Orientation

The main architectural feature of coastal housing was the importance of its orientation towards the sea. In siting houses, not only was it necessary to take account of the strong shamal winds from the north and the sun’s cycle, but there was also good reason to take advantage of the cooling effects of on-shore and off-shore breezes. Although the first houses adjacent to the sea were of simple, single storey construction as could be seen at Salata and Bida in Doha, increasing density required a second floor to be added from which the cooling breezes could be enjoyed. These invariably faced the sea. In Doha and Wakra this permitted the advantage of building on the north and west sides of compounds, and in the north of the country settlements such as Ruweis were able to face north, the shamal – coming over the sea – not bringing the dust with it which was such a problem in the rest of the country. The houses at Wakra, facing the sea to their east, had the normal disadvantage of having their long walls face west and the strong, setting sun. This may well be the reason why there were so many wind towers and badgheer to bring cooling breezes into the individual developments.

These two-storey developments – the best of them in quality being in Wakra – were distinguished by their relatively tall proportions and the arcaded form of their second storeys. The integral wind towers would have helped to bring down cool air into the houses, but the second storeys facing the sea directly also would have been able to catch and draw down some amount of the cool sea breezes. In addition to affecting the micro-climates of the individual houses they also had an effect in moving air within the relatively narrow adjacent sikka, or passageway which gave access to the house.

This system worked well until the advent of wall-mounted air-conditioning units which introduced a range of problems. Passage through the sikkat became unpleasant through the heat exhausted into the sikkat as well as the accompanying reverberating noise. In addition the condensate was allowed to drip into the pedestrian areas creating a mess if not a danger from slipping for pedestrians. All this was exacerbated by the danger of hitting your head on them from their inconsiderate location. This photo to the right was taken in Dubai in 2003, and is not typical of sikkat in Doha either in the past or today, but I have included it here as it certainly illustrates what happened with the addition of modern utility systems to old buildings.

You can see that this was taken in an old area of Doha by the size of the palm tree in the background. But you can also see that this is not an area where Qataris are living by the state of the sikka. It appears that the sikka has been taken over partially as a living area by those living in the adjacent housing, but my real purpose for including this photograph is to illustrate how wall-mounted air-conditioners affect the area outside the house. Apart from the visual effect, they can hinder movement, be dangerous to pedestrians and the water from the air-conditioners spills onto the ground.

This photo was taken in Doha, but not in the central area. Note two other points from all three photographs: firstly, the narrowness of the sikka and, in the first and third, the modern paving that would originally have been clean suban, shell sand, maintained by the adjacent residents. Incidentally, you can also see in comparing the lower two photos with the first of them, the relatively dramatic difference created when it is possible to see planting from the sikka.

This close-up photo shows suban, shell sand taken from a beach in Qatar where it used to be a plentiful commodity. The scale at the bottom is in centimetres and you can see that, while not as small as grains of sand, the shells are miniatures of those with which we are more familiar. This sand occurs naturally in large areas of the coastline and was traditionally used in two ways:

• as a clean paving material in the urban areas – as well as in the courtyards of houses, and as
• an insulating and lightweight element of roof and early cementitious structural material.

Its great disadvantage as a building material was, of course, its salt content. Its advantage was that fine dust and sand fell through it, it is an attractive material, and it doesn’t blow in the wind.

But the traditional sikkat of Doha still exist in the more modern parts of the city. Regrettably they are generally not designed in the traditional manner even though they fulfil the traditional purpose – of moving people through the appropriate areas with some degree of protection from the sun. However, modern uses and, particularly, the lack of ownership by those living adjacent to the sikkat means that there is no responsibility felt and, as a consequence, they are not maintained well. In this photo you can see utilities fixed to walls, tiles missing from the pavement, rubbish scattered around and a general feeling of disregard and disrepair.

As I have written about above, the provision of pedestrian access routes were a feature of traditional Arabic urbanisations. They were the normal means of moving around and, with some similarity to modern transport theory, were sized according to need and use, the most common size being sufficient to allow the passage of two laden camels, about 3.2 metres wide, though narrower sikkat would be found near the end of culs-de-sac where only a pedestrian access was needed.

This has changed, as you might expect, but most of the sikkat seem to be residual or accidental and not planned according to need. Nor are they properly treated as can be seen in these two photographs. In the first photograph there seems to be a genuine attempt to form a traditional sikka with a suitable width. Access drain covers have been left raised allowing for the sikka to be finished at a higher level, flush with the drain covers. In the past this has caused problems when the sikka has been left unfinished, and when the level of the adjacent housing has the same finished level as the unfinished sikka. When the sikka has been finished, the new, raised level, is well above the finished level of the housing causing problems with access levels and flooding in the event of unusual rainfalls – a not uncommon problem.

In the second photograph there can be seen the usual difficulties when the sikka is left unfinished in a more urban situation than that above. Cabling, accessible electric meters, air-conditioning units at a low level and other obstructions and rubbish contribute to difficulties in using the sikka safely. The standing water is likely to be foul water of some sort unless there is a water leak nearby. All this is exacerbated by the lack of a finished surface being provided to the sikka. Of course I have no reason to believe that this and other sikkat will not be finished, but the amount of work being carried out on new build work, the fact that it is usually expatriates living in these areas, and the resources available to carry out this character of work suggest it will take some time for the authorities to get round to it.

These two photographs were taken in the centre of Doha in the latter part of the nineteen seventies. The top photograph is of one of the main routes pedestrians took in walking from the housing on the higher ground south of the centre into the suq. This sikka was one of two that were heavily used throughout the day. The women of the adjoining houses kept the sikkat clean, brushing the surface clear and removing any rubbish – though in those days there was very little litter dropped. Sometimes the sikkat in this area would be refreshed with shell sand.

In one part of the sikkat system there were trees in adjacent properties which introduced colour and movement to the sikka as well as a little additional shade, enhancing the experience of walking through the area. There was also a single bridge linking property in joint ownership on different sides of the sikka. Although you can see it was of crude construction its location on a kink in the path created an interesting element within the urban landscape.

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Construction and materials

The construction of coastal houses differed in a number of features from those of the interior. The main visible feature, the walls – hayt or suwr – were built from ordinary limestone desert stones or stones from the sea – hasa bahri – held in juss – a limestone mortar matrix, with a juss protective render and, sometimes, a finish of nuwra – a limewash coat. The juss and nuwra were made on site from the limestone which is a feature of the country.

The walls were normally built off rock where this was possible with sites being selected for this purpose. Where this was not possible an excavation for the foundations – assass – would be made approximately a metre wide and 800mm deep and the wall started at this width below ground level, narrowing to its more usual 500-600mm thickness at ground level. The key factor in constructing walls of this form was to ensure that there were no voids in the structure. Great care was taken to make sure that all stones were completely coated in juss as they were located within the wall, and juss was thrown in to all junctions of stones in order to avoid cavities which would weaken the structure. Stones were laid in a herringbone pattern on elevation when the best craftsmanship was practised, but often the stones were laid in a more random pattern, this having to do more with the shape of the stones, and their irregularity. With minimal maintenance on the finish – which protected it from the ingress of rain – it was considered that such a house would last thirty years or more. Although primitive tools were used in the construction of houses, it is possible to see that the walls of many houses were finished literally by hand, giving a lively and attractive texture to the walls in the hard light of the region.

Barasti

One final note on housing. All over the country there are structures known as barasti which house some of the workforce though they are far more rare nowadays than they were in the last century. Constructed of beaten out oil drums and blockwork, they usually have a clean, swept sand floor and a number of conveniences, often powered by illegal utility connections. In the top example you can see that not only has the structure got a wall mounted air-conditioning unit and external water tank, but it was developed to enclose a date palm and has an external sitting area.

The photograph above was taken in 2002; the upper of these two photographs, by contrast, was taken around 1980 in one of a large area of such houses which were constructed north and adjacent to the ‘C’ ring road, in the south part of Doha. Another similar camp was located further away from the city, and I believe the lower of these two photographs is of that area. Two storey living was not all that unusual as the taller development caught some of the breezes, providing a cooler location to spend the night than the enclosed courtyards. It is clear that no serious attempt to enclose the first floor has been made in order that those sitting or lying there will benefit from the movement of air through the structure. Doha Municipality applied controls in terms of layout of these areas as can be seen in the top left part of the lower photograph, but it is interesting to see in the bottom right portion of the photograph the manner in which some of the compounds developed.

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Mud buildings

Mud buildings are likely to have been some of the first constructions created in Qatar. To build them there will have been a source of suitable material at hand, most probably rawdha, a soil suitable for sustaining plants which, when mixed as mud, is known as teen. In some countries mud bricks are fashioned from a mixture of soil and water but with the admixture of a binding material. I don’t recall having seen this in the mud structures I have seen in Qatar, nor is it evident from inspection of the photographs.

This first photograph was taken in the north of the peninsula in the nineteen seventies and shows a mud construction on which, presumably at a later date, a stone gable construction has been added using random stonework. The building will have had an arrish roof, utilising sa’af or palm fronds. As it is difficult to produce a completely water resistant roof it is likely that both the gable ends and the top of the mud walls were finished with stones in order to provide a degree of protection to them. It is significant that the bottom of the walls were not protected. It is clearly demonstrated in the photograph how the bottom of the wall has been significantly eroded by rains.

