m also dubious about the window. In old buildings of this sort that I have seen the windows are much smaller openings, usually higher up the wall.
With time the single room became divided into two or more spaces, usually by the incorporation of a low dividing wall at right angles to the long wall. This permitted some privacy as well as maintaining optimal air circulation. A simple window would have been added if the size of the structure permitted it, giving light to the interior, and protected by vertical wrought iron bars on the outside and wooden shutters on the inside. This, together with the heavy door to the house, afforded some protection to the occupants, but not a great deal. The floor level would be raised from that of the surrounding land to prevent flooding of the interior and a verandah was commonly formed to provide a raised living area for the family – an extension to the internal spaces – and a low seat.
While the single rooms were developed over time to become more complex buildings, as illustrated below, some remained as free-standing rooms within more complex developments as is shown in this grouping at al-Arish in the north of the peninsula. Note that while the walls of the building on the right that had a sloped roof is constructed from hajaraat and juss in the traditional construction style, that on the left was built with concrete blocks, suggesting it was built around thirty of forty years ago, and that it was found easier to construct with a pitched roof than with the more common flat roof.
Hadid, wrought iron, and khashab, wood were extremely valuable to the family as the rest of the structure would be constructed from materials found on or around the site. These items would have had a life extending beyond the life of the basic enclosed structure. This is particularly true of the roof joists, commonly of mangrove poles and which were not cut to length unless there was a degree of ostentation, when they would be trimmed to project the same amount.
The roof was flat and constructed of layers of tamped earth on rush matting held on timber joists. The roof had sufficient falls on it to enable water to be shed quickly. Initially the water was led to the centre of the long side and a vertical channel down the face of the building was used to lead the water quickly away from the house. With time and wealth a timber water spout – mirzam – was incorporated into the roof of the house with the same effect, though falling away from the wall.
Shade was given to the front of the house by the relatively simple expedient of covering the mangrove poles which commonly projected from the front of the building. The covering would have been initially a woven mat or, as development progressed, juss would have been laid on top of the mat to form a relatively waterproof finish. Both the roof and the verandah covering were laid to move water off the building rapidly and thus reduce the possibility of water ingress. Of course such roofs need constant maintenance but the materials were readily available and it was a relatively simple job to effect. In the less well finished buildings – in effect, in most buildings in the desert – the mangrove poles projected for different lengths, there being a reluctance to trim such a valuable commodity just for aesthetic reasons.
This photograph illustrates a baraha in front of a majlis. I don’t know if the majlis was ever enclosed within a compound but I have the feeling that this was always an external majlis with its associated baraha. A notable feature of this baraha is that it sits right in front of two of the shubabik of the majlis which suggests to me that the owner might have wanted to be able to use the outside as overflow.
With the passing of time, this shading device was extended and developed into a more formal architectural treatment by the construction of a colonnade of columns – awamid. The columns are relatively wide as they were constructed with desert stones and juss as were the walls of the house. This simple, trabeated form had the additional value of providing more shade to the raised verandah by virtue of the shade from the heavy columns, and created a setting for the family to carry out much of their life in relative comfort.
It should be borne in mind that many of the activities of the household were carried out in the open or shade rather than inside the house by preference as enclosure can be psychologically uncomfortable – as well as there being more space outside. It is also notable, and something that seems often to have been forgotten in modern designs, that the verandahs were, and need to be, of a usable width.
Here is a larger building than that above, this time at Sumaismah, south of al Khor. It would have been constructed later than the previous example as can be seen by the use of blockwork and of squared timbers for the lintols. Conceptually it is exactly the same as the smaller building above. Note how there is some deterioration at the foot of the columns due to a combination of rain and mechanical damage.
This appears to be the same building as that in the photograph immediately above, but it illustrates better how this simple work of traditional architecture has been created. The verandah has been taken round at least three sides of the basic room, creating protective shade during the hot summer months as well as shelter from the rain during winter. It is probable that the room is not very old as there appear to be both mangrove poles and sawn timbers used in the roof construction, and the columns are built from concrete blocks. However, it is a direct descendant of the simple traditional room, the only change being the use of slightly more easy to use building materials. The roof appears to be constructed traditionally, though the maraazim have disappeared as witnessed by the two holes on the right edge of the roof, above the columns. Note that the maraazim are located at the side and not at the front. I would have anticipated that they would be at the back where there is the possibility of a shorter run-off for the rainwater.
Here is a photograph of the lower part of a single room development at al-Ruwaidha in the north of the peninsula. It is interesting for the deterioration shown in the base of the column. The main room is constructed of desert stones, hasa, their constructional matrix being juss. The covering of the wall is also likely to be that but has deteriorated at its weakest point, the un-bonded corners, though there is some erosion of the lower part of the wall, probably from rain and driven sand. The columns, however, have been constructed of pre-cast concrete blocks supporting orthogonal beams to provide shelter to the shurfa or verandah. These timbers, being of machined timber rather than the traditional shandal, mangrove poles, indicate that at least the shurfa is relatively new, perhaps around forty years old. Concrete blocks were notoriously badly constructed with regard to mix, salinity of water and curing. It is not surprising that they, together with the layer of rendering have deteriorated in this typical manner, the cause being wind blown sand and dust together with rain over a period of time. Note how the horizontal cement mortar of the columns has deteriorated less than the concrete blocks. This is due to the concrete block mix – aggregate, cement and sand – being poorly mixed and more easily mechanically eroded than mortar which is just sand and cement.
Continuing development of the house established three essential features. Firstly, a protective wall – suwr – was added, commonly continuing the north and west walls of the single building in the north-west of the new compound, and forming the basis for safe family life within a courtyard – sahan. This location was the most suitable as it gave optimum protection to the compound from the prevailing shamal as well as the afternoon sun in summer.
The protective wall not only provided physical security, a degree of privacy as well as protection from the shamal, but it could also contain the family’s animals at night if necessary. In addition, the wall usually contained the families’ well – bi’r, where this existed on their land. While the general purpose of the compound’s boundary wall is to protect those living inside it, there is also a need to be aware of what is happening around it. Normally this would be effected by those outside the wall, but in at least one compound it is interesting to note that provision has been made in the surrounding wall through which to observe what might be happening outside. It is not known why this particular opening was incorporated into the wall, but it is assumed that it was located in such a way as not to compromise privacy within the compound.
The second feature was the establishing of a fixed location immediately outside the south wall for a baraha or hiyala – an open majlis area. This area was protected by the boundary wall from the shamal but was exposed to the sun throughout the day.
An alternative location would have been to the east of the plot where the boundary wall would have protected it in the afternoons against the setting sun. Bear in mind, however, that the area for the majlis was extremely flexible and it is just as likely that a tent might have been pitched here to provide more comfort.
Bear in mind that, in summer, the heat build-up in the south- or west-facing walls would have been considerable, and anybody sitting on the baraha would have suffered from the low wave heat radiation given out by the wall, an effect which would have quickly made them feel sick. Hence the probability that the baraha would not have been used in the summer months, and that it is more likely – and my experience – that carpets are put down some way from the wall to be used as the majlis.
With time the baraha was developed into a majlis within the compound, normally occupying the south-east corner with its long axis oriented east-west, as were all major rooms initially.
A particular feature of the baraha was the development of raised seating – dikka (pronounced as ‘ditcher’ in the Gulf) – alongside it. Although Gulf Arabs normally sit on the ground supported on hard cushions – misnad – the seating they developed is relatively high, up to 800mm from the ground. Where wood was at a premium the dikka was constructed as a part of the wall with a small quadrant circular stop at each end providing an elbow rest. Where timber was available it became possible to construct movable seats which were covered in skins, carpets or kilims.
Here, in the desert in the north of the peninsula, lie the ruins of a small structure, complete with the remains of its containing wall. It illustrates perfectly the first stage of a rural development, consisting as it does of a simple building comprised of a couple of room together with a protective wall which would have provided a degree of privacy, the ability to contain animals when necessary, and a small amount of security. There appears not to have been a verandah which suggests that it was a simple building which had not developed this feature, one which would have been of significant benefit and comfort to people living there.
Here, however, there is an obvious veranda developed on the structure to the right of this compound which is a more developed housing plot than that above. In this case, the veranda was established on the building in the near right corner, more buildings being added later moving along the right hand boundary wall. There is also evidence of a structure on the far left back boundary wall and, perhaps, on the left. There is a possibility that this may have been a majlis, but I am not sure of this as there appear to be no openings to the outside on the far wall. However, it is interesting to see that there is also a well on the left surrounded with a small square wall and which would have supplied the inhabitants of the compound with their daily water needs.
With continuing settlement in any specific location and the concomitant growth of the family, further development was necessary to accommodate them and would have seen the provision of covered space over more of the interior of the compound. Inevitably this initiated the development of rooms, particularly along the inside of the protective north and west walls, rooms which – despite the excellent characteristics of mud and stone walls to delay heat gain – were only occupied when the need for this accommodation was absolutely necessary. With the privacy provided by the surrounding wall this was obviously not a problem to the family or families living in the open areas within the compound.
In this way the extended family was able to develop within the safety of the compound, and space could be made available for the activities, shelter and storage required for the life of a semi-nomad family. Development could take place as and when needed and did not have to be anything but functional. Incidentally, this photograph – taken from the roof of an adjacent building – illustrates the way in which water was led from the roof to mirzam, here out of sight.
The next important development was the construction of a fuller verandah to all the rooms of the compound – particularly those associated with the family living quarters – thus enabling the family to use the outdoor spaces by creating a greater degree of protection both from the strong summer sun as well as from the winter rains. These verandahs extended the covered space of the house considerably but, more importantly, gave protection while providing the feeling of open space. This latter factor was important to those whose lives were habitually and traditionally spent out of doors and created the conditions for a greater degree of comfort than was previously experienced in their more mobile existence.
Thus the verandah was a very important element of the household and its operation. A slightly raised area was necessary in order to keep the floor dry of any flooding caused by the winter rains, one of the chief characteristics of Gulf houses was that the verandah was the main area used by the family; the heart of the home, used in both summer and winter, day and night when the weather was favourable. There was access on one side to the closed shelter and protection of the constructed rooms and, on the other, to the open feeling and space of the courtyard. The rooms could be looked upon as a refuge, a place of safety both in a socio-psychological as well as an environmental sense.
Finally, as illustrated in the two diagrams to the right, the notional development of the courtyard would have seen the development of a majlis within the courtyard, but accessible from the outside. The inside wall would not have openings within it and there would have been screening to preserve the privacy of the household if there was a shared entrance. The majlis was the public arena for the men of the household, both their living room and their face to the world. Sometimes this was developed as a separate structure standing apart from the house wall, but this would have depended on the availability of land, ownership and agreement from the wider family or social group.
Cross ventilation to the family rooms of the development was created by having small openings in the north and west sides – openings which could be readily blocked if driven rain or the shamal warranted it. Simple openings were covered with timber but later versions incorporated naqsh panels with openings carved into them.
This gradual development of enclosed spaces for a growing household produces the open character of compound illustrated in this photograph. It is relatively spacious, there is room for development and there is a clear relationship between the buildings, compound and the environment within which it has developed. But before moving on to the way in which the rooms in traditional houses were used, it might be useful to illustrate the manner in which the above stages of site evolution has seen sites develop within an urban environment. Compare and contrast the feeling within this compound with the more urban development illustrated below, and also note that these buildings in their rural setting are simpler and not as tall as those in urban Doha.
