Number 11 — RIGHTEOUS

Geoffrey Bawa is often credited as the father of tropical Modernism, a design language that reconciled the clean lines of international Modernism with the lush, unpredictable landscapes of Sri Lanka. Across a career spanning decades, his work dissolved the boundaries between architecture and nature, allowing gardens, courtyards and changing light to become active participants in the experience of a building.

The street elevation to 33rd Lane, a quiet cul-de-sac. Timber latticework sliding garage doors sit below a reclaimed open balustrade opening, which supplies ventilationHarry Crowder

Tucked away within a quiet Colombo laneway sits Number 11, Bawa's former home and one of the most personal expressions of his architectural philosophy. Beginning with a modest bungalow purchased in 1958, Bawa gradually acquired and incorporated neighbouring properties over the following decade, transforming them into a residence unlike anything else in the city. The result is a labyrinth of courtyards, terraces and interconnected rooms that blur the distinction between inside and outside.

The hall was originally a side passage leading to three terraced houses, which Bawa bought one by one until he had the whole block. The chair in the foreground is a re-creation by Bawa of Mies’s ‘Barcelona’ chair from a period (the 1960s) when European designs were very difficult to import into Sri Lanka. Its cover is a textile by Barbara Sansoni whose name, ‘Jak and Ebony’, refers to two of the most commonly used timbers in the nation’s furniture. The wall hanging just above is by Indian designer Ritten MazumdarHarry Crowder

The roots of a tree threaten to outgrow a well bringing light into the entrance hallHarry Crowder

Nature is never treated as something viewed from a distance. Trees emerge through openings in the architecture, courtyards become extensions of interior rooms, and carefully framed views draw the eye from one space into another. Throughout the house, influences from both East and West coexist comfortably. Mid-century European furniture sits alongside Sri Lankan craftsmanship, creating interiors that feel simultaneously international and deeply rooted in place.

On a raised lightbox at the far end of the room, one screened by bamboo and cotton shades, an Eames ‘Giant House of Cards’, released in 1953, sits on a speaker. This faces an Eero Saarinen ‘Tulip’ chair, side table and stool perched on the shag-pile rug. The mismatched curved-arm antique armchairs are part of Bawa’s collection of colonial furnitureHarry Crowder

Contrasting with the floor’s white epoxy, one long wall of the living room is dominated by a Balinese wall hanging, which is threatened by the heating climateHarry Crowder

The view from the dining room into a rear courtyard. The mature trees now take up much of the outdoor spaces. The stuffed toy on the chair at left was in fact a status symbol: only aristocrats had access to themHarry Crowder

Yet Number 11 is more than an architectural experiment. It was Bawa's home for over three decades, a place where he lived, worked and refined ideas that would shape some of South Asia's most significant buildings. Every room reveals a carefully curated collection of furniture, artworks and objects gathered throughout his life, reflecting a worldview shaped by travel, cultural exchange and an enduring appreciation for beauty.

In this waiting area inside the garage hangs a work by Belgian artist Saskia Pintelon. A one-time resident of the Cinnamon Hill rooms at Lunuganga, she paid part of her rent to Bawa in paintings. The looped metal in the foreground is the backrest of a prototype chair Bawa designed for the lobby of his Kandalama hotelHarry Crowder

Beyond its architectural significance, the house offers a glimpse into Bawa himself. While much of his work celebrated openness and the seamless integration of landscape and structure, Number 11 also provided refuge from the political turbulence that unfolded beyond its walls. Within its courtyards and shaded rooms, architecture became a vehicle for calm, contemplation and escape.

On the second-floor roof terrace, the glass block tower in the background contains a lift shaft added in later life after Bawa had two strokes. The original view, over the Colombo skyline to the sea, has since been blocked by buildingsHarry Crowder

Today, Number 11 remains one of the clearest expressions of Bawa's legacy. It is a house that feels both inwardly reflective and outward-looking, where architecture, nature and daily life exist in quiet equilibrium. More than two decades after his death, it continues to demonstrate the enduring power of thoughtful design to shape not only how we live, but how we see the world.