In this structure, a building used as a house and found south of Doha, care has been taken to start the construction with a base of stones directly off the desert floor. This has obviously served to protect the mud wall above it from erosion at its base. It also appears that there are a row of stones at the top of the wall intended similarly to protect the wall, as was suggested in the paragraph above. But there are three other issues illustrated by this building.

The first is that the mortar used to bind the mud bricks together has a significant amount of relatively large aggregate in it as can be seen in this detail of the photograph. While there appear to be no stones in the mud bricks, the use of small aggregate in the mortar is likely to have served as a form of protection to the mud wall, a theory supported by the fact that the mortar can be seen to be projecting from the face of the wall compared with the supported mud bricks.

Secondly, it is noticeable that there are two significant vertical channels down the face of the mud brick wall. I have been told that these were vertical rainwater channels which means that the structure would not have had an arrish roof, but that it would have been flat. In order to protect the mud walls from irregular erosion, and in the absence of wood to make maraazim to shed the water away from the building, rainwater was channelled off the room directly to run off over the ground, it being accepted that there might be some erosion which was easily repaired.

It may seem difficult to tell if this is an example of a vertical gutter or not, but I believe it is and that it shows where three used to be and where the owner has taken the opportunity to improve the drainage of his roof. The photograph was taken of a group of buildings at Umm Salal Muhammad some time ago and appears to show a structure whose roof and parapet have been mended and where maraazim appear to have been incorporated where the vertical gutters used to be.

The third item to note is the number of apertures at low level. You can see another in the photograph of the arrish mud house above. I don’t know what their purpose is, but believe it may have something to do with the need to bring air movement into the building which is only served otherwise by a single, central entrance. Those using the room would have sat or slept at ground level and would have had some advantage from air brought in at this level. It might be argued that there is also a case for having openings at a high level for venting warm air, but I have seen no evidence of this in mud houses.

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Wall construction

As might be expected, the traditional architecture of Qatar is similar in many respects to other Gulf states as well as to the architecture of the Eastern Province of Saudi Arabia. There are also similarities with some of the architecture on the other side of the Gulf, the western seaboard of Iran. Similarity of climate and available materials together with the close socio-cultural links developed over centuries within the region will have been significant factors in this development. In fact the Bastakia in Dubai is an example of people moving from abroad and introducing their own architecture in order to resolve the environmental conditions they found in their new country.

These two sketches illustrate a notional building design which has been based on observation as well as conversations with builders and craftsmen working on old buildings in Qatar. It should be seen as an attempt to demonstrate how a majlis or similar structure would have been constructed. The sketches illustrate a number of the traditional design features and constructional methods, and details from them will be used as the basis for comments on this page.

It is important to note that the sketches are not measured drawings nor the result of drawing an existing old building. The sketches are exploratory and may well change with time as research develops more accurate information. In fact it is unlikely that any single building will have been constructed exactly in this manner, and a number of the constructional details are based on issues and decisions that would have differed from builder to builder, as well as with other issues such as location, the availability of materials and labour.

The basic construction of walls was, as mentioned previously, of a trabeated or column and beam type. When left free-standing the columns had to be relatively robust as can be seen in the photograph to the right where they are fronting a liwan in a relatively sophisticated form demonstrated by the development of the normally square cross section as well as a decorated column head. This form of design can be seen in the Eastern Province of Saudi Arabia and is likely to have been imported from there.

This wasn’t the case when they were combined with solid walls. A refinement which developed with time was that the massive structural wall was elaborated into a combination of wall and pier, thus reducing the overall weight of the construction. This process is a normal consequence or characteristic of architectural or engineering design and occurs as builders become increasingly familiar with the characteristics of their constructions. The piers would be spaced about 800-1000mm apart, their dimensions depending upon the number of storeys, the height of the wall and the size of the stones from which they were made. The space created between the piers – rushanih – were used for storage or decorative features. In some buildings they were closed by either panels of juss or, on the coast, by slabs of faroush – a form of dead coral which is found in thin, striated bands – to create ventilation systems by offsetting a pair of panels. permitting winds to channel between them. The lower photograph shows a piece of faroush lying in the remains of a fallen structure. Note the sea shell fixed in its top left corner.

This same principle is used in many parts of the structure. The very character of the construction – irregular stones held by a limestone mortar – requires the addition of tensile elements as well as a degree of bracing. In the upper of these two photographs you can see a mangrove pole set into and between two columns to brace them. This method is often used together with similar poles at right angles to these, bracing the external columns back to the internal wall of the liwan.

The second photo shows both the external appearance of the liwan as well as wooden screening to provide privacy to anybody on the liwan. I don’t remember this on the original building and believe it may have been open then, but this simple form of screening was certainly traditional.

Walls were constructed off a relatively level and solid base, preferably of solid rock but in some cases the foundation was constructed on undisturbed sub-soil, preferably at least 300mm below the finished surface adjacent to the building. The materials of construction were either stones – most common in the desert – but also of faroush, the importance of this being that it was a dead material and unlikely to move with time. In some parts of the Gulf live coral was used and, this being subject to moving with time, the structures were reinforced with horizontally placed pieces of wood. In Qatar I have not seen this and assume the reason for it was that it was always faroush or desert stones, hasa which were used.

Stones from the desert were generally not worked in order to shape them, though some crude cutting of the relatively soft stones may have taken place in order to create a plane face to a building. However, the fact that they were irregularly shaped and sized means that they relied upon the packing of smaller stones and, particularly, juss to bind the stones together and produce a strong and relatively stable structure without the need for horizontal reinforcement. These structures were also covered on the outside with juss in order to protect the structure, a practice which requires constant maintenance in order to give continuing protection to the basic structure.

Contrasting with the hasa wall above, here is another wall seen in a house in the north of the peninsula. The stones are selected as well as being worked to create long flat units, well suited to creating a strong wall. I wonder what criteria the masons used in selecting the shapes they did in both walls. I would have thought that the flat hasa would be best suited to high, strong walls and the rounded hasa to relatively low walls. However, the converse is true in these examples. The flat hasa were seen in a boundary wall, the rounded hasa in a tall building at Umm Salal Muhammad.

This wall section is also taken from Umm Salal Muhammad where it part of a relatively tall construction. There are two things to notice here. Firstly, the size of the stones are relatively small, indicating that there were few large stones available for this building which, in turn, suggests that it may not have been regarded as such an important building. The second point, however, is that although care has been taken to fill the interior of the wall with smaller stones, it appears that juss has not been used to fill the spaces around all the stones, thus producing a relatively weak structure. Solid walls are strong only in the degree to which there are no voids within them.

I must have mentioned it elsewhere, but the difficulty masons had in constructing strong walls in Qatar was their general inability to bond stones together. Regular bricks and blocks create stable walls by their mutual, mechanical relationships. It is particularly important at corners where there is the need to strengthen the construction. Here the corner has been accurately made and the wall will be relatively strong because of it. Many Qatari buildings have their corners rounded in order to provide a strong structure, and fortified buildings invariably have rounded and buttressed corners to protect their structural integrity in case of attack.

Compare the corners of the wall illustrated above, with that shown here. In this case stones have been selected that are relatively orthogonal and have been used to create a more accurate right-angled corner. However, the problem remains where it has not been possible to bond the stones on the corner to those adjacent to them. The corner on the right is still standing, but that on the left has begun to fail from the top. The second photograph, taken of the back of the structure, illustrates a little more of the way in which this structure is failing. You can see that the walls have been constructed in the traditional manner, with an internal and external leaf, but with no through stones, stones that bond the inside leaf to the outside. As noted below, this creates holes within the wall which create weakness. Failure has meant that the outside leaf has peeled away and fallen. The reason for the wall’s failure is interesting. The walls have very little finishing juss to protect them. The roof, however, has been traditionally finished with covering layers of protection that have been carried over the top of the wall and down to shandal level. However, the effects of weather have weakened the roof at one end of the building and, with the absence of protection, the structure is failing from the top.

Compare the above with this which is another dramatic illustration of the problem created when walls are constructed from irregular desert stones. The inability to bond the junction of the two adjacent walls has caused them to fail in a precise demonstration of the corner’s lack of structural integrity. It is interesting to see that the stones forming the internal face of the room remain, showing that the wall is built of an internal and external facing of stones with an infilling of smaller stones included in order to avoid spaces within the structure that would create weaknesses. Moreover, it is notable that there is a lack of through stones that would bind the internal and external faces together, improving structural integrity. In this case, the rains have caused difficulties at the foot of the wall, washing away its protection and creating this pattern of failure.

Here is an example of a rounded corner on a two storey building in Doha, this photograph shows the ground floor supporting a badgheer at first floor level. The whole structure appears to be missing a final coat of juss so it is possible to see how the first floor corner is supported by cantilevered wooden beams. However, the structural design is curious. Note that the beams are larger than mangrove poles but also appear not to be squared off which suggests a different timber, perhaps palm tree. The technique of rounding the walls at ground floor level helps to strengthen the corner but, as a notable feature, the first floor is also rounded leaving just the floor construction expressed as a right-angled element of the construction. Examination of the photograph suggests that this band is constructed of faroush. The photograph was taken in the late nineteen seventies and my impression is that work on completing the construction was delayed and the building left uncompleted.