The three sites illustrated in this photograph of an urban corner in Doha bear striking similarities to each other, but are much more restricted, as you would expect, within this urban environment. It is not easy to tell, but I believe they are being lived in by Qatari families rather than having been passed on to expatriate workers as is common practice – this despite the evidence of the concrete mixer parked outside.
Looking solely at the nearest site you can see the majlis in the bottom right corner with its own entrance into a small courtyard which has washing facilities and a small room which I believe will be the kitchen for the preparation of qahwa and shy for those using the majlis. Guests being entertained in the majlis will be unable to see into the courtyard around which the family rooms have been established. There is a similar building on the left of the photograph but I believe that is not the majlis but more likely an addition to the family side of the house. Alternatively, it might be, or become, a retail unit or units.
The family rooms are developed off a raised verandah which provides a degree of environmental control though, at the time the photograph was taken – the mid-eighties – wall mounted air-conditioning units were common. The courtyard is obviously the focus of the family’s life. Chairs are arranged on the verandah, there is a swing, clothes are hanging up to dry and there is a planting arrangement in the centre that appears to be decorative rather than functional. In adjacent courtyards acaccia trees have developed, most probably accidentally.
From their style I would guess the sites were developed in the mid nineteen seventies when this type of sub-division was typical. They are interesting in that they carried forward traditional architectural forms into the new urban areas. In this they were very similar to the traditional forms then being demolished, their main benefit being that they were more generous in plot size than the older sites they replaced.
It is notable that the roof constructions are likely to be traditional as is evidenced by the provision of so many maraazim, the traditional method of shedding rainwater rapidly.
Rooms within a house had no particular designation other than the hamaam, or washroom and the majlis. The hamaam was divided from its adjoining space by a qatiya – a low wall up to head height giving some degree of privacy. Sometimes, as in this example, there is naqsh decoration to the top of the wall. The important point to note is that the qatiya has to be clear of the ceiling as it is imperative in this kind of space that air can circulate.
Although I have mentioned above the chief specialised rooms in traditional Qatari houses, there was also another room occasionally to be found in houses where owners grew or imported dates. The mudabissa was a room set aside for the production of dibis, a syrup used to sweeten prepared food. The room typically had no windows. The floor had a series of channels laid to falls created by the construction of hasa and juss ridges about 500mm apart on centre, and 200mm high. These supported a grid or mesh of canes or similar material on which were placed dates with weights on them. The pressure applied released the dibis into the channels for collection at the lowest point in the system.
For this reason there was also a need for air to circulate between rooms in larger houses. This example, again taken in the wind tower house in the centre of Doha, shows how a naqsh panel has been incorporated as a spandrel panel above a doorway. In this way a necessary functional use has been given an attractive, decorative resolution, though I don’t know how effective it would have been compared with the effectiveness of the door below.
All the rooms could be used for any purpose by anybody within the family, the only restriction being privacy between male and female members of the family, and privacy of the areas containing the families’ normal activities. Cooking was usually carried out within the courtyard or under shade on the liwan. Food was served on dishes or bowls placed on a sufra, or circular woven mat within a room of the house, or on the verandah, depending on the weather and time of day.
Rooms had no specific function apart from the majlis and hamaam and were used by day and night and in the different seasons for a variety of purposes. In some houses members of the family managed to take over a specific room for themselves which was, I suspect, a natural consequence of there being more consumer items around which needed space for storage and use. This photograph shows the interior of a young man’s room in Wakra, taken before it was knocked down for development.
You can see that there’s a problem with storage. Strings have been attached to awatad in the walls from which have been hung clothes, bags and, in the top left corner, a gun. The light source, again just out of shot, was a sixty watt bare light bulb, but bear in mind that other rooms in the house didn’t have electricity and were lit by traditional kerosene lamps.
In this photo of an old internal space the awtad in the walls seem to be made out of old timbers rather than carved or turned wood as is usually the case. They are noticeably thicker than the traditional, turned awtad. This would imply that there wasn’t the time or funds or timber around to make the awtad in a more attractive form, though the naqsh is of a good quality – apparently, in situ – the two panels being symmetrical as was the custom when located at the end of a room and. It also suggests the high value of timber at the time of construction. It is also worth noting that the awtad are designed to project at different depths from the wall to ensure that each hanging cloak hangs free.
This photograph illustrates a single decorated watad given to me from the ruins of a house in al Wakra a long time ago. Generally awtad were between 200mm and 300mm long, of which about 150mm projected from the finished face of the wall. The awtad were turned on a simple lathe and then decorated with primary colours, in this case black and red.
A further development was needed to create the typical spatial form of the traditional houses of this century, and this was the increase in roof span brought about by the introduction of the mangrove poles as ceiling supports. Mangrove was common in the north of the Gulf as well as in the Oman with the influence of East Africa and the Indian sub-continent. Whether or not there was an intermediate stage is not clear but, within Saudi Arabia where mangrove was not available, there is evidence of the use of the trunks of palm trees as beams. These would have been expensive to use and would have implied development of palm trees over a long period of time for there to be a ready supply of their trunks for building. The palm also enables a larger span than the three metres or so seen in buildings spanned by mangrove poles, and I am not aware of any within the peninsula. However, the use of valuable date palms would have been rare. Certainly the strong trade routes to the Indian sub-continent and East Africa made mangrove poles a sensible, if expensive, trade item.
When discussing the photograph above I mentioned the problem with storage in the old houses. While some items such as outer clothes would be hung from awtad, a more secure development saw the introduction of small chests in which more precious items might be stored. Clothes would be folded and stored in the main compartment with more precious items in the drawers. Some of these chests incorporated secret compartments. This photograph illustrates a beautiful example of such chests. Made usually from teak, they were heavily studded and decorated with brass sheets and handles complete with a substantial brass hasp that could be secured with a padlock. Commonly called ‘Kuwaiti chests’ they probably originated in the Indian sub-continent and were used both at sea and on land. Note the distinctive legs which are not usually attached to the chest.
It is worth mentioning that there was at least one development which implied there were date plantations in the area, and that was the fortified development at al-Zubara in the north of the peninsula. Within this development there is a mudabissa – date storage room which is identifiable from the the channels in its floor designed to take the syrup, dibis, from the dates stored above them. It is possible that the dates brought to al-Zubara were from Bahrein as it is only a few kilometres from al-Zubara, and Bahrein had both considerable areas of cultivated date palms as well as using mudabissa as a regular feature of domestic development. There is also a long history of Bahreini interests on the Qatar peninsula.
The rooms in traditional buildings in Qatar were generally multi-use with, as might be expected, provision for cooking and lavatory facilities. Cooking was originally carried out in the open or under a verandah, though provision was soon made for a serparate room in which a hearth and storage could be located. With time and house expansion facilities were made available for more storage and accommodation for animals.
Toilet accommodation was more problematic as, for health reasons, it was necessary to move waste away from living quarters and avoid smells as well as ensuring that waste products did not pollute water sources. The general way of effecting this was to provide lavatories which were able to carry the waste immediately outside the building. In this regard they were very similar to devices found on buildings elsewhere in the world and dating back hundreds of years ago. Generally wash rooms are located as part of a main room, but separated by a qatiya as illustrated above. Where more privacy is required the structure was moved away from other functions of the house. These first two photographs are of a structure, a hamaam – similar in principle to a boat’s zuli – and typical of their design. The room is located on the first floor of a residential building and, I would guess by its construction that it was built fifty or sixty years ago as the cantilevered, squared timbers and planks on which it rests would have been very expensive earlier, and the structure is made with concrete blocks rather than hasa taken either from the desert of sea. There is no fall pipe from this structure which suggests that it might not have been there in the first place, or that it was, and has been removed as the building is in disuse.
Compare the above with these two photographs. The first was taken, I believe, in Rayyan where there are waste pipes, probably connected to a septic tank as it was some time before mains drainage was established and, when it was, this was confined to new building areas. The structure is roofed and ventilation holes have been provided both sides. It is probable that the structure is open on the roof side without an enclosing door. The second example I took in the nineteen seventies, though I don’t recall where. It appears to be a traditional construction, resting on mangrove poles and has a fall pipe to move the waste away.
I have added this photograph here as it is of the same building and shows the wall treatment at ground floor level. Through the arched openings in the wall a glimpse of the courtyard can be seen with arches containing timber framed doors or windows. It is possible that the windows in the front wall originally lit and ventilated a majlis, though I can’t be certain of it. What is interesting to me is that the wall is of massed construction rather than being columnar with infill, appears to be relatively thin, and has a simple detailing around the arched openings, which are irregular in height and width. It is rendered with a juss mortar, hand finished rather than with a mechanical tool. In respect of its detailing, despite the openings, it somehow seems to have something in common with fortified buildings.
Fortified buildings in Qatar appear to fall into two general groupings:
The first type is characterised by the forts at al-Zubara, Doha and Wakra of which the latter has the most developed corner towers. The Wakra fort was large compared with the others and I would not like to put a date on its construction. Even though Wakra was an important centre for urban development, its size – as can be seen from the length of this wall – and location well away from the housing on the coast suggests a relatively late date for building.
This detail of the fort at Wakra exhibits a feature that I have not seen elsewhere, a form of projecting machicolation that seems to have a relatively limited function. There are two levels of fet’ayyin or ’ayyin from which to look out of or shoot, but although the inside openings are relatively wide, they constrict use and are favoured to support shooting straight ahead. They have only a limited scope to permit enfilade fire, protecting the face of the building. However the projecting machicolation feature does allow the defenders to deal with anybody who gets below them. This is one of the key points to attack buildings constructed of desert stones and so is usually thickened as can be seen at al-Zubara in the photograph below. In this case the walls are taken straight down to the bed rock and reliance placed on the defenders having direct sight of anybody attempting to undermine the wall. Note also the relatively high shurfa which seem to be a feature of fortified buildings, lower versions being more typical of ordinary buildings.
Here, in a photograph taken in Wakra in April 1979, is a novel development of the shurfa design seen above. There are many differences from traditional details, but the design retains the character of traditional architecture in the peninsula. The two string courses immediately below the shurfa are unusual as the shurfa is generally a continuation of the vertical wall plane on a fortified building from which this detail might be thought to be derived. However, the use of a similar, but smaller string finish was found in ordinary buildings in Wakra. Colouring the panels has emphasised the design and this has been reinforced by the incorporation of both a circular globe and a vertical strip light at each corner creating a more formal completion to the roofline.
The second type of structure – fortified housing – can be found at Umm Salal Muhammad and Doha. Umm Salal Muhammad is, however, a special case as there is both fortified housing as well as two watch towers. I believe the latter, erected outside the town, were constructed as watch towers by the Turks and, for whatever reason, didn’t have the need to house a large military presence. As a consequence they don’t have the large footprints of the al-Zubara and Doha forts which are essentially protected courtyard developments.
These were not the only type of watch towers that were constructed around the country. A number of smaller towers are located at various points around the peninsula, usually close to the coastline and on rocky outcrops from which they have a better view. This watch tower has been reconstructed north of the Rayyan Road in the area that would have been outside the settlement at al-Bida. There are various reasons given for their construction but the most obvious is likely to be the need to look out for marauding pirates, a characteristic threat in the region for centuries. It is also said that they were points from which the pearling fleets could be monitored either on banks close to shore or on their return from the banks. Whichever is the case, they can be seen to be small, having little capacity for taking in people to shelter, and so would not have formed a refuge for a significant number of people in time of attack.
The courtyard type of development was constructed in a more secure manner with particular attention being paid to the weaker points of the structure. This typically created tall circular towers at the corners of the structure to give improved security. It might be thought that the corner of the fort that doesn’t have a projecting tower on it – that on the right of this photograph – is in more danger, but its two adjoining corner towers provide enfilading fire should attackers attempt to breach it.
The reason for the rounded corners is that the desert stones with which walls were constructed are relatively small and irregular, making them difficult to bond together, particularly at the corners. There was no attempt to trim the stones to regular sizes, squaring them up. Because of this corners of small buildings were reinforced internally with mangrove poles across the angle and, where the walls were defensive, the solution was to thicken and round the corner, giving no easy point to attack.
The above photograph of the fort at al-Zubara in the north-west of the country illustrates the point well. Incidentally, and for the record, this is a photograph of it I took in the mid nineteen-seventies when it had a security function. Although there is a square-sided structure comprising a part of the structure, the main towers are rounded and battered and of considerable depth to provide strength. An additional feature of the towers is their being reinforced at their junction with the ground, a feature both helping to resist a possible mechanical attack as well as dealing with weakening by water ingress. It is also worth noting the extent to which the towers project from the main walls of the structure. Internally this allows a small entrance to the towers from the first floor parapet, while giving a greater periphery from which to observe and defend the building.
Internally, the main accommodation is provided as peripheral structures which form the floor of the parapet from which watch could be kept and the fortress defended. The ’ayyin can be seen clearly and look relatively sophisticated in their three-row arrangement. It should be noted that they appear to be organised at heights suited to men kneeling or standing, and that there is a continuous ledge which I assume has a purpose either for steadying the kneeling man’s rifle, or for temporary storage. I don’t think it was necessary for strengthening purposes, the other obvious possibility.
Here, at Umm Salal Muhammad, is an example of the second type of structure – a fortified domestic building seen from the back. The lower photograph shows the building in its setting in 1955. As it was not anticipated that prolonged sieges would be experienced, it was only necessary to fortify these developments against the use of small arms. They were normally of two storey construction although the tallest of them, the fortified structure – seen here from the old garden area adjacent to it – and watch tower at Umm Salal Muhammad went up to four storeys. There was little need to have tall buildings. Even a two story building provides good vision of the surrounding desert, particularly when it was possible to have access to viewing positions – fat’ha al murakaba – from the top of the towers, in effect from the third floor. The inhabitants of these buildings would also rely on good intelligence in what is a relatively small peninsula. Because of this I am not sure why the building of Umm Salal Muhammad was the height it is, though it may have had something to do with the present land configuration where the base of the structure is a little way below the level of the land fifty metres away.
There are a number of features incorporated into this building that are unusual in the peninsula, though are to be found in the hinterland. Its most significant feature is its proportion which is taller than usual, its position being enhanced by its location on a slightly raised area adjacent to both water and a cultivatable area. There are no openings at first floor level, but a significant number on the upper storey. It is unusual to have so many fat’ha al murakaba or ’ayyin set so close together. Nor is it clear why the larger, rectangular openings are required, though I assume they are for viewing. Whatever the reason they represent a potential weakness as a defender may be seen easily through them, which is not the case with a fat’ha al murakaba. The vertical ’ayyin give kneeling or standing defenders a range of angles from which to view or shoot downwards at targets relatively close to the building, whereas the small, circular ’ayyin can only be used by defenders standing, and aiming at distant targets. Note, too, that there are no shandal projecting from the building that might be used by attackers to gain access, and that the maraazim are not of wood, but apparently of juss. All of these factors suggest serious defensive considerations for the building – except for the large viewing holes, of course.
Each successive storey – tabiq – of a tall building was usually built of progressively narrower walls. Although in the normal single or even double storey building it is not possible to see any narrowing of the walls within the storey height, some structures – notably those of fortified desert buildings – had visibly battered walls. In particular the builders of these constructions took great care to ensure that there were no unprotected corners which would be at risk from rain or enemy attack, and this was normally accomplished by locating a circular tower or strengthened building at each corner. An additional defence of the structure was accomplished by thickening the first metre in height of the wall from the ground – tadiem, or hizam as suwr.
In addition to the observation holes there were also holes for rifle – ’ayyin – which, due to the thickness of the walls, did not permit free traverse for rifles, but individually concentrated on overlapping arcs of fire. Holes in the corner towers gave good sight along the length of the walls, facilitating enfilade fire, and devices were also introduced which created larger, triangular holes overlooking the gateways and any activities concentrating at the foot of the towers. Good examples of these can be seen at the al-Zubara fort.
These first two photographs illustrate a more domestic form of fortified building, and were taken at al-Athba in the north of the peninsula. The first shows the top of a circular tower that was constructed with heavily battered walls. The tower incorporated a large number of fat’ha al murakaba or ’ayyin, both circular and slit, for defensive purposes and has the appearance of a serious and defendable building. In addition to these features there are a number of other points to note. Firstly, there is the decorative feature of the shurfa set on a ledge on the top of the tower, combining an aesthetic appeal with a functional requirement. In contrast to this, the wall to the courtyard has a rounded top to it which I assume is designed in this way to make it difficult for an attacker to obtain a purchase. Next, there is the continuation of the shandal outside the face of the wall coincidentally illustrating that they are laid in a single direction and do not radiate from a central position. I noted earlier that the walls are heavily battered. It is not possible to say if this was solely for defensive purposes or whether it indicates a lack of familiarity with this type of construction.
In contrast to the above, these next two photographs are also of a fortified building at al-Athba, but this time illustrate a squared fortified building. It would be interesting to know which is the earlier construction or whether they are coeval. Whichever might be the case, I wonder why they are so different.
The shurfa is not as interesting as that in the upper example but will fulfill similar requirements. Its corner detailing is traditional and shows that some care was taken with the design. Note that the ’ayyin are located at a high level for a man standing but that the slits are at a lower level indicating that they are designed to suit a man aiming downwards. This is similar to the arrangement on the upper structure. You can also see that the roof has been provided with maraazim to shed rain, and I believe one can be seen on the right of the first photograph of the upper building.
This structure is the weaker of the two. As mentioned elsewhere, walls constructed of hasa from the desert of sea do not bond mechanically together well, so junctions and corners are necessarily weak. In fortified buildings this usually led to the corners being reinforced as can be seen in the lower photograph of this structure.
This photograph is of a defensive tower at al-Markhiyah, about four kilometres north of Doha and north-west of the New District of Doha, actually now an element the district. A generation ago this was a small self-contained settlement with a family group and their retainers living in a slight declivity offering a small degree of protection. At the time it was established, there would have been clear separation from both Doha and al-Bida, the original settlement on the West Bay. Because of this, a form of defence would have been considered a necessity.
The tower appears to have built as a defensive element though the mushrabiyaat at its top has limited defensive capability. It would, however, have worked as a watch tower. Although functionally similar it is of different construction style from those illustrated above which are generally from the interior of the peninsula, whereas this is near the coast. The tower has a large number of small square and much smaller, circular ’ayyin allowing defenders a degree of protection as well as enabling them to shoot at any attackers. Both these ’ayyin can also be seen in the lower wall. It is difficult to say why there are two types of ’ayyin in the wall; my guess would be that the larger is for looking from, the smaller for shooting through, though it would be easier to shoot through the larger ones. The small ’ayyin appear very small to function well.
I can’t say which developed first – the interior or the littoral of Qatar. The probability is that the development of the interior and coast were coeval, although there would have been significant differences in the manner and scale of their construction, notwithstanding the lack of alternative materials with which to build. Additional differences would have been apparent caused by the different character of the people, their work and the density of development. It is worth noting that littoral developments were liable to raiders from the desert and that simple watch towers were a feature of a number of the littoral developments in Qatar, particularly at Al Khor and Doha.
Previously I mentioned the watch or refuge towers at Umm Salal Muhammad in the centre of the peninsula. As you can see from the top photograph, they were in a poor state of repair having deteriorated through the combination of rain and neglect parts of them falling down every winter. They were restored as part of a programme coinciding with the Asian Games held in December 2006. I don’t recall the mosque being there, but am sure it will have been for it to have been restored. It is now part of a walled arrangement, changing its character significantly.
This pair of photographs show what the two towers might have looked like in their prime. If they were Turkish watch towers as I have been told, this would have been around the first ten years of the twentieth century – a hundred years ago. Their location and height gave good sight over routes to and from the north of the country over the relatively flat landscape. But I have also been told that they were erected by Sheikh Muhammad bin Jassim Al Thani as refuge towers – buildings in which locals could take refuge for short periods of time when badu were raiding – this ownership continuing with his son, Jassim bin Muhammad bin Jassim becoming Minister of Electricity and Water in the nineteen seventies.
I don’t know what they would have originally looked like but I have to assume that the form they are now in is relatively accurate. Certainly the footprint will be corrrect and I imagine that the height will also be the same as, if not similar to, the original. There are two details that look interesting.
In the first photograph the shandal – mangrove pole joists – project from the building which I would have thought ran counter to the need for security. The poles also seem to be closer together than usual. I can think of only one reason that would explain both these observations: that the floor span was further than usual and required both the narrower spacing in order to spread the loads better as well as taking them through the face of the walls to maximise their structural integrity.
In the lower photograph the fat’ha al murakaba or ’ayyin – defensive holes through which to operate guns – are at shoulder height, not at kneeling height as they are in the fort at al-Zubara.
The lower photograph also illustrates well the effect dentate crenellation has in its visual junction with the sky. This effect is discussed lower on the page. On this example it is difficult to tell from the outside whether or not there is a practical side to the crenellation as at certain levels it is too high to be useful to a standing rifleman.
Finally, these photographs are of a fortified complex in Rayyan which was constructed for a member of the ruling family. A majlis can be seen on the left with what appear to be the residential quarters on the far right. On the central corner there is the classic, circular defensive tower complete with ’ayyin and, connecting the residential element with the tower, a well-defined badgheer system. It has obviously been extended at different times but forms an attractive complex illustrative of the history of the country.
Inside the complex, the entrance building, which appears to be a classic majlis on the outside of the complex, looks slightly different in arrangement. Two of the windows are blocked off which is unusual unless this is to provide some degree of privacy to the interior of the complex, but the building illustrates the classic form of majaalis even though it incorporates a drive-through. Within the entrance to the complex there is a dikka for informal meeting under shade. All this points to the complex being for men only.
Generally speaking the building is very heavily decorated and I have the feeling that this is relatively recent. There are two unusual features to be noted. First there are the badgheer which are designed to sweep cooler air across the surface of the roof and are usually a feature of roofs to which there is access, particularly for sleeping. Here there is no access and I’m not too sure how effective the badgheer would be just as a cooling device for the roof structure. The second thing to note is the location of the mirzam which appear to be located under or nearly under the structural uprights of the badgheer rather than centrally between them.
Judging from the evidence of the extant architecture in Qatar, the builders of littoral developments came from or were influenced by the architecture of Iran. A cursory inspection of the main coastal settlements of both sides of the Gulf will demonstrate the similarity that exists between them, the main difference being due to the amount of wealth available for construction, although there are slight architectural differences. By contrast, the builders of the houses of the interior were influenced more by the architecture of the Najd. This particularly applies to the fortified houses which were constructed within the interior at locations such as Rayyan, Wajbah, Umm Salal Muhammad, ? in the north near al-Zubara, as well as the fort at al-Zubara. Further evidence of the origins of the people who lived on the coast and inland can be seen in the family names, those of the coast having many Persian names, and those inland sharing the names of those in the Arabian peninsula.