It is unusual to see large quantities of faroush being used but here is a detail of a wall in the north of the country illustrating its character. There were a number of reasons for using this material in building construction. Basically, the material is dead coral. It is lighter in weight than desert hasa, its form, due to its striated character, makes it suitable for building bonded and, therefore, more stable walls, it is more insulative than desert hasa and, adjacent to the coast, it was readily available for the construction of littoral developments. Having said that, it is rare to find it used in quantity. Because of its insulating character its environmental response doesn’t work in the same way as does that of walls built of hasa which rely upon the relatively slow heat gain through the day and the release of heat during the night. Walls of faroush have a slower and smaller response that, theoretically, would suggest a different form of building. However, I know little about this and would be grateful for any information on it. What would be significant is the heavy saline content of such walls and, presumably, their juss mortar which would have been most likely manufactured using sea water. Note, in this wall, the extensive deterioration of the mortar compared with the hasa walls constructed in the desert above.

This detail from the above photograph shows pieces of the faroush. They are approximately 300mm across and about 60mm high. Note the irregular texture of the stones which suits the adhesion of mortar but, ironically, the lack of juss as has been mentioned above, but the apparent use of suban for the juss mortar. The use of suban is interesting as it will have brought additional insulative quality to the wall. It was also a very common material on beaches throughout the country and, perhaps, would have been more available to the builders than might have been ordinary sand from the desert.

This photograph was also taken around the same time as that of the rounded corner building above in Al Wakra and shows a building whose external surfaces have been finished. It was, however, abandoned and, as can be seen at the top of the building, there is evidence of the beginnings of failure at least of the juss, but more probably of the underlying masonry construction above the curved element of the corner masonry. The failure of the squared masonry corner at roof level is understandable, as explained above due both to the lack of bonding at the corner as well as its exposure to the elements.

Compare and contrast the above corner detail with this acute angled corner within the redeveloped Suq Al Waqf in the centre of Doha. With its construction plainly visible, it is possible to see the difficulty of taking the wall around a sharp acute corner, though there is the benefit of the floor construction being of concrete, this providing a stable base for the wall and its associated badgheer

While massive stone walls strengthened fortified buildings at ground floor level, there were refinements made which created additional stability in all structures. In order to strengthen the walls between columns where the construction was lightened in weight as illustrated above and here to the right, mangrove poles were introduced horizontally linking the columns within the structure which had the effect of improving both lateral and tensile stability. Bonding to the stones and juss was enhanced by binding the poles with hemp rope – kumbar – which technique also improved the distance span of mangrove poles. The upper photograph to the right was taken at a building under reconstruction in Wakra; the lower photograph is of a building in the desert in the north of the country.

This photograph illustrates the end of the first floor of an old building undergoing reconstruction. It clearly shows two factors discussed previously: the first is the use of mangrove poles to form the structural bridge between columns, the second, the structural system. You can clearly see how they were used in groups of, in this case, three, bound with hemp rope both to keep the poles together as well as assist in helping the juss mortar to bond the stones to the poles.

But perhaps the more remarkable point to note is the slenderness of the columns. Bearing in mind that the building is constructed of irregular stones you might anticipate a heavier cross-section for the columns. The fact that they are relatively narrow implies that the building is the result of long development with the master builder certain of his skills in ensuring structural integrity. Looking at the end wall it appears that the horizontal mangrove poles are not continuous across the width of the building. To make them continuous would be one way of obtaining optimal structural strength and was a feature of wall construction in some parts of Saudi Arabia. It makes sense to have continuity when the columns are narrow as, without it, there would be the possibility of a lack of sufficient bearing of their ends on the columns. Where I have been able to observe it mangrove poles used as lintols were separate for each opening, but I have a suspicion that, in this case, there would be a good argument for making them continuous along the long walls of the room.

Further down the page there is a note on doors which includes this detail of an entrance door in the centre of old Doha. The decorative detail, part of a naqsh plastered arch, illustrates something of the simple character of the architecture and its detailing in Qatar. The arch and its decoration have been constructed geometrically and would have been relatively easy to set out and construct, creating a relatively sharp and clear detail. But the capitals, the top of which can be just glimpsed, show a more imaginative and foreign style.

Here, by contrast, is an interesting illustration of another arch, this time not from Qatar but from Hofuf in the eastern region of Saudi Arabia. The reason I have placed it here is not only for comparison of its cursive style with the more plain, geometric style of the Qatari arch above, but also because it represents something of the architecture of the hinterland from which there is some influence in Qatar. It shows a more playful approach to detailing with less geometric formality and a certain amount of invention.

The arch above is in an old part of Hofuf which is being demolished, this photo illustrating the character of the architecture. Although there are elements such as the badgheer which are similar to Qatari architecture, the tall arches are rarely found in Qatar. It appears that the arched construction may have been a result of the use of arches to span wall openings rather than introducing timber to span as beams in a trabeated form of construction. This might be a result either of the shortage and, therefore, expense of timber to use in the construction of lintols, or the need to provide relatively small openings either for defensive or for environmental control purposes. In Qatar, the trabeated form of construction is very common, particularly along the coastal developments where environmental conditions and, therefore, their treatment, are different from the interior.

Having said that arches are rarely found in Qatar, here is an illustration of an old building in Umm Salal Muhammad in the heart of the Qatar peninsula demonstrating the use of a similar construction to that in Hofuf. The buildings are relatively old and demonstrate a defensive character to this development which is adjacent to a well and agricultural area. The arches are of a similar, if not taller, height than those in Hofuf, and Umm Salal Muhammad is some way from the coast. It appears that there is a strong architectural connection with the buildings of the eastern province of Saudi Arabia, particularly away from the Qatari littoral.

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The arch and trabeation

Although the arch – qamr or qaws – is considered to be a strong characteristic of the architecture of the region, the standard building construction is trabeated, or column – a’amoud – and beam – jisr. Arches, where they are used, are always an applied, non-structural feature and are not integral to the construction as they are in some parts of the Arab world. Normally the arch is semi-circular, but the pointed and ogee, perhaps introduced via Iran from the Indian sub-continent, are also found in Qatar.

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The use of juss on walls

Walls are finished with juss render, the same material that is used to bond stones together. The production of juss differs from site to site but is manufactured by burning limestone or chalk – the peninsula is made of it – a process which produces quicklime or calcium oxide. The residue is crushed and then mixing with water, the process being known as slaking, and producing calcium hydroxide. This material is workable for some time as the process of hardening is a chemical one whereby carbon dioxide reacts with the calcium hydroxide to produce calcium carbonate.

While this sounds relatively straightforward, the practice is anything but as it differs from site to site dependent upon the material available, the methods used and quality control, all of which are widely variable. There are problems with the admixture of sand which, if it is taken from the coast will have a saline content as might water sourced from wells near the coast where saline inundation of fresh water is common.

Regrettably, I have never seen juss prepared and used on site in Qatar, though I have in England when this was still a relatively common practice. The probability is that in Qatar the juss mortar was prepared from fresh quicklime by slaking with a relatively small quantity of water, adding sand, screening out any unslaked quicklime and then mixed with sufficient water to produce a workable material and applied immediately.

The stones of walls were placed and fixed using juss mortar, the same or a similarly mixed material being applied to the finished wall as a render, usually by hand as can be seen in these three photographs. The purpose of this base coat was both to provide a complete, coherent finish protecting the structural material of the wall as well as creating a relatively level finish in preparation for any finishing coats that were to come. In simple developments, this base coat would often be the finished coat itself, finger marks being evidence of the speed and character of the application as can be seen in the middle of these three photographs where there is also evidence of structural cracking above the central arch, the possibility being that there is no reinforcement above it. It seems evident that the process of finishing a wall was considered to be only a necessary operation, one which did not require any artistic interpretation. In the lower photograph finger marks can again be seen as evidence of the manner of finishing the wall, but a piece of wood will have been necessary to ensure a relatively sharp vertical edge to the work, which leads to the question of why this wasn’t used to smooth the wall. Cement mortar has been used to repair cracks in the wall, but again with no great concern for the look of the finished work.

In urban settlements, however, care was usually taken to create a better effect, usually with the mechanical aid of pieces of wood to work and level the surface to a smooth finish. Here you can see that up to three finishing layers were used to build up a three-dimensional effect on the surface of the building, a relatively small difference in planes being able to create a strong effect under the sun experienced in the peninsula. In the use of modern lime renders it is common to ensure that based coats are thoroughly dried out in order to prevent cracking of the top coat. Here there appears to be some cracking of the top coat, though little evidence of it in the lower coat. Admittedly this is an old building in disrepair, the photograph having been taken around 1980, but it does illustrate the relative longevity of this material under extremely harsh conditions. Builders have told me that a building is anticipated to require no serious work for thirty years if constructed well, but it is evident from inspecting buildings that many were not well built, the most common problem being leaving voids within the construction.