With regard to the builders, I have seen the same elements of construction and building techniques both in Iran and in Qatar where traditional buildings have been reconstructed. Examples of these works are the Doha Museum at Feriq al Salata and the re-building of Sheikh Khalifa bin Hamad’s house in the new Diwan al Amiri in Doha.
The town of al-Zubara is a different example altogether having being constructed by those members of the Al Khalifah who settled on this tip of Qatar and ruled Bahrein from there. This photo shows how it looks now as well as its relationship with al-Zubara fort which can be seen in the far distance. The settlement has a protective wall built round it, locking on to the sea at both ends. Regrettably none of the buildings now stand, although in the mid-seventies it was possible to see much of one wall of the main mosque. However, work is slowly being carried out on it to determine more of the pattern of development and learn of the lives of those who lived there.
Despite the examples of the architecture of the interior, coastal architecture for the mass of housing in Qatar followed the inexpensive models of the other side of the Persian/Arabian Gulf but, of course, in a more dense pattern as family housing groups coalesced near the shore lines, the sea being the source of their livelihood.
The upper of these two photos is of the littoral village of al Jumail, between al-Ruwais and al-Zubarah in the north of the country. It is typical of the abandoned villages around the country illustrating how little remains of buildings constructed of hasa and juss when not maintained for a few decades. Below it, for comparison, is a photograph taken in the early nineteen seventies in al Wakra, buildings that have now, for the most part, sadly disappeared. This row of buildings were oriented so that their first floors faced the sea to take benefit from the on-shore breezes common in the early part of the day. Al Jumail was a relatively small fishing village and you can see that, compared with it, al Wakra was better off with its economy depending more on pearling compared with al Jumail.
For comparison, and perspective, I have included this photograph of the central building of the Qatar National Museum complex in Doha as it was the residential compound of a previous Ruler of Qatar, Sheikh Abdullah bin Qassim Al Thani. Situated in feriq Al Salata, on the east bay of Doha. It occupied a slight rise and demonstrates the epitome of residential development, being constructed at the turn of the twentieth century. The main building in its centre, shown here, was the majlis, and although it appears to be isolated at the centre of a peripheral development, the original development contained within it enclosures establishing areas of privacy that were taken down with the redevelopment of the compound as a museum.
This aerial photograph of al-Ruwais illustrates an interesting point. You can see that the village – the old village is the nearer part of the urban development, just left of the centre of the photo – is situated directly on the coast behind the reefs offshore. There appears to be two reasons for this: firstly that the reefs protected the shore and village in times of bad weather and, secondly, the shallow reefs also protected the village from assault from the sea. This was a factor mentioned in British accounts of dealing with piracy in the Gulf when they were unable to pursue craft whose crews understood the reefs better and which generally had shallower drafts.
The better off merchants were able to build houses which matched more closely the Persian models already established elsewhere in the Gulf particularly, of course, Iran, the origin of many of the merchants. Sheikh Abdullah bin Ali Al Thani – the great-grandfather of the present Ruler of Qatar, for instance, used an ustad or benna – a master builder from the Shi’ite community of Bahrein to construct the palace complex he developed in Feriq al Salata, to the east of Doha. Similar, but better organised buildings could still be seen in Wakra, in the early seventies. There it was possible to see the remains of a considerable number of relatively good quality buildings, and I understand there to have been a number of wind towers there – more than anywhere else in Qatar.
In the interior of the peninsula there were a number of settlements established over time in the manner described further up this page. With a combination of factors such as the increase in wealth, improved living standards, the provision of utilities, grazing difficulties and government policy promoting the consolidation of housing into sites on the outskirts of more formal developments, these small settlements were deserted. Many now stand empty though there is ownership associated with them which makes their future unclear. Traditionally built structures will fail within about thirty years though it is likely that cement block structures will have their walls standing longer. However, the character of these structures very much reflects the way in which people built and lived their lives in the desert and, in this respect, is a true representation of traditional architecture of the peninsula.
This photograph is of a street in al-Ghashamiyah in the north of the peninsula. It is included in order to give some indication of how the loosely distributed houses illustrated in the photograph above, became more established while still retaining a little of the sense of openness. What is particularly notable is that the buildings keep their scale in terms of height, but have become larger. The rooms have relatively high ceilings, the windows are low and protected by iron bars externally and wooden shutters internally, and there are high level openings to assist in ventilating the room. The mirzam on the left has broken but, more notably, appears not to come off the long side of the structure which is where I would have expected it to be located.
This photograph is of a street in al-Ghashamiyah in the north of the peninsula. It is included in order to give some indication of how the loosely distributed houses illustrated in the photograph above, became more established while still retaining a little of the sense of openness. What is particularly notable is that the buildings keep their scale in terms of height, but have become larger. The rooms have relatively high ceilings, the windows are low and protected by iron bars externally and wooden shutters internally, and there are high level openings to assist in ventilating the room. The mirzam on the left has broken but, more notably, appears not to come off the long side of the structure which is where I would have expected it to be located.
There are two other items of interest. The first is the extent to which the accacia tree has been allowed to interfere with the building and, in the distance, where the character of the more modern buildings of the sixties can be compared with the nearer, earlier, structure.
The character of traditional buildings in the Gulf is often assumed by Western architects to be very similar if not the same. At first sight this might be thought so but is really a long way from the truth. Not only do the people differ in many ways, but so do the environmental conditions that influenced building characteristics. In addition to this, the length of time that the States had to create their structures and the amount of funding available for materials have also had an effect on traditional structures. Dubai, for instance, is very humid compared with Doha with, perhaps, Manama in Bahrein falling between them. Bahrein has developed over a long time for reasons I’ve mentioned on the history page of this site, and Dubai has had a longer history of contact with the countries of the Indian sub-continent, east Africa and Iran compared with Qatar.
This photograph was taken in the Bastakia, Dubai, and illustrates a style of architecture very similar in many respects to Qatari architecture. The burj al hawwa is very similar to that illustrated below in Doha, though generally the detailing is finer, perhaps because of the historic geographic links I’ve mentioned. There are a number of wind towers in the Bastakia, far more than there were in Qatar. Again I suspect this has a lot to do with the higher humidity and the development of the urban structure along the creek compared with Qatar where, in Doha and Wakra, development was far closer to the sea and the effects of on-shore and off-shore breezes. The urban grain was tighter in Dubai which would again have suggested the need to bring moving air down into the structures with the use of a burj al hawwa.
This building, photographed in al-Wakra, is of a style which I have only seen elsewhere in the Qatar peninsula, in al-Rayyan. It is, however, similar to a style of architecture found in the Eastern Province of Saudi Arabia and shows the links between the Qatar peninsula and the Arabian hinterland. From the positioning of the mirzam the roof space can be seen to have a high parapet. Generally in Qatar, the roof space will be uncomfortable if not cooled and, to provide cooling, a badgheer would be provided in order to bring air down onto the roof surface. The other detail which appears to come from the Arabian hinterland is, in the farther structure, the horizontal layering of raised chevrons. I believe this may be derived from mud structures where the chevrons were designed to break up or control water flow down the face of the building. Both structures have a highly decorative roof line which, as I have suggested elsewhere may be both an aesthetic refinement as well as reflecting superstition.
Before continuing with notes on traditional design and construction it would be sensible to add a little more about the architecture that was introduced to the peninsula prior to the availability of much greater wealth. In effect this would relate to the architecture of the nineteen forties to seventies.
This first photograph was taken in 1973 and shows an old building in Doha, I think in al-Najada, probably constructed around the nineteen-forties if not earlier. Situated on the edge of the older urban development it is designed for a higher density location than is usual and is essentially a two storey building, but one that has had elements added to its roof, probably to accommodate an expanding family. It owes its design influence to the urban hinterland. There are no badgheer as such, though there are panels to provide ventilation at roof level together with a timber balcony arrangement at first floor level giving light and ventilation to the rooms behind, and protected from the rain by an arrangement of wooden panels. There is a projecting zuli stye hamaam on the right of the building and also the provision of long maraazim to throw water from the roof away from the walls of the building. The ground floor of the building is constructed some way distance from the surrounding ground in order to keep the building safe from heavy rains. Oddly there is a very small dikka adjacent to the open doors which appear not to be a darwaazah but babain to a shop or store indicating that the building probably belonged to a merchant.
These next two photographs are of the British Political Agency building, both taken in the 1950s, the second in 1952. The building was situated opposite to, and to the east of, the Diwan al Amiri, between which was later established the clock tower in 1956. I have included them as they represent a type of architecture which represents the first new buildings based on an architecture similar to the traditional forms but definitely of a different style, this partly due to connections with the Indian sub-continent and experience there.
This façade of the building faces west and, as such, receives a heavy solar loading, so it is not surprising that there are relatively few and small openings in it, and that it appears to have utility rooms located behind it – even though this façade faces the important buildings of the Diwan al Amiri and the main mosque. The structural system was straight column and beam with concrete block infill panels. This relates to the traditional construction system though here it was formed from reinforced concrete, a relatively recent development at the time and one which took some time to get right as there were problems with both the quality of the steel as well as the sand and shell sand used for insulation, problems discussed elsewhere. Buildings similar to this were constructed in Rumaillah and used as residences. They were characterised by high ceilings and large balconies, as is this. They all have something in common with the central building in what is now the Doha National Museum at feriq al-Salata, built in 1901 and restored and converted to a museum in the 1980s, though the decorative style is different as well as the amount of enclosed space is greater in what is an office building rather than a residence.
Here is the building again, eleven years later in 1963. Small changes have been made to the parapet wall, toilet windows and entrance but otherwise this shows it a little more clearly than the previous photograph. The links with traditional Qatari construction can be seen in both the form of the building as well as in some of its details. The trabeated construction form is evident as are the decorative feature in the corners of the columns and beams of the balconies, as well as the functional feature of the mirzam which are located traditionally rather than where a European might place them – in between columns rather than on top of them as shown here. The windows appear to have some form of internal screen to protect against the sun. This would be line with traditional practice where solid shutters tend to be used internally, more for security than solar control, though satisfying the same requirement. I should add that the entrance canopy form is eccentric.
To the right, south, of the Agency is a building which can be seen to be a development of the Agency type. It has more in common with an office type of building than a residential one as can be seen by the regular structural spacing and the large, similar windows, the corner feature masking a staircase and, this time, each mirzam being located central to the columnar spacing.
This photograph is perhaps more interesting for historical purposes. Taken from the Political Agency it shows the view north to the bay with the end of the jetty just visible on the right, the manara of a small masjid in the centre and, on the left, the single storied Qatar Cold Stores building, one of the shops from which foodstuffs were bought until the mid seventies. This is now the location of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The photo illustrates the character of this part of Doha which was related to storage for goods brought in by sea, many of the major merchants having properties fronting the sea to the east.
The photograph above looks north from the higher ground of the old Politial Agency. To the right, and just out of picture, was the Baladiya, the old Doha Municipality building, also housing the Ministry of Municipal Affairs. Here is an old photograph of it, the four storey building facing north and illustrating a new character of architecture. At the time it must have been a striking addition to the urban scene. Constructed on rising ground, its Western inspired, regularly arched façade reflected traditional architecture in the rhythm of its openings with their slightly arched heads, and was complemented by naqsh carving above its raised entrance.