It is also evident in this example that there appears to be no scratching or pricking of base coats to provide a key for subsequent coats. It is likely that the process of finishing walls with a number of coats was carried out as a continuous operation, with no waiting between coats for each to dry out. Depending on which part of the year the work was applied, there is likely to have been a significant difference in the way in which the coats would behave. This is particularly true for modern cement mortars but I do not know how this would translate to lime mortars.

But, in common with cement mortars, there would have been a problem with working up the surface, a process which brings the finer particles to the surface creating the conditions which encourage surface cracking. This may be the cause of the cracking of the panel in the left of the photograph above.

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Corner reinforcement

In addition to the manner in which lintols were dealt with over window and door openings, a device to reduce the span of the mangrove beams also produced another architectural characteristic of these buildings. The top of the walls within rooms were developed to cantilever internally. The design effect of this was to produce a heavily modelled coving effect, in some examples decorated, an embellishment which not only permits a wider room span, but which forms a satisfying aesthetic termination of the wall at ceiling level. In the upper of these two photographs the cantilever is minimal, consisting of three projections of worked juss which, while reducing the span of the ceiling joist a minimal amount, still produce a refined ending of the wall of some aesthetic consequence. In the lower photograph, the coving is more substantial and reduces the span by about 200mm on each side of the room, effectively permitting a wider room below, assuming that there is a finite length to the span of mangrove poles. The coving is constructed of massed juss, and there usually is no reinforcement in it. This would require substantial integrity in its connection with the wall though, being constructed around the ceiling joists, this would have provided some assistance in holding it in place.

This photograph, which was taken in Wakra in the mid-seventies, together with the two sketches below it, show a more developed form of ceiling coving than those above. They demonstrate not only how the corners were reinforced structurally, but how effective the cantilever can be in reducing the span of the mangrove pole beams, and in transferring the weight of the roof and its construction, onto the walls.

Internally, I have been told that the walls were sometimes strengthened at the corners by the incorporation of diagonally located mangrove poles. Incidentally, in the lower sketch I have shown the corners of the masonry wall structure here as being finished at right angles rather than rounded as is shown in the next photograph, below the sketches. In the photograph above you can see, to the right, that two poles have been inserted on top of the wall construction, with hasa being taken across them to turn the corner, and then juss packed in both to consolidate the stones as well as being worked to produce the finished moulding for the cornice. These two sketches below the photo are a theoretical illustration of how this was carried out. The wall and roof construction above the mangrove poles have been left out for clarity of illustration.

Using a similar technique it was possible to produce external corners, characteristic of some rubble walls, which is a particular feature of Gulf architecture. Walls constructed out of stones and mortar can not be bonded to each other effectively in the manner of bricks, and the corners of such buildings are, in consequence, a relatively weak point. Gulf master builders got round this by building into the corners short lengths of mangrove pole on the diagonal at a high level within the room. Internally the soffit of the triangular corner was usually decorated and, externally, the building featured a set-back or rounding which reflected the structural need to stretch out the point of weakness. The walls may or may not have had additional poles inserted in their height, this illustration showing only the diagonal bracing at ceiling cove level.

Buildings in the interior were generally fortified, as mentioned elsewhere, so openings had to be restricted in order to maintain security as well as being located well above ground level. This was also true, to some extent, of houses on the coast where there was the possibility of attack by raiders. This, and the requirement for privacy for the family, led to the characteristic blank ground floor walls of urban settlements.

But one of the main requirements of protective structures was the need for them to retain stability under attack. The weakness of the wall construction was countered by their being relatively thick, itself a consequence of the need for structural integrity. However, the weakness of unbonded walls is at their corners and bases where, under sustained attack, they will fail. So, in defensive structures such as the Kuwt in Doha and the towers in the photograph above at Umm Salal Muhammad, the corners are rounded and their junctions with the ground are thickened. These towers, incidentally, are known as the Barzan towers, but I have not yet been able to find out if this is the specific name for these towers or for watch towers generally.

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Floors and ceilings

The door threshhold – ataba – and the ground floor of the house – the hejjar – were always raised at least 150mm above the normal external finished external floor levels in order to prevent flood or rain water coming into the house. Where possible houses would be located on slight rises in order to make sure that they were not inundated. Dry river beds – wadis- were avoided as significant flows of water can rise rapidly creating damage and, in some cases, causing death.

Advantage was taken in the ceilings to use the construction as a decorative feature of the space below. Suspended floors, ghurfa and ceilings were supported by shandal, usually round, mangrove pole beams or danjal, timber beams, on top of which were placed, in the better houses, a decorative woven reed, hassira, or woven cane, basjeel, layer visible from below and over which was a woven palm mat, manqrur – to receive the first of at least two layers of well tamped down earth. In this photograph you can clearly see the shandal taken through the outside wall to obtain maximum structural bearing.

Here is an example of the look of a ceiling in an ordinary Qatari traditional house. The use of the materials described above can be clearly seen with the very simple crossed pattern of bamboo canes directly on top of the mangrove pole beams supporting the roof. Compared with the example below it, the ceiling materials are honestly displayed and not finished by painting. However, the mangrove poles are usually black as is seen in this photograph, an effect brought about by their being treated with bitumen, a process considered to prolong their life. It was obviously not considered to be a fire risk.

Here is a similar ceiling, but one that is within a building on the verge of collapse. In this case the mangrove poles have not been treated with bitumen or any other finish either to preserve their life or for decorative effect. The split canes have been laid at right angles to the poles, compared with the diagonal pattern above, and the matting above it has been laid diagonally. This is a simple ceiling in a simple room and represents the basic construction of a roof on an ordinary, single storey building.

To compare with the simple, untreated ceiling finish above, here is a photo illustrating the decorative development of a traditional ceiling, this one being located as part of a reconstructed development. In this example, the hassira, or cane has been painted a strong primary colour and the manqrur above it, appears to have been given a coat of lacquer. The shandal, appear to be at least polished, the combination of finishing providing a more sophisticated appearance for the room in which the ceiling is located. You can also see that a ceramic ceiling fitting has been incorporated in the ceiling, suggesting that a central light is to be installed. This is certainly not a normal finish to such a ceiling, where the lighting would have been provided from kerosene lamps attached to the wall.

The above examples of ceiling treatments illustrate the how the basic constructional requirements of a ceiling were carried out in practice. They represent the simplest way in which the roof is constructed, and how this reflects in is appearance. In fact, they represent the majority of ceiling treatments and are an honest reflection of construction. Here, however, is something slightly different. In this case a decision has been taken both to use more canes than would have been structurally necessary to support the matting above them, but also to add colour by painting the canes. The colouring pattern is irregular. Red and green predominate and there may be some painted black, though it is hard to tell. It is also possible to see a bit of red paint on two or three of the mangrove poles. What guided the decoration of the ceiling is difficult to tell, but it is certainly an interesting departure from the norm. Note, too, that there is the remains of a qatiya at the far end of the room that would have been used to create a little privacy from those using the room.

Where the room was to be more important, then additional interest could be introduced by the simple expedient of adding, as shown here, a central motif as well as painted canes running at right angles to the and the shandal. Note that the colours used are red, yellow and black. Although blue – particularly light blue – was used in decoration, I don’t recall seeing it used on simple ceilings such as this, though a light blue paint was used in the reconstruction of the palace of Sheikh Abdullah, now the Qatar National Museum, and illustrated here, as well as in the photograph taken in a different complex a little lower in the page where there is an obvious allusion to the colour of the sky.

These sketches illustrate the construction discussed above and provide the basic floor and ceiling elements. If a higher quality ceiling was required a timber boarded ceiling was suspended below the roof and was then painted with a two-dimensional design, usually geometric but sometimes with naturalistic flourishes, though this would be rare. Generally the decorations were really developments of the simple geometries used in Qatar and took advantage of the range of simple paints becoming available in the country. An examples is given in a photograph on the preceding page page which shows a majlis demonstrating a reconstructed ceiling at the Qatar National Museum in Doha. In the photograph in this paragraph you can see how the natural materials were used decoratively when there was less money available to produce a boarded ceiling. The sketch immediately below it illustrates the elements which make up the structural elements supporting the roof or floor. The second sketch gives the construction of the roof in a little more detail, illustrating the way in which the roof finish was supported. The earth used to finish and provide falls to the roof sat on the manqrur which can be seen supported by the hassira resting on the shandal. Below these elements can be glimpsed, in the upper sketch, the free area of ceiling left exposed by the cantilevered coving.

I understand that, in the Bastakia area of Dubai, the roof was constructed with the application of layers of clay brought over by dhow from Bandar-e Lengeh on the Iranian coast opposite Dubai, where that material was plentiful. I assume that the clay would have been mixed with a quantity of sand to reduce the tendency clay has to crack when dried out.

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Sealant

When a water-resisting seal was needed for a roof – sat’h – a layer of juss cement was used, sometimes washed with a coat of nuwra to reflect the heat as well as provide a small degree of waterproofing. However, the integrity of roofs relied more on their ability to shed water quickly than on the ability of the juss to inhibit water penetration. In this photograph you can see that the structural mangrove poles drop from left to right by at least 100mm to provide a fall for the finished roof.