You will see that the Political Agency building above was constructed in a similar manner to traditional buildings that employed column and beam construction, albeit of hasa and juss, but now with reinforced concrete utilising cement that was being imported and, from 1965, produced by the Qatar National Cement Company at Umm Bab. As the peninsula developed, the early buildings constructed by the State relied on the same construction technique for its buildings, simple column and beam structures. This photograph is of one of the first generation of schools utilising this character of construction in Qatar, the structure clearly expressed. It would date the building from the late nineteen-sixties to the mid nineteen-seventies. The construction produced hard surfaced buildings that were inimical to the process of teaching due to reverberation problems, and is also thought to have encouraged abuse of the buildings, there being thought to be a direct correlation between poor environmental quality and bad behaviour. The design produced simple two-storey buildings that located class rooms between staircases with toilet blocks at the ends. In larger schools the ends were returned to form a ‘C’ shaped plan. Class sizes were relatively large.
Development of the centre of Doha in the fifties and sixties proceeded apace with single and two storey development being the rule and very few buildings higher at that time. Some of these buildings are still standing but their sites are now more valuable than the buildings on them and it must be anticipated that they will be brought down unless they are identified and specifically kept. This lovely example is constructed of reinforced concrete which is showing its age with spalling caused by the reinforcement rusting. But there are a number of notable features: the columns, beams and pre-cast balustrade are relatively fine – the latter being used at first floor and roof level – there is a simple, pointed arch access door at first floor level, the curved façade is delicate and under-emphasised, and the rooms have a good height to them as they were constructed at a time when natural design was standard. You can see how an air-conditioning unit has been added to cool further. Although not designed on the basis of a traditional Qatari architectural palate, the style is recognisable as a common architecture of the period, its origins, and similar styles, being still seen in the Indian sub-continent and east African coast.
These next two photographs show buildings which were constructed in al-Rumaillah, probably in the nineteen-sixties. They are here because they represent a very different kind of architecture from that which preceded it, in this case the traditional architecture which comprised the older areas of Doha. This architecture is obviously based on architecture outside Qatar, if not the region, and appears to have been designed by architects or, more likely, draftsmen from the Indian sub-continent. The curved plan forms are extremely difficult in which to arrange furniture, and the roof tiles would have been expensive imports. In the lower photograph the window designs have a very strong Indian influence both in outline with their ogee shape as well as the work of what would have been the nascent metalwork industry at that time. However, they constituted an attractive element of the urban design of the area and it is sad they have been destroyed.
The housing illustrated above tended to be constructed on the main roads of al-Rumailla and would have been considered to be modern in its design. The more normal housing is illustrated here, also in Al Rumailla, a development of traditional architecture fronting directly onto the new streets with one or two modern additions to its architecture. Note the steel doors and window, the projecting canopies on the left, as well as the crudely added blockwork increasing the height of the wall ahead.
Much of the housing in the older areas of Doha was turned over by nationals to expatriate workers working for them. A considerable amount of the housing in Rumaillah above was occupied by this workforce or by military families due to its location near the fort. But housing was also squeezed into small plots elsewhere around Doha as this photograph illustrates. These rooms were constructed within the boundary walls of the property as infill, the construction methods being mainly traditional. Note the incorporation of maraazim to shed the rainwater and shandal for the roof support, their lengths being untrimmed in order that they might be re-used on a wider span later. The rooms’ construction are obviously sub-standard and would have been extremely hot in summer even if shaded by taller buildings adjacent to them, and yet people lived there as witnessed by the television aerial.
Contrasting with the above, this is the entrance to the Guest Palace at Rumaillah, constructed in the early 1950s by Darwish Engineering, the main contractor at that time. The Arab tradition for hospitality saw the State construct this development for housing Heads of State visiting the country. The Guest Palace is surrounded by a high security wall surmounted by sloped green tiles and lights. The entrance gate, shown here, has security positions at each side of the gate and features a fluorescent flag and calligraphy directly over the door. You can see a family resemblance with the housing in the photographs directly above and I believe that the housing was built at the same time, its architecture being deliberately related to the Palace.
As I noted on the page looking at historic Qatar, Sheikh Abdullah moved in 1923 from al-Salata to the raised site located between the centre of Doha and the village of al-Bida, establishing a complex from which he intended to live and deal with the affairs of state. While the site overlooked Doha’s suq to its east, the al-Thani family links were physically demonstrated by the importance of the road leading back to Rayyan in the west. In the area immediately to the west of the palace a number of members of the al-Thani family began to establish their houses though, in many cases, they also maintained residences in Rayyan.
This group of photographs are of the entrances to the residences of members of the al-Thani family and are situated adjacent to the Rayyan Road at the edge of Al Bida. The first of the photographs shows the south wall of the nearest of these palaces to the palace of the Ruler of the country. This is its face to the Rayyan Road, looking east. There are other residences in the area designed and built along similar lines and belonging to this group of the family.
The developments are characterised by their relatively simple internal layouts – essentially they are small houses expanded – and combine not only living accommodation for the immediate family, but also their majaalis, usually the first building encountered on entering the sites.
The entrances have similarities with the Guest Palace. The surrounding walls are high, the gateways tend to be recessed and the doors are of heavy timber. The entrances are flanked by columns, and there are elaborately designed panels over the gates. In the case of the Guest Palace there were an illuminated flag and a neon tube sign spelling out the shahada. White and pastel colours are a feature of all these buildings as is some form of lighting fitting mounted on the surrounding walls. Here on the Rayyan Road, the palaces were less flamboyant, their main decoration being connected with their entrances, particularly that associated with access to the majlis. The decoration here is a curious amalgam of styles, but with an obvious connection with the Saudi hinterland.
Before I leave this group of entrances I should just like to add a photograph of the parapet of one of the houses belonging to a member of the Royal family on the Rayyan Road. It really is a curious detail. There is some resonance with the details around the entrance gateway to the compound, but what exactly inspired it is difficult to ascertain. I’ve certainly not seen anything quite like it in the peninsula.
I may have written about this elsewhere but have added it here as it is such a common feature of these residential complexes or palaces. This is a dikka, a built-in seat adjacent to an entrance where, in the case of these complexes, retainers and watchmen sit and discuss the affairs of the day. Here the combination of the dikka, shade tree and water dispenser form a really pleasant setting for those controlling access to the complex.
Following the Second World War, development in Doha began to increase as the constraints on the country were loosened. While Qataris began to build for themselves not just the larger residential developments illustrated above, they also began to find land outside the central area where they were able to build smaller, modern houses for themselves. In addition, Qataris also began to construct residential and commercial projects to cater for the growing market and those expatriates being brought into the country to assist with its development.
Because of this, the architecture of the nineteen seventies and eighties represented a leap forward in the scale of building development in the peninsula. Doha was where the majority of large scale development took place and four to six storey mixed-use buildings incorporating a mezzanine became the standard response within a relatively arbitrary planning framework. Many of these buildings did not contain lifts. The building shown here is typical of its sort; note the incorporation of balconies – something of a luxury in those days – the wall mounted air-conditioning units and sliding aluminium windows.
Built along similar principles, and going back a decade, this photograph illustrates the character of some of the mixed use developments constructed in the nineteen sixties. Taken in 1970, the photo shows a typical such building, I believe on the west end of the ‘A’ ring road. The ground floor is given over to commercial or retail use, the upper three floors to residences having staircase access and planned on a double-loaded corridor within the apartments. A narrow balcony has been provided overlooking the street but I doubt if there is one at the rear of the property. Parking to the apartments is, as you can see, at the front of the building. Bear in mind that the ‘A’ ring road was one of the main vehicular distributors of the city.
This photograph, taken from the same building as that above, shows a house constructed for an ex-patriate. What is significant is that the boundary wall – constructed in the standard manner with reinforced concrete columns supporting a single wall of 200mm wide concrete blocks – is being added to in order to provide more privacy. There is provision for air-conditioners in the walls and there are two steel water tanks on the roof. At this time there was rarely access to the roof as that was seen to be an unnecessary cost. Taken at sunset in 1970 you can see the State football stadium centre right with the sea and eastern coastline on the skyline and, on the far left, the silhouette of the manara of the Grand Mosque, adjacent to the Diwan al Amiri and Clock Tower roundabout, west of the centre of Doha.
Note on both photographs the rudimentary but effective window hoods, designed to keep water out at the junction of the metal window frames with the concrete blockwork or render. Both the small villa and apartment block are typical of the architecture and building practices of the nineteen sixties, practices that continued as the pace of development increased.
Around the time the above developments were constructed, smaller buildings were being scattered around the urban centres, particularly Doha, again to take advantage of commercial opportunities arising from the large expatriate communities moving into the peninsula. Their size was either a consequence of available funding or, quite often, a direct response to the size of land available to the owner and the limiting constraints of the first planning requirements. Built, as those above, for foreign workforce this example in feriq al-Mansour would have been aimed at the middle or lower end of the market, the top end usually being villas. Its features are typical of many buildings of the nineteen sixties and seventies. It is of concrete block construction and is notable for the rain stringing directly above the ground floor windows affording some protection to both windows and air conditioners, though there is also an unusual continuation of the roof slab affording no real protection from either sun or rain. The first floor balcony is not really of a usable depth and tends, as does the roof, to be filled with items of storage. The fine acacia tree is likely to be feeding from broken drains or water pipes, a significant problem all around Doha.
More to be written…
Doha and the other urban conurbations saw increasing development from the nineteen fifties onward. But there was also development in the desert where those with a claim to the land established houses, usually in the form of a villa, to enable them to enjoy time away from the growing bustle of the city. Often, but only where there was suitable land they owned, these developments were established as farms – though in some cases with rawdha brought in to enable crops and, particularly, date palms to be established and thrive. This was not always successful…
Here is such a villa, though I have no idea as to why it was deserted. There may be a number of explanations for this – personal, family, financial or legal – but the reason it is here is that it represents an interesting style of architecture. The basic plan appears to be a standard development of traditional desert buildings, complete with a protecting verandah. But larger windows than would have been traditional have been incorporated into the building, each associated with a door, implying a series of rooms with a single large room at the front, left of the building. This large room appears to be a family room which suggests a relaxed, family-oriented project, but which would have required a majlis incorporated into an external, protective wall of the development. Apart from the size of the windows, the interesting feature is the styling which has been given to the building, lending it a very un-Arabic appearance. This kind of approach was very common in Qatar in the nineteen sixties and seventies where the designers styled rather than designed buildings, and where the curving of the junction of column and beam, and column and floor was a feature. This style was also found elsewhere at the time and may be the source of the styling. There are or were many buildings in Qatar which have had a similar form of treatment.
Villas are not only constructed in the middle of the peninsula, they are also built along the shore. Their location is usually dependent upon old traditions, in the main depending upon tribal boundaries and perceived ownership, an issue that has created problems in the past. In many cases this has seen the development of substantial properties which form the focus of life at weekends, both on the sea as well as inland. But these might also be relatively humble buildings, some of which were constructed some time ago, but continue in use with no great expenditure on them. This appears to be a case in point with the buildings illustrated in the next two photographs, though first I should like to comment on the older structure on the left of the upper photograph.
In many ways this is a classic, traditional room that would have been used as a majlis. It is open on all sides which illustrates that there appears to be no issue of privacy, suggesting that it is not intended for use by family but perhaps by those having business by the sea where it is located. The building appears to face south, the photograph having been taken after noon with a high sun, illustrated by the shadows of the projecting roof structure. These are not traditional shandal, but orthogonal timber joists that have been projected in the traditional manner. This implies that the structure is no older than about forty years and was developed as a working building rather than one for show. This is supported by the structure being of concrete block rather than hajaraat with a juss render.