I don’t know if this was the way it was intended that falls were created for the roof surface, the layers above being parallel to the mangrove poles, or if it was a way of increasing the roof’s fall. Generally roof falls are created by laying the finishing layers to fall on a horizontal base. It seems unusual aesthetically to have a ceiling sloping the way this does, but it is not the only example I have seen. Having said that, where ceilings are finished by boarding, those I have seen are nearly always horizontal and, I assume they were not levelled from an underlying sloping ceiling structure as can be seen illustrated in this photograph.

But, to contradict myself, here is a photograph I took in Wakra in the mid-seventies, of a boarded ceiling which shows a slope in the lowest plane of the ceiling ̵ the plane which incorporates the diagonal corner pieces supporting the heavy cornice above them. There appears to be a slope of about 50mm from left to right which can just be seen above the horizontal chevron moulding.

I very much regret that I can’t recall where I took this photograph nor why the structural beams appear to be set at an angle of 45° to the structural walls rather than at the normal right angles. It is the only example of its sort that I can recall. But that is not the only unusual feature. The combination of mangrove poles and planed beams holding up the floor has been established on a regular pattern. The building was being renovated and I believe the rationale for this design arrangement was that it was felt the mangrove poles were too light to take the floor and so squared beams were added as a way of reinforcing the structure.

Although the photograph above was taken in a room, most probably a majlis, this photograph was taken of a verandah in Wakra and illustrates the manner in which beams may be taken around a corner. In many ways this is the easiest way to accomplish the turn though it is wasteful of timber. The method does, however, keep the ceiling at the same level all the way around, requiring neither a deeper beam system nor any cutting of the ends of the beams, just cutting them to length. Although I have seen this pattern of ceiling beams using mangrove poles, here the timber is softwood and has suffered deterioration. Note the relatively wide width of the verandah. This together with the timber ceiling beams indicates that the building is not particularly old.

You can see from the above that there is a variety of ceiling treatment in traditional buildings, albeit small as there are only a choice of a few materials to use, and little modelling other than can be provided at the periphery of a room through variation of the cornice. In this photograph, of a wide verandah at Duhail, you can see the simplest arrangement. The mangrove poles run across the width of the verandah at between 250-300mm centres, split bamboo canes run parallel to the verandah at about 150mm centres, and above the canes is the matting supporting the roof finishes. Note there is no shortening of the mangrove pole span by the use of a cornice. In fact the mangrove poles rest directly on grouped mangrove poles that form the beams along the verandah arcade as can be seen in the photograph below.

It is commonly believed that a good roof will normally keep water out for about a good two days’ continual rain and, as continuous rain is not a feature of the Gulf, this must have seemed a reasonable approach to take. In addition to this it should also be remembered that most owners did not possess much which would suffer from the ingress of rain, and that the materials of construction and decoration were not expensive.

This notional drawing was made to illustrate a developed section through a traditional majlis or similar structure. It shows the trabeated character of the construction which automatically creates the opportunity for recesses in the wall, the beams above them spanning approximately two to three feet. Both inside the room and externally there is an attractive rhythm set up along the walls by this structural system. These recesses were used for display or the storage of a variety of items either by fitting them into the recesses or by the incorporation of shelves. Items are also hung on pegs, awtad, let into the wall as well as on nails driven in to hold guns, bags and a variety of objects.

The drawing shouldn’t be taken as being completely accurate as, for instance, there would be more than a single mirzam leading water off the roof. Although I didn’t mention it above, it should be understood that the finishing of roofs was not all that accurate and ponding was likely. The need to shed water as quickly as possible will have led for the incorporation of the numbers of maraazim commonly seen.

In addition, within the structure, infill panels were used within both the internal and external recesses to accommodate solid panels or carved naqsh panels, the latter providing decorative interest as well as, in some instances, the possibility of ventilation through the fretted panel, as in this top example on the first floor of the wind tower building in the centre of Doha. While this example has a rational logic to it in providing light and air to an upstairs room, this second photograph of a room in old Wakra illustrates a rather different arrangement. It appears that, at some time in the past, there were two naqsh panels bringing air into this ground floor room at a high level, the top panel being in the form of a small, round-headed panel similar in size to the blind panelling adjacent to it. At some stage the juss on the walls seems to have broken away or cut back to the structural wall and repaired, crudely, with a cement render, but the surface left unfinished. Perhaps this was also the time when the lower naqsh panel was sealed from the other side, though that seal has been partly broken as well.

A further feature of the walls was the occasional incorporation of wooden pegs, awtad, on which visitors could hang their bisht or cloak. These were usually built into the vertical structural element of the walls rather than within the recesses as I showed in the notional drawing above, and were painted in bands of primary colours. You can see from this example to the right the part that was built into the wall, and the turned and decorated part which projected.

The ends of these four awtad show a little of their character, the more refined one on the right is illustrated in its length above where it can be seen to be relatively sophisticated compared with those on the left. Where used in a majlis, the awtad will normally all be the same design.

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Use of mangrove poles

One notable feature of ordinary buildings is that the mangrove poles over which the roof was constructed were permitted to project from the face of the building. There are arguments that this would be useful as a base for maintenance as they are in some parts of Africa and that, by taking the beams right through the wall, the bearing of the beams on the wall would be maximised. However, these are unlikely to be the main reasons. Firstly, the majority of buildings were of single storey height and there is little problem in reaching the top of the walls with elementary equipment and, secondly, the amount of pole bearing on the top of the walls was quite sufficient for supporting the roof as they could be cut at or near to the face of the building.

It is probable that the reason for permitting them to project without cutting is that they were a valuable resource which might be used at a later date when their greater length might be of use in a slightly wider building. This may also be the reason that timbers above openings were often far longer than was necessary for structural reasons – though I have to admit they would have additionally benefited the construction at their longer lengths. Note that this mangrove pole is not bound as is often the case when used as a lintol, usually in conjunction with one or two others to span the width of the wall above. The purpose of the binding appears to be both to counter any tendency for the pole to split as well as provide an improved purchase for the juss and stones of the wall above. Previously I mentioned that there was a practice in Saudi Arabia of incorporating wood into faroush walls in order to strenghten them. I don’t believe this is such an example as there is little of it, the wall is of desert hasa, and it is not repeated in the height of the wall.

Although the mangrove pole above was not reinforced with a kumbar binding, here are two photographs demonstrating how the builders used this feature. In the upper photograph the pole is being used as a beam to span between columns and supporting the upper panel of a badgheer system. The panel is constructed the width of the mangrove pole and consists of juss covering the panel which will either be made of juss, or of a mixture of small stones and juss. The panel appears to have been made in two stages as it can be seen that there is an outer layer that has been worked to a smooth finish with a level piece of wood. The relatively thin layer at the bottom of the panel is liable to cracking and breaking as has happened due to movement and mechanical damage.

In the lower photograph the beam is supported by three mangrove poles, side by side, each of which are individually bound with a kumbar binding which is visible on the right of the column. This detail was photographed at Al Wajbah in the nineteen eighties and incidentally presents an attractive decorative detail at the junction of column and beam, as well as illustrating the usual relationship of a mirzam – virtually always directly above a column. Also note that the column is relatively slender and octagonal in plan.

As mentioned above, it is certainly a fact that many of the better traditional buildings did not have beams projecting from their faces. The timbers would be cut off at the external face of the structural stonework, with the finishing juss covering over the trimmed end as can be seen on the left of this photograph, which was taken in Wakra in 2002 when the building was in the process of being renovated.

The more expensive buildings which exposed the ras ad danjal, usually had them trimmed to the same length, though not as shown in this photograph taken in Doha in 1975. Note that these are plane-squared timber beams and not mangrove poles, and would have been a far more expensive item to purchase. Some beams, in fact, had their ends decorated by being cut to a similar pattern as is shown here. It was only the poorer houses which left them untrimmed to a variety of lengths. Having said that, I notice that the photo below has mangrove poles of different lengths. This is likely to be because the house originally was not a prestigious development, but has now been refurbished for use as a museum in the centre of Doha.

I have seen mangrove poles that have been squared off in section, but not in Qatar. I would imagine that this was an issue relating both to engineering as well as to cost. Squaring off a mangrove pole reduces its cross-sectional dimensions, particularly its depth, creating an intrinsically weaker beam. A pole with a greater diameter would have to be bought in order to provide the equivalent strength in a squared-off beam to that of a smaller diameter pole.

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Rainwater

In order to direct rainwater from the roof two devices were used. The more expensive constructions would employ a mirzam, gargoyle or water spout, let into the wall at intervals of about two metres maximum. This photograph shows a set of them on the wind tower building in the centre of Doha and illustrates that they are not only a very necessary functional requirement but also present an aesthetic benefit to the façade in improving the three-dimensional effect of the façade both by their presence as well as when introducing projected solar shadows. Notice how they are always centred on top of the structural columns rather than between them. I assume this is because it is intended to ensure water doesn’t fall against panels, but rather against the more solid columns, and also to ensure there will be no interference with any horizontal structure spanning between the columns. Having said that, it is also notable that there must be a weakening of the column above the mirzam where the columns form part of a badgheer as they do here.