It is also notable that the roof appears to be of a thin construction as can be seen where the maraazim breach the edge of the roof to shed water. Notice that there are five of them, a reflection of an intent to get rid of any water build up as quickly as possible, hopefully inhibiting the ingress of water to the interior.
The newer structure, the concrete block building illustrated on the right of the upper photograph and in the lower photograph, is also interesting, but for different reasons. Firstly, the design of the building is radically different. It is not a majlis but apparently a more modern concept with aluminium framed windows set at a Western height. However, on one side of the building, as can be seen in the upper photograph, the openings are at a traditionally low position, but are not as tall as would be anticipated. Also uncommonly, a shade device has been added to protect the openings from the sun on this west side of the building. It is not possible to say when the air-conditioners were installed, though they would require a generator; the unusual aspect of their situation is the low height at which they are set and which is likely to be awkward for the users of the building.
There are two other idiosyncratic points to note. Firstly the roof joists appear, on the lower photograph, to have been taken to the face of the building, but only on that side of the building. There is, of course, no reason for modern joists to be taken through to the face of the building, or beyond as was the practice. Having taken them through it seems strange not to project them a little way as can be seen on the older building in the upper photograph.
The second point to note is not so much the incorporation of shurfa decoration to the roofline in a building of this type, but the treatment on the corner. In traditional design, the corners are accented strongly, and not in the way in which this shurfa has been effected.
More to be written…
At about the same time as the buildings above were being constructed, the State made the decision to reinforce its commitment to housing as well as to education. The new wealth of the country now made this a practical proposition. Model houses and schools were designed by the Ministry of Public Works for, in the case of schools, the burgeoning Ministry of Education. The State had been educating its nationals for some time but the growing population now comprised an increasing and large percentage of expatriates whose children needed educating along with Qataris, and school spaces were insufficient to do this effectively. To teach and administer these schools the Ministry of Education brought in teachers from other parts of the Arab world, mainly Egyptians and Palestinians to carry this out, and rapidly developed a significant basis of statistics relating to needs, process and progress, on which the impetus to build was based.
The schools which resulted from this development were designed along simple lines in terms of their planning and, in terms of their aesthetics took no consideration of traditional architectural features of the country, probably because the designers were engineers and not architects. The same design was used for both boys and girls, the schools being uni-sex, and the girls’ schools being located where there might be more privacy. Development has, of course, made many of these locations less private. Here you see the façade of one of the standard boys’ schools, designed on plan in an E-shaped form, its playground being on the far side of the building, this photograph being taken from the roadside. The standard school was designed to be open and take account of natural ventilation but with only a small attempt being taken to prevent solar gain as no provision was made for orientation differences between schools. Note the brise soleil, the deep-set fenestration and the provision for ventilation at high level, one of the features taken from traditional building.
The construction of these buildings was with the materials which had become the vocabulary for all new construction, reinforced concrete with concrete block infill panels, and regrettably were not well built due to poor control and supervision. A simple problem which contributed to the irregularity of their constructed lines was the use of unsuitable timber for shuttering, a problem which has been mentioned elsewhere. One of the results of this was to produce teaching spaces and circulation spaces which were noisy and unattractive with hard surfaces, either rendered and painted or tiled. Young Qataris have told me that what students saw as poor and uncomfortable building encouraged the vandalism which was evident to anybody passing the schools.
More to be written…
Mosques in Qatar have always been of uncomplicated design and usually comprised a simple enclosed or covered space with its mihrab and qibla wall indicating the direction of Mecca, an entrance sahan, usually a riwaq, and a manara from which, traditionally, the faithful were called to prayer. These abraaj are the most distinctive and, to my mind, the most attractive characteristic of these old masaajid, representing as they do, both simplicity and strength in their construction as a reflection of worship. Many have been demolished, allowed to fall into disrepair, or have been rebuilt either in some semblance of the original, or as a completely new, and larger, design. In many respects this mirrors what has happened with other types of building, with the exception that, for commercial reasons, rarely are those buildings allowed just to fall into disrepair other than where there are political or historical reasons for it.
There will have been masaajid in Qatar for centuries, associated with settlements such as that at Zubarah, an early settlement on the north-west corner of the peninsula. While these are likely to have followed the pattern established centuries earlier for masaajid, their three-dimensional form is lost. Most of the old style masaajid still standing were constructed around the middle of the twentieth century, the earliest two being dated to around 1935, these being the al-Ayuwni masjid in Wakra, and the Bin Obaid masjid in al-Salata. Both of them served fishing communities and were constructed near to the coast line as were similar masaajid in Sumaismah, Khor and Ruwais.
Old masaajid, such as that shown above at Ruwais, form attractive and familiar groupings that can still be seen all around the peninsula, though they are gradually being replaced by more modern versions where there is still a need for worship at that location. In some parts of the country it is, or was, possible to see both old and new structures side by side as is shown in these two photographs taken in Wakra in May 1973. The photographs illustrate one of the simple, traditional styles of manara with, behind or beside it, a typical design that was constructed with the early oil income from from the nineteen sixties. This style of masjid was constructed from concrete blocks and reinforced concrete and was able to reach greater heights than the hasa and juss constructions that characterised the early masaajid of the peninsula.
The circular, domed or conical burj is likely to represent the oldest form of manara in the Qatar peninsula. The distinctive shapes would have been relatively easy to construct
These three photographs are of a masjid at al-Ruwais in the north of the peninsula in different stages of repair. The photograph above was taken after the building appeared to have been abandoned, the second two photographs, a little while earlier. The masjid was still being used for worship when photographed in February 1975, the call to prayer being made from the slightly elevated position of the manara, and without the benefit of loudspeakers which quickly became a feature of all masaajid.
This personal scale of masjid embodies many of the intrinsic qualities of Islamic architecture in Qatar and there is a very domestic feel to this arrangement. Outside the building there is a dikka where the men can meet and talk before and after prayers, and a galvanised water tank provides the water for wudhuw’ traditional ablutions. The door and its over-panel are commonly found in the peninsula as is the pattern of balustrading forming the top of the wall. Note that, in the first of the three photographs, the door has been salvaged as have, apparently, the balustrades and water tank.
I believe that this masjid also was in Ruwais, though have to admit that I am not sure. The photograph, taken in March 1975, shows a much more slender manara that rests on a plain octagonal drum which itself stands on a rectangular base that is not in the picture but is likely to have been a small room related to the functioning of the masjid. Comparing this manara with that above, the essential difference is only the height, suggesting that this masjid was the more important of the two. What is particularly notable is that these are simple forms, crudely made, but reflecting in their design and construction an honesty that must relate to their function. Note the resemblance of its shape to that in Wakra in the photograph above, although the top of this burj is more pointed.
I had thought the next three photographs to be of the same manara, though am now not so sure. They were taken at different times but you will notice that the finial on top of the cupola is slightly different, as is the arch in the middle photograph, which might suggest they are of three different masaajid, even though this might seem counter-intuitive within a single small town.
This type of manara was built in different parts of the country, with examples at least in Doha, Wakra and Sumaismah having the short burj approached by a straight run of steps. It would have been relatively easy to construct, requiring little or no scaffolding.
This first of the three photographs is the oldest. It was taken in May, 1973 when much of Wakra was in disrepair following its being abandoned, although there were still a few people living in its old centre beside the sea. In a sense this manara has similarities with the first manara shown above at Ruwais in that it is not a fully developed manara standing on its own base, and is approached by a straight flight of stairs.
The importance of these small masaajid is that they represent a more domestic character that some believe to be more in keeping with the societies they serve and represent than the larger masaajid. While juma’a mosques might be larger to accommodate the greater numbers at Friday prayers, these small masaajid sit more comfortably within the housing areas in which they were developed, particularly with regard to their scale.
The design of the burj in the above photograph, taken in 2006, incorporates a narrow, pointed arched opening for access. All three examples have a rolled moulding over the opening encircling the burj which may have been considered to have a rôle in controlling water run-off, but I suspect is more to do with an aesthetic decision that adds a small amount of sophistication to the overall simple form of the burj. This may also be the reason for the development of the finial at the top of the burj which, in all cases, produces a visual stop to the design. Nowadays each manara tends to be surmounted by a crescent, or star and crescent.
Incidentally the origin of the star and crescent appears to be a reflection of the close conjunction of the nascent crescent moon and the planet Venus at the beginning of the holy month of Ramadhan.
This photograph was taken in Wakra in 2010. I have a feeling that it is the same building as that shown above, that photograph having been taken in 2006, this one in 2010, which means that the manara has been rebuilt. There are few manaaraat of this style in the peninsula, the structure standing on top of the ancillary rooms to the musalla of the masjid and approached by external darajaat. The structure of the manara is solid with a semi-circular headed opening and three small windows, only one of which can be seen in this photograph. The dome on top of the manara is slightly pointed with a rolled beading at its junction with the drum of the burj. It is a beautiful, simple design, and one that is very much in keeping with the architectural and religious traditions of the peninsula.
Here is another example of a mosque which makes a feature of its manara by designing it to be mounted by external darajaat. This mosque is situated at al-Sumaismah and its qibla wall is shown in another photograph below, illustrating the unusual mihrab with its doubled domed capping. But this construction is a beautiful example of simplicity with a tall domed cap and finial to the open top of the manara, and the simple design of the balustrading. Regrettably the simplicity of the traditional architecture is spoiled for me by the loudspeakers on top of the manara, and the prominence of the water tanks both inside and outside the curtilage of the mosque, curious decisions bearing in mind the trouble that was taken to mask the air-conditioning units on the east side of the building. For a design comparison, at the foot of the page there is an old photograph of a mosque that has a similar featured staircase though, in that case, the darajaat lead to the roof of the building and not to the manara.
There is more to the design of, or even the requirement for, the manara that has to be discussed further in the notes dealing with the mosque and urban design.
These two photographs were taken at al-Jumayl and Madinat al-Shamal in the north of the country, and illustrate not only the manner in which many old buildings have been allowed to deteriorate, but something of the character of the small mosques that were found all over the country. The manara on this mosque is typical of many small mosques, though a different shape from that of the mosque at the top of the page. I don’t know if the shape demonstrated a sub-regional difference but I would be interested to learn how they differed around the peninsula. In the lower photograph you can see that the columns still seem to be in relatively good condition even though the roof has fallen. The traditional decoration in the angle of the trabeated column and beam construction also look to be in a good state. However, the render is beginning to come away from the beams exposing the traditional method of construction. It is the simplicity of these small details which balances and gives interest to the restraint of the architecture.
This photograph was also taken at Madinat al-Shamal and is of the interior of the masjid, focussing on the minbar which, due to the small size of the masjid, has been incorporated into the mihrab. This type of design is a beautiful and uncomplicated way of dealing with the necessary functions of prayer while, at the same time, being designed within the simple aesthetics of the peninsula’s wahabi tradition. The semi-circular arch sits on a simply expressed capital with virtually no decorative input though, perversely perhaps, the design might have benefitted from the capitals being omitted to create a more pure expression of the structure.
This photograph is of another version of the simple abraaj to be found in the peninsula, this time at al-Jumailiyah. The manara is not as high as the others shown here, and has a more open head to it with several windows. One possibility that occurs to me is that they might reflect a concession to the wahabi preference for mosques not to have a manara, a reflection of the movement’s lack of ostentation, though a relatively common feature in Qatar despite its proximity to Saudi Arabia, the home of the wahabi movement.
These abraaj have a beauty of their own in their simple response to the needs of the community. There was no need for great height as the community was relatively small, the houses being at no great distance from the masjid and so only a short walk away. Usually abraaj are constructed on a circular plan, this shape being taken up and narrowed to create a domed finish to the manara. The reason for this is simple: desert stones are irregular in shape and not suited to forming right angled corners, and the circle is an intrinsically strong form. This argument also holds for a domed finish so it is interesting to see in these three examples that four columns have been introduced, holding a square slab on which a conical pyramid has been constructed to complete the capping of these abandoned manara. In the upper of the three photographs a little of the traditional construction can also be seen in the roofing of the musalla complete with a mirzam on top of each of the columns. In the middle photograph a typical traditional decorative element has been added to the junction of beam and column producing a richer design, while the lowest example shows a squared manara plan taken up, but completed with a circular capping.
Here is another masjid with a relatively short manara, this time at al Jumailiyah, a settlement in the centre and towards the north of the peninsula. The building takes the standard form of these small masaajid in being clearly defined, having a musalla with a traditional structural system based on five bays. There is an entrance to the internal courtyard off-centred and adjacent to the manara in the north east corner of the east side of the building, and another entrance on the south of the courtyard. The manara has a very squat proportion but the qubba on top of it is relatively refined with a larger percentage of opening to solid than most similar domed cupolas. It is interesting to see that a rim has been emphasised on top of the cylindrical element of the manara, and that the qubba is relatively narrow in comparison with the width of the supporting cylinder. A small crescent sits on top of the qubba, a feature that is different from the usual element that can be seen on the other examples here, and which suggests a later date for its construction.
Generally mosques are rebuilt larger – and with a tall manara – to reflect the increased populations of the area they serve. Perhaps this is one of the reasons there are few small mosques of this character in existing communities, though this example is obviously associated with a community that has moved and abandoned its buildings. I am not aware of any mosque of this scale that has been kept. I think it’s a shame as these structures represent a very definite architectural stage in the development of the country. Not keeping examples such as this may be regretted in the not too distant future, and I would hate to see them reconstructed as pastiche.
To the right here are two photos of the Abu Manaratain mosque, built in 1940 in Wakra, and showing the very typical shape of the early mosques in Qatar. These small, enclosed buildings with their tapering towers and simple mihrab could be seen all over the country. Many of them have now been replaced by more modern constructions, thought to serve the community better, or perhaps more accurately, reflecting the size of the increased population needing to have access. The construction was relatively easy to carry out, the towers’ battered walls and domed finish all readily carried out by hand with relatively unsophisticated labour. The result is a beautifully simple combination of shapes, sculptural in essence and ideally suited to purpose, and reflecting the local community’s relationship with Islam.
Mosque designs varied throughout the peninsula but it is by their manara that each would have been recognised, particularly when they were tall. These two photographs were taken some time apart, the upper being taken in the nineteen seventies. I believed they may have been of the same manara, though I wasn’t certain when I first made this note. I now believe the top manara is that of the old mosque at Medinat al-Shamal. The point I want to make, whether they are one or two examples, is that they represent an even simpler model of manara than that of the Wakra mosque above. In particular, they would have been relatively easy to construct. It is possible to construct most of a tower from the inside, but finishing the top of it would require some form of ladder or scaffolding. The only old tower I have seen being renovated had timber outside it, cross-braced for stability. Being an expensive material, I am not able to say if timber would have been a normal scaffolding or whether finishing would use ladders for this kind of design. However, small holes can be seen in the masonry in both photographs, and this suggests a possible location for temporary scaffolding.
This photograph is of the top of a manara in Qatar, that I believe is in the region of al-Khor. The reason for its inclusion here is that it fits the link between the simpler group above with those below. While the openings in the tower are square and extremely small, it is the modelling of the top of the manara that is interesting, appearing to mark a transition between the simple, battered and moulded conical designs with more geometrically coherent hemi-spherical designs.
This photograph is of the top of a manara at Wakra. It demonstrates how the modern requirement for broadcasting the call to prayers electronically has compromised the clean lines of the manara. While this is not a dramatic intervention, the inclusion of the loudspeaker is sufficient to destroy the shape of the windows. Though I know there is a feeling that there should be a direct line between loudspeaker and the ears of those hearing the call, there really is no reason why the loudspeakers should not be located at a lower level.
The head of this manara at al-Jumail continues the simple traditional hemi-spherical shape characteristic of the older masaajid of the peninsula. There is no rim around the head of the manara so its lines are clean, interrupted only by the windows. In the case of this manara they have an interesting shape to them, suggesting a little invention by the builders, incorporating a semi-circular shape, itself having a smaller semi-circle at its top. There are four such windows, a number common to the smaller, old masaajid, the older, larger manara tending to have six windows.
These next two photographs are of the mosque at al-Arish, a small fishing settlement west of Abu Dhuluth on the coast in the north of the peninsula. Again, the mosque and its manara are of a simple design based on the traditional layout of masaajid in this north region of Qatar. It is sad to see the body of the masjid in ruins but the manara survives and illustrates something of the simplicity of the buildings established by the fishermen who lived here.
Its manara is a simple untapered column with a semi-circular capping and four traditional semi-circular arched openings at the top, but with the addition of a squared moulding above these openings running around the manara. I can’t say why this feature has been added as most masaajid of this sort in the north have unrelieved columns. I suspect it is a design embellishment that will provide a modicum of unnecessary protection to the openings, and may be considered as a development from the earlier manaaraat of tapered, unrelieved design.
Here is a more recent reconstruction of a mosque near Umm Salal Muhammad. The minaret represents a later architectural type than that above it and was developed in order to permit the call to prayers to be made from the tower more easily. There appear to be two unusual points in this reconstruction. The first is the projection of the shandal from the face of the building. I have written elsewhere that the reason for shandal to project was an economic one. Only in expensive buildings would they be trimmed so that they did not appear on the outside face of the building; in ordinary buildings they were not trimmed with a view to their being re-used at a later date. I have been told that buildings were only thought to have a thirty year life, essentially a single generation. The second, related point, is that they appear to be closer together than usual.
This photograph is of an old masjid at al-Dhakhira in the north-east of the peninsula. It illustrates a more recent development as can be seen both in its size as well as its detailing, particularly in the manara of the masjid. I would guess it to be about forty or fifty years old, certainly a newer masjid than that illustrated at al-Wakra above, at al-Jumail and at the top of the page, though not as new as that illustrated by the manara at al-Wakra below. Its trabeated construction has simple decorative additions between column and beam, and there are mirzam draining the roof of the ancillary building which appear functional. While this all seems normal, the construction of the manara seems strange as the shandal appear to prevent access to the openings at its head. A final note of interest is the break in the centre of the beams over the nine trabeated entrance openings.
The masjid has a beautiful, simple interior, the structure accurately reflecting the method of construction. As you can see in this photograph, the masjid is large, having a row of intermediate columns running across the middle of its musalla, or covered prayer hall. The surfaces of the columns are treated with subtle articulation. and the roof is supported on shandal carried by the trabeated column and beam structure.
Here is a photograph looking down the musalla from the other direction. On the right can be seen the minbar set in the qibla wall and which, together with the mihrab indicating the direction of prayer, are the visual foci of the interior of the masjid. The minbar again shows subtle decoration in its treatment of its surfaces, the whole interior being very much in keeping with the more strict Islamic traditions of the peninsula in its dignified design.
Before leaving the masjid at al Dhakhira, it is worth illustrating the manara of the masjid. Situated as a free-standing structure in the south-east corner of the group, the entrance to the manara is gained by a very narrow opening which is created with an orthogonal shape in which there is a semi-circular arch inset about 100mm from the face of the structure. As you can see from the photograph, the door frame, sitting inside this, is also orthogonal, creating an arched opening above it. The design of this opening is a very simple detail, but one that is effective in adding subtlety to the structure.
This detail is repeated at the top of the manara where there are six openings with similar detailing. Note that, in the centre of the openings, a mangrove pole has been inserted in order to strengthen the structure at what is potentially a weak point. The cap of the manara has a top completed with a finial, typical of the original architecture of masaajid in the peninsula.
However, it is the top of the manara that incorporates a really attractive detail where the edge of the structure is finished with a small scale interpretation of shurfa that serves to soften what would otherwise be a hard edge. Why this feature is found nowhere else on the complex, I can’t say, but it is one of those small features that give personality to a building. The detail is broken to hold the small detail shown here. Facing approximately north-east across the external courtyard, the detail enhances the manara as a separate work of architecture, giving it a greater prominence within the group. I have always considered this detail to be a stylised crescent moon and star, but have to admit that I’m unsure if this is so.
This photograph, of the top of a manara at al-Athba has been included as it illustrates a development of the traditional architecture seen in the photographs above. Part of a rural development, some skill has been taken in developing the simple hemi-spherical dome, supporting it on what I believe to be six circular columns each supporting a simple semi-circle. This seems very much in line with the simple traditional architecture of the peninsula combining. It is a skillful and pleasing aesthetic design.
Here is a photograph of the masjid at al-Sumaismah, a settlement on the east coast of the peninsula between Doha and al-Khor. Reconstructed it is relatively large but, you will see, is similar in style to the masjid above at al-Dhakhira. The reason I have included it here is for two small features.
Firstly, the mihrab has twin conical domes on top of it, a feature that is relatively unusual in Qatar. Although the twin domes introduces a more refined look to the mihrab, the effect has been countered by the heavy design of the finials. The other reason for inclusion is that the roof parapet is designed with a very slight batter to it, again a refined detail and one which I’ve not been aware of in other masaajid. I also note that a low wall was added outside running along the foot of the qibla to hide mechanical plant. Compare the photograph above with the lower one, made in 1975. Notice that more windows have been added and the building re-roofed in the process of adding the raised parapet.
These towers and their associated structures were built of traditional materials – see below – the hand finishing of the walls with juss render, literally hand-applied, giving the buildings character and a charm lacking in later buildings.
These four photographs illustrate an old masjid in al-Wakra. Situated just north of the north-east corner of Sheikh Adbulraham bin Jassim’s fort, it is unusual in both its plan and elevation. It has no manara, and I don’t know if it ever had one, though I believe this would be unusual. The form of the masjid is that of an iwan for the musalla which suggests that not many people used the masjid for prayer or that, customarily, they made their prayers in the open as there is little space inside for more than two lines of people facing the qibla. The east façade has a set of seven openings surmounted by simple, right-angled arches, slightly rounded at their haunching. On the west wall, the mihrab takes the simple form of a square extension to the building entered, internally, through an ordinary squared opening. Externally, it has an off-centred cupola on it surmounted by a column finished with a simple, conical device. It is a fascinating little structure, and one that I believe to be unique.
The third of these photographs was taken in the early 1970s and is of the same building, showing that it was in disrepair in those days with a small amount of graffiti on it, but that there was evidence of a stone wall that would have set out at least the curtilage of the site. The last photograph shows it a little better in context, in particular illustrating its closeness to the north wall of the old fort. It is curious to see what is obviously a mosque standing by itself, its musalla open to the west and with nothing protecting or even marking out the site that I believe it must once have had. It is evident that some work has been carried out to preserve the structure of the mosque, but it seems unusual that nothing appears to be happening to enclose it and perhaps return it to its original form.