On ordinary roofs with no access, the mirzam was simply built into the top layer of the earth or juss finish to the roof and projected from the horizontal at a downward angle of about 10° and to a distance, preferably, of at least 600mm from the face of the building. Here is a row of them illustrating, on the right, how the edge of the roof is built up to its junction with the wall face in order to prevent water running down the wall, so damaging the relatively soft material. It is imperative to channel water off the roof as quickly as possible. In the distance there is a view of a mirzam from the front, showing its relationship with the edge of the roof and the roof itself. Interestingly it is directed to fall over a narrow doorway and onto steps.

These gargoyles were constructed of three pieces of timber forming a u-shaped trough, at the bottom end of which would be a small cross-piece of timber below the lip whose purpose it is to resist water running back under the mirzam and damaging the wall. The assembly of the mirzam is helped by the addition of another cross-piece of timber on top, keeping the two sides in place. In some cases this piece of timber would be just nailed to the top of the mirzam but, as in this case, it was rebated into the sides in order to produce a stronger junction. There is also the possibility that this might have been a way to avoid using expensive nails, relying solely on the mechanical junction of the timber construction.

As mentioned previously, maraazim need to shed water from the roof as fast as possible. This is usually effected by a relatively thick roof – which also assists in keeping the structure cool – but one which has a significant fall across it towards the maraazim. However, this photograph suggests that the roof finish may be relatively thin at the point at which the maraazim direct water off it as, on the right particularly, the mirzam appears to be almost at the same level as the mangrove poles supporting the roof. There is obviously a danger with having a thin roof finish as that is the only way of resisting the penetration of water, there being no real waterproofing material used in roof construction. The leakage on the walls around the mirzam illustrate the difficulty of making their junctions with roofing and wall materials waterproof.

In earlier, simpler buildings where timber was not readily available water was moved from the roof by the simple expedient of making a slight declivity in the edge of the roof – normally standing slightly proud of the roof finish in order to reduce erosion – and permitting the water to fall down the face of the wall – mirzam a’amoudi. In order to protect the wall a vertical gutter was formed down the face of the wall with raised edges at its side to channel the water and prevent the water spreading over the wall and, at the foot of the wall the channel was rounded away from the wall in order to direct the water away from the house over the ground.

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Windows

Mention has been made a number of times to the character of openings in walls. Essentially, windows usually have to provide light to illuminate rooms, air to move in and out of them and, under certain conditions, to allow views to be obtained from within the room. Though this was the case from many of the first floor rooms in the old buildings at Al Wakrah, the need for privacy made this feature less of a requirement, certainly for ground floor rooms. Windows were nearly always at low levels though ventilating openings were often provided at a higher level to vent the hot air from a room.

This row of windows in an old ruined building is typical in their size and positioning of those in many of the old buildings, particularly majaalis which are usually characterised by the open character of their walls. These windows illustrate the basic design of old windows. Conceptual security problems saw the use of wrought iron bars to protect the windows. Due to their slenderness the iron bars often had a central horizontal timber frame to strengthen them. Although they look frail, the fact that they are wrought iron makes them much tougher than they appear.

The frames were made of relatively small sections of timber, generally teak as in this case, and usually nailed back into the wall to fix them. As there was an obvious problem with fixing frames securely, the vertical elements of the frame were taken down into the wall construction, about 150mm below cill level as can be seen in the illustration below.

You can see in the photograph above another feature of almost all windows, and this is the horizontal timber frame near the top of the window, providing a horizontal gap of around 100mm clear. In this case there are three vertical timbers sub-dividing this part of the window frame, coinciding with every other vertical wrought iron bar. As far as I can make out by observation, this horizontal gap provides light and air when internal vertical shutters are used, these being an additional security precaution as well as providing a degree of environmental protection.

Having said that, in buildings which were developed more recently, this feature often has glass inserted, providing light to the interior when the shutters are closed, but preventing the relatively large air flow which would enter through the gap. There would still be a degree of air movement around the shutters as they are not fitted with a great deal of accuracy.

Curiously, this feature can also be seen above doors as in this old doorway in the centre of Doha where it makes obvious sense to encourage ventilation into a space which links the central courtyard with the sikka outside. But, here in the middle of the desert, is the head of a door leading directly into the enclosed courtyard where you would not anticipate there being a problem with ventilation. It is too high to act as a window, the wrong character for a spy hole, and has little function aesthetically – yet it is not unattractive and I wonder if this was its purpose. Notice that both this opening and that in the photograph below, are protected by wrought iron bars rather than being of timber as are the openings above the windows.

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Doors

The character of openings in rooms obviously developed with time. In the simplest buildings the door, bab formed both the means of access as well as that of lighting and ventilating the space behind it. With small rooms a door opening was sufficiently large to fulfil the various requirements of security, privacy and limited environmental control. A door opening was the only access to the outside world in simple buildings and this would also be so when the original room was later surrounded by a wall to create a courtyard. To begin with doors were a single leaf set in strong frame, both door and frame usually being of teak. This timber did not occur naturally in Qatar and was imported from East Africa or the Indian sub-continent.

The design of doors and their doorways differed all over the Qatar peninsula dependent upon where their manufacture or craftsmen originated. The first photograph is of a simple door detail on a development in the desert in the north of the peninsula. It is impossible to say which of them were manufactured within the peninsula but it would be reasonable to assume some were made to fit a local door, but many are likely to have originated elsewhere either within or outside the peninsula. Whatever their origin many show definite signs of connections to other parts of the world particularly, as in this lower example, with the hinterland of Saudi Arabia. This is a detail of the decoration over a wicket door, the ’enf being the post on the left of the photograph, the architrave beading being on the right.

Compare the single door above on a house in the north of the peninsula, with this pair in Rayyan. It is apparent that they are not new but are likely to have been constructed at the most, thirty or so years years ago. The whole doorway is relatively simply designed and in its simplicity is likely to have been considered as a functional doorway rather than one for display. The ’enf has been design similarly and has two small details, not shown here, to refine its head and foot, again a common treatment to this type of door. Some thought has gone into the design of the carved feature that forms the architrave for the two farkhat al bab that are a feature of both doors, with each head piece having a pair of small shoulder features added. The most elaborate element of the doorway is its outer timber frame which has a running design carved into it comprising three or four simple designs on recessed planes with a rope moulding masking the junction with the plaster frame. In this, the framing of the doorway is the most complex of the wooden elements, but it is matched by its relationship with the traditional naqsh running motif which is found all over the peninsula. It is an attractively designed pair of doors, built for display rather than solely for function.

This photograph shows a detail of a new pair of large doors on a building near the Rumaillah fort. The building is a pastiche in the fortified style and I imagine that this door has been designed to match. It is not a Qatari style, however, neither in the design of the three finials rising above and out of the architraves to the farkhat al bab, nor in the treatment of the running design and the top of the ’enf.

This pair of doors, or darwaazah, is situated in Wakra and represents a normal, functional arrangement for a large scale domestic complex. The building in which they are located was probably built around the nineteen-sixties from the style of its architecture, so I assume that the doors are contemporary with it. They appear to have lasted well and are likely to have been constructed with pintle hinges as is witnessed by the detail of the pairs of vertical baazur added at the hinge end of the two leafs in order to fix the doors to the vertical pintle timber. The doors have not dropped with time which suggests they were well made. There is a small amount of wear shown by the timber architrave to the farkhat al bab, a common feature of these doors due to their constant daily use. The detailing of the ’enf is simple with only a small amount of carving at its centre point. The architrave at the top of the farkhat al bab has a simple version of the decorative detail that is commonly used in this position.

Here is an interesting pair of old doors that appear to be used in a different opening from their original location, though there is the possibility that there might have been an overpanel allowing ventilation as was often the case. But the reason this pair of doors is shown here is for their decoration. This cursive form of carved timber decoration is not uncommon on old doors. What is uncommon is the manner in which the elements have been put together to form an attractive frame. There is no attempt to make a panel for the carvings; they are applied directly to the panelled door. The origins of the decorative elements appears to be the Arabian hinterland.

This is a similar decorative timber element to those shown above. Carved from a piece of teak the item is about 220mm long and was fixed to another door with wrought iron nails. Although it is shown here horizontal, it was pinned in place vertically. There is a similarity to it with the decorations on the door shown above, and there might be thought to be the hint of a date palm in the form of the carving.

With time a double door evolved with two relatively narrow leaves closing on a large central post, ’enf, or nose, attached to one of the leaves. This photograph shows a number of their simple, different designs. A wicket gate, farkhat al bab developed, normally within the right hand door which made entrance through it more difficult and, presumably, made it more easy to defend. The central door post was highly decorated with two or three-dimensional carved patterns, and was a feature of the house. On the best examples there was also considerable carving of wooden architraves, sherbala around the door, as at Wakra. Although the designs are carved deep and have a three-dimensional quality to them, they are essentially based on two-dimensional designs.