Here is another building in al-Wakra which has been reconstructed using hasa bahri and juss, though with the use of cement mortar in parts of the reconstruction. On each side of it can be seen the first generation of new mosque constructions in the sixties and seventies. These latter buildings were of concrete block construction, and finished with cement render. Their most notable characteristics were that they were much taller than any of the traditional structures and introduced new styles to the architectural vocabulary of the peninsula. You can also see that the nearer one is simpler and most probably older than the one which is further away.
This detail of the above building is included to make two points. The first is that the reconstruction of the old building seems to have been carried out relatively faithfully. Some of the materials that were used to repair the building were modern, particularly the use of cement rather than the traditional juss, and this is a continuing problem not just in Qatar but in other parts of the Gulf. I believe the badgheer has not been reconstructed in its original form but I’m really not sure.
The second point relates to the top of the manara where, in the original, you can see that there was a small balcony surrounding it. I don’t know if a muadthin mounted the manara to call the faithful to prayers, but that would have been its original purpose. Nowadays the muadthin uses a microphone transmitting to loud speakers set at the top of the manara, though this one appears not to have one. I assume the masjid is no longer in operation. With the small balcony taken away, the character of the manara has changed considerably. Its new form is, perhaps, more in line with Qatar’s wahabi traditions, but I prefer the older form, perhaps because it represents a stage in the development of Qatar’s more traditional architecture.
Here is a detail of the top of the manara which shows in more detail how the refurbishment was carried out. The shaft of the burj is circular, but the enclosure at the top of its capping is hexagonal. Each of the openings has a semi-circular head with small shoulders that are integral with the face of the six columns. These were the original openings to the balcony but, with its removal, each of the openings has been closed with twelve standard pre-cast concrete blocks. It is not a very elegant solution, though it does have a basic relationship with the traditional architecture of the peninsula.
This is an interesting small manara located in Wakra. The burj of the manara is relatively short and squat and is slightly bowed rather than being battered or a regular cylinder. The openings in the burj are level rather than spiraling which suggests that access to the top of the manara is by ladders rather than by a circular staircase. The head of the manara suggests that it was constructed some time ago, the dome being supported on six semi-circular arches themselves carried on slim columns with simple capitals. The hexagonal wooden balustrade provides only limited protection but produces a different character from many of the mosques in the peninsula.
You will see that the top of this manara is very similar in its design to that above in Wakra. However, it is a more refined example. The shaft of the burj is circular and slimmer, the projecting ledge around the head is similarly octagonal, supporting balustrading of capped newel posts, handrail and diagonal bracing having a feature at their crossing. The eight columns support simple semicircular arches above which there is a more complex capping with crestings around a pointed cupola completed by the traditional finial.
Here, also from Wakra, is a photograph of a beautiful old manara viewed at the setting of the day. There are two notable characteristics illustrated by the photograph. Firstly, the manara is relatively low. While it is a little higher than the roof of the masjid, it accords in its general appearance, with the wahabi traditions mentioned earlier in that it is simple and unadorned. The second characteristic is its general shape. The heavily battered walls of the manara have a strong resonance with the architecture of the Najd, the large area of the Saudi Arabian hinterland, particularly with its fortified structures. While there is no suggestion of a need to fortify the masjid, there is the probability that those constructing it were familiar with those building techniques, or actually came from the Najd.
The capping of the manara is also interesting. The conical form is unusual for the peninsula. I know of only two other similar forms in the traditional masaajid of Qatar, though they sit on a flat base and don’t join the body of the tower as this does. Generally the capping of manaraat in Qatar were rounded as can be seen in many of the photographs above.
I have included the al-Qubib masjid in Doha, also known by some as the Qassim bin Muhammad al Thani masjid, as it is now sadly demolished. I am not sure when this was, but it was either in late 2008 or early 2009. Many expatriates knew it as the pigeon mosque due to the numbers of these birds that customarily sat on it. The masjid stood to the east of the old central suq waqf and would have been a large building for its time, reconstructed along the lines of a previous masjid in the late 1950s. Compared with the smaller masaajid in Qatar, and despite its lack of height, this had a more urban feel to it.
The manara of the masjid is very unusual for Qatar. This photograph illustrates it in a little more detail so that you can see both its simplicity, and the manner in which the gadrooning runs straight into the tapered, circular burj of the manara without an intervening horizontal decoration. There used to be an older masjid in Qatar, illustrated below in an old sepia photograph. As you will see, that masjid had domes on it, and I wonder if it was the one that was replaced by this building.
Although there is a related note on this design elsewhere, it is worthwhile repeating it with regard to the manara. A new Grand Mosque is being constructed in a prominent position on the edge of the New District of Doha. Its design mirrors that of the old Qassim bin Muhammad al Thani masjid, demolished in 2009, but on a much grander scale. The top of its manara is shown here. Although larger, it lacks something of the grandeur in the simpler, older, manara shown above it. The two photographs also illustrate the visual importance of the finial in the overall design of the manara.
The older masjid was unusual or unique in Qatar, if not in the region. A masjid originally stood on its site and the al-Qubib masjid was apparently similar in its layout to the original which I believe was constructed by the Ottoman occupation, though I am not sure of this.
As can be seen from the top photograph, the masjid had a number of qubab, one over each columnar bay. Unusually for Qatar, the masjid was developed along traditional lines in having offices for associated functions of the masjid incorporated in its design. In addition, the building was air-conditioned.
Internally the building was dominated by the heavy columns supporting the roof and qubab. Internally and externally, simple pointed arches were a feature of spanning openings. Externally it had a number of unusual features, particularly associated with the qibla wall which had small openings near the roof line as well as maraazim to relieve its long roofline. The corners of the qibla wall had battered, rounded structures reminiscent of fortified structures, but with a stepped qubba device capping them. At the foot of the qibla wall, the rounded haunching was again resonant of fortified structures.
Both the mihrab and manara had a strong similarity to the traditional architecture of Qatar, though the treatment of the top of the manara is more sophisticated than any of the other, older manaraat. Although the building has for me an African flavour, the treatment of the tops of the mihrab and manara seems to relate more to the Indian sub-continent. The masjid had a simplicity and strength to it that was very much in accord with the traditions of the peninsula.
These next two mosques differ from those above in that I had at first believed they were newly constructed in traditional style as I thought the area was cleared for redevelopment and, therefore there was no population for which to provide a facility. However, looking at them more closely it seems that they must be refurbished rather than rebuilt. They are included here as they retain much of the character of the traditional masaajid of the region, particularly those that embody the wahabi principles of simplicity and lack of ostentation. It is fascinating to see them in this setting, contrasting vividly with the glass and heavily styled modern buildings that are rising around them, both in their architecture as well as in what they represent. Traditional masaajid had no need to have tall manara as the surrounding housing would have been mostly single storey. This was the case in this part of Doha, feriq al-Salata, with the exception of the nearby complex now housing the Qatar National Museum which contained two-storey buildings. The first masjid is the simpler of the two buildings and has a relatively heavily battered construction to its manara, a feature that is found in some of the older buildings, and one that I have always associated with the older constructions, though this might not be the case.
Each of the masaajid has a short manara with a domed head finished with a finial, typically for Qatar designed in the form of a cone sitting on a short circular column.
The heads are designed differently with the first manara having a head that is flatter and smaller than the column of the burj on which it sits. In this case the form the head takes is a naïve development of a column and beam construction with inset semi-circular arches, the head sitting on a typically expressed ledge that suggests the floor of an internal platform.
The second masjid has a simple manara that runs through the ledge below the openings in the head, producing a simpler design reinforced by having the openings of semi-circular headed arches punched through. The addition of vertical fluorescent lighting strips, however, complicates this clean line, creating a more detailed effect in daylight. Note that both masaajid have had the typical grey loudspeakers fitted that are used to broadcast the calls to prayer.
This photograph shows a number of details associated with the entrance to the larger masjid, suggesting this is an existing building rather than a rebuilt one. Facing south, the myaa’ al-sharb looks as if it has been there some time and has no cover to protect those using it. The privacy wall is evidently old by virtue of the additional blocks added to the top of them, a feature of the nineteen seventies. The entrance gate has columns incorporating simple semi-circular attached features supporting a rectangular head that is almost deep enough to have a decorative treatment in the manner of Iranian and Egyptian porches. The main building of the masjid shows a very typical Qatar treatment with decoration within the junctions of the trabeated form of structure. Perhaps more interesting is the form of the badgheer which is relatively low. At that height it is likely to be relatively ineffective but, as there is likely to be no requirement for it on the roof of the musalla, its incorporation is likely to be decorative rather than functional.
The Sheikh Faisal bin Qassim museum has a masjid associated with it. Newly built, it has been designed in a traditional style as can be seen from this photograph, and is an elegant little construction. Both the masjid and its manara appear from their colour to have been constructed from desert hasa and a juss limestone mortar. The manara sits directly on the ground but is associated with the north-east corner of a low sitting-height wall that serves to define the finaa’ or sahan, the open entrance space that leads to the musalla where the faithful pray. The burj is a simple shaft, slightly tapered and completed by a conical construction rather than a hemisphere as are many in the country. This conical type is, though, very typical of some of the older masaajid in the peninsula. Interestingly the manara is completed by a more modern metal crescent and star rather than the finials often found on the older manaaraat. Openings at the top of the manara are square and although there seem to be no loudspeakers, there are small circular lights set between each pair of openings. You may also note two slit windows two-thirds the way up the manara whose purpose is unclear.
I have to apologise for the quality of these two images, but the first was taken from the heavily textured cover of a publication over thirty years ago, the second is also from the publication, though not its cover. In addition, I am unable to say whereabouts in Qatar either of them were though, if you look at the masjid above, you may well believe that masjid to be a replacement for this. The first is placed here to illustrate a very important feature. The dome at the top of the manara is gadroon-ribbed, in many ways a novel development in the peninsula. The earliest similar form I am aware of is the much larger dome over the masjid at Qayrwaan in Tunisia that dates from 862, that masjid being one of the most important in the Islamic world. This form of dome is found in north Africa and Asia, but is not a common design and it is difficult to know how and when it might have come to Qatar. While the gadroon form is a way of stiffening a dome, in effect creating ribs, at this scale stiffening would be unnecessary and the form must be seen as decorative. Note that the masjid for which the manara is provided, has a single row of plain domes incorporated into its roof. The sahan is surrounded by a wall whose top is scalloped, again a simple decorative feature that enlivens the wall.
This manara was also included in the above-mentioned publication thirty years ago and would have been considered then an important structure. The dome and finial completing the burj are not dissimilar to those found elsewhere in the peninsula, the finial being in the mushroom form seen on some of the older manaaraat. The screening of the curved pointed arches seems unnecessary, as does the banding below it. But the extended structure below it is a curious design being too low to have been a parapet for the windows above. Constructed of projecting, cantilevered poles, reinforced by a thickened support at the wall, it appears to be a vestigial element or even an aesthetic adornment. If the latter it would be relatively rare though I do have an indistinct recollection of a similar form of construction on another manara, though that was left uncovered below. I have included the lower part of the photograph which shows the treatment of the façade of the iwan with its angled arches contrasting with the more gentle arches of the openings in the top of the manara.
I know nothing about this masjid, nor where it is, other than that it is named for Sheikh Abdullah bin Thani and that I believe it no longer exists. There are two unusual characteristics. The manara is relatively short and has unusual proportions, the lowest of the three parts is taller than is customary which creates in the central part an unfortunate shortening in its appearance. The top of the manara is simply treated though its cupola is not hemi-spherical but extended in height. The second unusual characteristic is that the masjid has a staircase leading to its roof, though I am not clear as to why this might be required.
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