Generally speaking, doorways in the Qatar peninsula tended to be rectangular, sometimes with curvilinear decoration within it. This photograph, illustrating the most extreme form of decoration of this sort, was taken in the ruined town of Wakra many years ago. Not only has the decoration a form unusual to the peninsula, being more associated with the Arabian hinterland or even the Indian sub-continent, but the decoration narrows at its lower level, the running pattern being extremely typical of Qatar decorative naqsh that can be seen in many parts of Qatar. It is worth remembering that Qatar had the richest architecture of any of the settlements in the peninsula.

Near the centre of Doha’s old suq is this door shown below which, in 2007, I believe is in the process of being restored. Here I have illustrated it in order to concentrate on the details I think are important.

The first things to notice are the size and proportions of the door. They are large and reflect the importance of the development in which they are located. I have to admit that I can’t recall exactly the building it served, but believe I remember it as being on the west edge of the suq. My guess is that it was one of the commercial properties or, more accurately, a building owned by one of the major traders in the suq. The staining on the door tends to support this. Although the door and its doorway are large, the door is not decorated and appears to be designed for function rather than being status driven. This is particularly noticeable with regard to the ’enf which is totally, and rather unusually, undecorated. However, the plastered setting for the door is decorated, but not as you might expect. The arch with its two- and three-dimensional carving is relatively traditional for the Gulf, though has a larger scale than is normally found. The columns, however, are very different owing their origin apparently to Egypt with their lotus leaf design which is rather crudely executed.

In the construction over the door there are two more details which are worth noting. Firstly, there is the standard ventilation solution above the door where the opening is protected by wrought iron bars set in the teak frame and, secondly, the later incorporation of an electric light to illuminate the entrance. This is likely to have been added as late as the nineteen-seventies.

I must apologise for the quality of these next five black and white photographs. Recently I discovered in my files a photocopy of an old article in Arabic dealing with traditional Qatari doors. These photographs were taken of the photocopies so do not have the quality of most of the other photographs on the site. However, I thought they are worth placing here for record purposes as some, if not all, of the doors no longer exist.

This first photograph illustrates only too accurately the condition of many buildings in the peninsula by the late nineteen-sixties and early seventies. I am not sure where the photograph was taken but believe it likely to have been Wakra or perhaps Doha. Note the length of the steel bolt which is considerably longer than usual. Being unable to see the other leaf, it is not clear why this would be so as the throw of the bolt needs only to be around 150mm to 200mm in order to secure a door through the ’enf of the adjacent leaf.

The next photograph shows a large door with a strong ’enf that uses a pair of steel or wrought iron bolts instead of the earlier traditional wooden bolt, suggesting it to be a later door than that in the third photograph. The unusual feature of this door is the double bolt system, presumably added for additional security, both bolts being secured to hasps by padlocks that appear to be missing, a suggestion that this is part of an abandoned building.

Here you can see a good example of a mazlaaj on an old pair of doors. A little more is written about them below. There is a beautiful carved ’enf in the centre with a handle on each leaf through which the wooden qifl runs. These traditional locks were not completely secure as may be imagined, so it is no surprising that with the availability of steel rods, the opportunity was taken to use them as bolts together with commercial padlocks. It is interesting to see that the owner of the door did not take the old mazlaaj away when he installed the steel bolt and hasps.

This photograph illustrates a beautiful traditional doorway with its darwaazah. Again, I am not able to say where it was but I believe it is most likely to have been in the central area of Doha. The doors show signs of heavy use which suggests this may be the entrance to a property belonging to a merchant as I note that a small ramp has been added to the steps to facilitate wheeled barrows being moved through the doorway.

The scale of the doorway is majestic and suggests that a craftsman would have been responsible for its construction. The setting of the door has been given importance by its framing which is set on a pair of attached semi-circular columns, presumably constructed of hajaraat or faroush and juss as would be the rest of the wall. The attached columns rest on simple bases with no capitals at their heads. The over panel frame is simple, but what sets this design apart from many other doors is the semi-circular ventilation opening above the door with its fan design which appears to have been constructed with wrought iron or steel rods.

There is one odd element in the design of this doorway and that is the mirzam whose shadow can just be glimpsed at the top left of the photograph, and which is placed to create something of a nuisance to those using the doorway when it rains.

The darwaazah themselves are relatively simple. The small number of vertical planks suggest quality with the misaamir creating their usual impression of strength. However, the doors are obviously old as they are out of alignment, the left hand leaf having dropped around 75mm. It is probable that the pintle hinges have worn down as it is possible to see that steel or wrought iron strap hinges have been added to the bottom of both the door leafs. The ’enf is simply carved with this simplicity mirrored in the detailing around the farkhat al bab or wicket door. Note the detailing of the head of the ’enf shown in the photograph below.

The architraves around the door frame are finished with a combination of scalloped and chevron detailing as can be seen in this lower detail. Finally, note the vertical pairs of misaamir that have been added at the hinge side of the door leafs in order to strengthen the fixing of the planks of the door to the supporting vertical timber pintle hinge – illustrated below – on the inside of the door, a functional requirements that creates an attractive decorative embellishment on the external face of the door.

This design feature can be seen all over the country, not just in urban settlements where you might expect it in dense housing separated only by relatively narrow sikkat, but also in relatively loosely situated desert locations. Here is the entrance to a residential compound built, I would guess, in the late nineteen forties or fifties, and which shows a similar ventilation grille about the main entrance door.

Incidentally there are a couple of clues to the suggestion that the compound is now lived in by expatriates. In the upper photograph both doors are open and, in addition, the boundary wall is unfinished. In the lower photograph, the pink and green tiles are unusual both in colour and in their application adjacent to three rather fine perforated naqsh panels. The heavy details of the porch entrance to the compound are typical of Doha architecture of the late nineteen forties or fifties.

The point to make here is the simplicity of detailing that characterises Qatari design generally and the ’enf in particular. In Qatar the carving is nearly always two-dimensional in conception and rarely has cursive designs in it. This is different from similar design in States such as Dubai and, certainly, the Oman. In the centre of this photograph is the exception that proves the rule for two-dimensional design where there is a definite attempt to give depth to the design by stepping back. A possible reason for this might have been the need to maintain the structural integrity of the ’enf that would be compromised by too much material being removed.

Doors were constructed from thick teak vertical planks fixed from the outer face to three horizontal teak cross pieces. The fixing was effected with dome headed, wrought iron nails – mismaar hadeed, usually 150mm to 200mm long and two to each vertical plank, the ends bent over and hammered down to prevent their loosening. They are remarkably strong and I can confirm from experience how difficult they can be to dislodge. The combination of wrought iron and teak make an extremely coherent construction.

The door was normally suspended on pintel hinges, raha which were of a scale and character strong enough to match the materials from which the door and frame were made. The top and bottom of the end vertical plank was extended to form the pintel. The ends of the raha were either let into stones at head and foot or, later, into wrought iron sockets built into the walls.

Around doors and windows there was normally a timber architrave, about 75-100mm deep, masking the junction of door frame and wall. The usual way of detailing the architrave seems not to have taken account of local design traditions. This example shows a running semi-circular motif at the outside edge with a repeated triangular section in the centre of the architrave. On the face of it there seems to be no hint of the character of detailing to be seen either on the door or, more suprisingly, the ’enf of Qatari buildings. Compare this photograph with the those of ’enf above to see the difference.

It appears that the architrave above was a relatively common design, at least in its outside scalloped detailing. In this photograph you can see a very similarly detailed design though the scallops are larger in scale, and there is a simpler design behind it. The junction of the horizontal and vertical architraves is poorly made which is surprising as this was obviously a relatively expensive piece of work. Between the naqsh wall finish and the architrave is a carved rope moulding which adds to the attractive finish of the doorway.

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Locks

Unusual to Western experience, doors are locked from the outside only. The external bolt, mazlaaj, for the door was a simple form derived from the ancient locks of Egypt, and contains the lock, qifl. The key, miftah, was a bent piece of timber having between four and six iron nails in it which corresponded in length to wooden tumblers within the hasp which constrained the movable bolt. Inserting the key in the opening in the top of the bolt enabled the owner to lever the wooden tumblers upwards, so permitting the bolt to be slid backwards or forwards. The photo shows the front of a door with the handle, lock and ’enf. The twentieth century saw the introduction of steel and brass hasps and padlocks which did away with the need for the cumbersome traditional bolt and its large key. This modern form of bolt is known as a seekh and the bolt and padlock would have been used when metal became more affordable.

Although I wrote that external doors were locked from the outside with what was, at the time, a relatively substantial and secure latch, there was often a latch or bolt on the inside of the door to provide a minimal amount of security. As you can see from this photograph, it is very simple in design though would have provided a certain degree of security from anybody attempting to force the door. Bear in mind that these doors are made of teak and have extremely strong wrought iron nails binding the timber elements together.

As you can see from this photograph and the photograph accompanying the next paragraph, the ends of the wrought iron nails are bent over and hammered back against the ledge, a procedure that significantly strengthens the construction of the door. These wrought iron nails are incredibly tough and take a considerable effort to remove when there is access from the back of the door; they are almost impossible to removed from the front due to their dome-headed detailing. Their fabrication creates a very rough shank which adds to their strength in fixing timbers together as well as inhibiting their easy removal. The technique of turning their ends over isn’t new, in fact it is not common to just the Gulf or Arab world. The lower photograph is a detail of a seventeenth century door to a castle at Hay-on-Wye in England showing the same technique used to secure a hardwood door – most probably oak – to its supporting diagonal frame construction.

As I mentioned above, sometimes latches were provided on the inside of external doors in order to provide safety for residents. This photo was taken in the Doha wind tower building and is unusual in that it was fitted on the inside of the door, rather than on the outside as was customary. This is a much stronger locking device than that shown above and perhaps reflects a different degree of wealth or status. Although this door may be original, it looks to me to be in too good condition. Note that the wrought iron nails are long enough to be taken right through the timber and turned over on the inside. The other thing to note in this photo is that the internal side of the door appears to be finished with a varnish rather than being oiled as teak should be. Compare it in colour and texture with the door above.

The reconstruction work in Qatar is producing a number of interesting works. This door illustrates many factors that can be found in these projects, both accurate and novel. These main doors are traditionally known as darwaazah and come with and without the smaller farkhat al bab, or wicket gate, in them. Although the door looks authentic it differs in many respects from traditional doors in Qatar. The running relief decoration doesn’t look as if it comes from Qatar, the decorated nail heads are unusual – they are usually made from hollow dome-headed wrought iron nails, baazur – the doors are hung on brass hinges rather than being fixed on pintel hinges as was always the case and, in the case of this door, there is a frame at the edge, unlike traditional doors. Hinging the doors in this way seems to expose them to easier attack whereas, with pintel hinges, the door is relatively safe from attack at the sides, the edges of the door being set behind the frame.

In addition to this, doors of this size would usually have a farkhat al bab in them in order to reduce the need to open large doors. Having criticised the doors for their accuracy I have to admit I rather like them. Obviously it is difficult to make new doors exactly like old doors, but I think these doors would have benefited from a little more attention to traditional detailing.

However, the doors do illustrate accurately the traditional qifl arrangement; as I’ve noted elsewhere, traditional doors are locked from the outside, the large wooden key being taken by the man of the house, the family remaining safely inside.

It’s good to see that the old traditions are continuing, not just with prestigious sets of doors as are illustrated above, but also with more commonplace doors as are illustrated in these two photographs. The first pair of doors appear to be constructed of a timber other than teak, and are hung on strap hinges fixed to the outside of the door. This is not particularly safe as external straps are available to attack from the outside. But there is an ’enf to protect the junction of the doors, and the bolt replicates in its arrangement and relationship with the ’enf, the traditional wooden bolt on the prestigious door. Security is maintained with a modern padlock, a much safer system than the traditional system illustrated above. The weakness of the door lies both in the strap hinges as well as the strength of the ’enf, but the development of a traditional door in this way is to be commended.

The second door is a more up-market version of that above it with the bolt and its fixings appearing to be fabricated especially for this door. Not only is the door made from teak, it has been supplied with the traditional ’enf and, unusually, brass baazur. These are obviously used for effect as they are nowhere as strong as the traditional wrought iron baazur. The only design issue letting down the appearance of the door, apart from the modern padlock, is the lack of traditional decoration on the enf, an element that could be readily amended and one that is a very important feature of traditional doors.

This pair of doors illustrates the character of new reconstruction work. The door is of teak with a regular group of patterned carvings on the panels of the doors, as well as architraves and a highly decorated ’enf. The misaamir appear to be of brass rather than in the traditional, and more secure, wrought iron. The interesting point to note is the one that now governs the design and incorporation of the qifl in the door. Traditionally, as illustrated above, the wooden mazlaaj was relatively insecure in today’s terms. The introduction of a seekh made of nahaas or hadeed certainly improved security, but introduced the issue that faces those who rehabilitate, reconstruct or build in a traditional style – the extent to which they should be guided by historical fact and, in this case, how far back they should go to find exemplars on which to base their new work. The probability is that most doors constructed today in traditional forms will take the seekh rather than a mazlaaj in order to provide the higher degree of security now required. But to the extent to which the modern padlock is now the correct interpretation is debatable.

Before leaving the subject of doors, there is one more point I should make. This relates to something I’m sure I have seen in Qatar, but have no photograph to illustrate it. This photograph was taken in Yazd, Iran and illustrates an arrangement where there is only a single door to a house or property. The doors to such a house are likely to be provided with two different knockers designed to make distinctively different sounds. The purpose is to distinguish between male and female visitors to the house, ensuring that the appropriate male or female occupant would open the door in order to maintain proper social segregation.

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Pintle hinges

The pintle hinge is one of the main features of traditional Qatari doors and would have been in use over centuries in the peninsula, if not in the Gulf, for at least three reasons. It is a relatively simple solution to the problem of swinging heavy doors securely and, in many ways, it performs better than modern hinges. The pintle hinge

• represents a relatively simple solution in the development of hinges to doors,
• a metal alternative would have been expensive to manufacture and,
• detailed properly, it is a very secure solution to the operation of doors.

Where metal was a luxury and even good quality timber expensive, it was important to spend limited resources carefully. Perhaps the chief uses would be protection from the elements, and security, though not necessarily in that order.

The most important timber elements were front doors which were preferably made from teak brought in from east Africa, together with mangrove poles for roofs. Smaller timber elements were used for windows and these elements were re-used from building to building rather than being provided new to suit new developments.

Main doors were constructed of vertical teak planks held together by hollow, dome-headed wrought iron nails driven through, usually, four horizontal timbers on the inside of the door. Generally doors are constructed in a manner which stops them sagging from the weight of the timber. This is effected by using horizontal ledges and diagonal bracing to which the sheathing or vertical planking is fixed. In the case of Qatari doors there usually is no diagonal bracing, the structural integrity being gained solely through the rigidity gained through the use of wrought iron nails.

At the edge of the door, next to the jamb, a strong vertical timber, longer than the height of the door is rounded at each end and let into both the ground and the head construction over the doorway. This is the pintle hinge. There is obviously some friction between the teak and the juss and stone construction, but this is amply countered by the heavy weight of the door. The weight of the door is taken by the pintle hinge bearing directly on the ground, which is an extremely effective way of dealing with the heavy construction.

On the outside of the doorway there is a heavy timber frame, nearly always of teak, and usually carved with a running decorative motif. Although I have not shown it on this sketch, there is often a decorated piece of timber hiding the junction of the timber door frame with the rendered finish of the opening. This architrave is usually decorated with a running geometrical design. Nearly all the Qatari frames I’ve seen have three-dimensional geometric patterns carved into them rather than the more floral ones I’ve that might be seen elsewhere in the Gulf. In the accompanying upper sketch, made from the inside of the doorway, I have shown the external frame planted on the head of the door opening and, in the lower sketch a view of the manner in which the top of the pintle is set into a hole in the head of the doorway.

Often on the jamb of the door, there is a reveal in the masonry construction to provide additional protective security to the edge of the door and its pintle hinge. The size of this rebate is governed to some extent by the stones used to make the walls, bearing in mind that the stones will be of irregular size and bonded with juss mortar.

The manner in which doors are provided is interesting as, in opening inwards, they are not as capable of resisting frontal attack as would be an outward opening door. These doors rely on their heavy timbers and internal bars to produce security against this type of attack. I think I may have already mentioned it, but it will bear repeating here, but doors and windows tend to last longer than some of the buildings into which they are fixed and tend to be re-used as buildings develop or are built anew. As a consequence doors and windows can be considerably older than the buildings in which they are situated.

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Window protection

Although this first illustration is small, it gives an indication of the manner in which windows were located and some of the issues that had to be dealt with in their design and construction. With the development of the formal majlis within the courtyard, windows were usually provided only to the outside world protected both by vertical wrought iron bars, hadid ash shubeck and with internally opening wooden shutters, dhafaqat.

The shutters usually incorporated a decorative ’enf, similar to but smaller than that of the main door and with only a small amount of carving, perhaps due to their size. The lower sketch illustrates the manner in which the shutter closed against the window leaving the top of the window open, allowing ventilation.

Windows were recognised to present an obvious potential source of weakness, so it was the custom to construct the window frame with vertical legs projecting 100-150mm lower than the bottom horizontal window frame, and to embed these in the stone and juss construction of the wall opening structure. This was carried out before the final juss finish was applied.

I don’t recall how the fixings were made to the vertical elements of the window frame to the wall, but believe them to have been nailed through with wrought iron nails into the wall. This part of the construction was obviously potentially weak as the frame and its hadid ash shubeck would have given a strong purchase to anybody attempting to remove them by pulling them out.

Traditionally, window cills were located relatively near the floor, usually at between 150mm and 300mm. The reason for this was that it was the custom of the inhabitants to sit on the floor as they met and talked over the matters of the day. There was also a functional requirement to have at least a small upstand in order to have a setting for the dowaashek and masaanid on which which people respectively sat on and reclined against. Views out would normally be obtained by sitting at that level as the head of the windows is always well below the normal eye level of a man standing.

Even when glass became more readily available houseowners rarely incorporated it as the windows’ main rationale was to permit ventilation. Having said that it was also the custom to have a wooden shutter inside the iron bars, providing security and privacy. In the more developed houses it is sometimes possible to see a small overpanel of coloured glasses set in a teak frame within the overall window opening.