Shaiva monuments of Pattadakal : The Making of a Book
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There are projects that arrive through a formal brief. And then there are projects that arrive as an invitation into someone's life.This was one of them.
One afternoon, we received a call from Manish.
"Would you be interested in designing a book on the Shaiva monuments of Pattadakal, documented by the Filliozats?"
Sindhu and I looked at each other. There wasn't much to discuss.
How could we possibly say no?
Pattadakal is one of the most significant sites in the evolution of Indian temple architecture—a place where the architectural traditions of northern and southern India meet, experiment, and mature. It is today recognised as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, celebrated for its remarkable group of 7th–8th century temples.
And then there were the Filliozats.
Dr. Pierre-Sylvain Filliozat, the French Indologist and Sanskrit scholar, had spent more than six decades studying Sanskrit, Shaiva traditions, epigraphy, and Indian temple architecture. His wife, Dr. Vasundhara Kavali Filliozat, an art historian and epigraphist from Karnataka, had dedicated her life's work to documenting the archaeology, inscriptions, and architectural history of Karnataka's temples. Together, they have authored numerous books that have become indispensable references for scholars across the world.
For us, the opportunity was never about designing another book.
It was an opportunity to meet two people whose work had quietly shaped the understanding of Indian temple architecture for generations.
A house filled with scholarship
A few days later, we drove from Bangalore to Mysuru. The pace of the city changed almost immediately. The broad tree-lined roads, the quiet neighborhoods, and the unhurried rhythm of Mysuru felt very different from Bangalore's restless traffic.
Their home stood on a peaceful street, not far from the house once occupied by the legendary writer R. K. Narayan. We walked through a small front garden and waited on the verandah, surrounded by photographs that hinted at decades of shared work and travel.
Soon, Dr. Vasundharaji welcomed us with remarkable warmth.
Within minutes, the nervousness disappeared.Pierre joined us shortly afterwards. Frail in appearance, yet smiling with unmistakable gentleness, he invited us into his study.For anyone interested in Indian history, it felt like entering a treasure house.Books lined every wall. Manuscripts rested in neat stacks. Temple drawings, photographs, notes, inscriptions, correspondence—every surface seemed to hold decades of patient observation.This was not simply a personal library. It was a lifetime of scholarship.
Documentation as design
Pierre began opening folders. Photograph after photograph. Drawing after drawing. Cross-references. Measurements. Captions. Catalogues. The sheer scale of the documentation was overwhelming.
Every sculpture had been identified. Every architectural member classified. Every inscription referenced. Every image carefully connected to text.
As we turned the pages, something slowly became evident.
The book had already been designed. Not visually. But intellectually.
Its structure had emerged naturally from years of research.The project consisted of two complementary volumes. One volume contained the visual documentation—the photographs, architectural details, sculptures, and references. The second contained the scholarly descriptions, historical notes, iconographic observations, and architectural analysis. Researchers would keep both books open simultaneously—reading from one while locating the corresponding visual evidence in the other.
It was an elegant solution. Not invented by designers. Discovered through scholarship. For us, the responsibility became very clear. Our role was not to reinterpret decades of research. Our role was to respect it.
Stories over lunch
After our discussions, Vasundhara insisted that we join her for lunch.
Conversation drifted naturally from temples to travel, from scholarship to family.
She showed us an old black-and-white photograph of herself and Pierre taken many decades earlier. There was something deeply moving about it. Not simply because it captured two young researchers.
But because it revealed two people completely absorbed in a shared purpose. She spoke about growing up in North Karnataka, studying in France, and meeting Pierre while working under his father, the renowned Indologist Jean Filliozat, whose pioneering work laid important foundations for French scholarship on India and who established the French Institute of Indology in Pondicherry. From that meeting grew not only a marriage, but decades of collaborative scholarship. Listening to those stories, we realized that the book before us was not simply about Pattadakal. It was also about two lives spent patiently documenting India's architectural heritage.
Designing with restraint
Back in our studio, we approached the project with unusual restraint. The documentation already possessed its own clarity. Intervening too much would only diminish it. Our contribution focused on making the work easier to use. We strengthened the grid system to improve navigation through dense scholarly material.
Image references were integrated more carefully within the text, allowing readers to move effortlessly between the descriptive volume and the photographic volume. Typography, spacing, hierarchy, and page rhythm were refined to support long hours of reading and comparison. The ambition was not to create a visually expressive book. It was to create an invisible design—one that quietly helps scholarship reveal itself.
When we presented the first layouts, Pierre and Vasundhara immediately understood the approach. Their response was generous. There was very little to change.
An unexpected farewell
While the book was being completed, heartbreaking news arrived Pierre passed away in France. The project suddenly acquired a different meaning.
What had begun as another publication became, unknowingly, one of his final works. After returning from France, Vasundhara resumed the project with extraordinary strength and grace. Supported by Manish's determination to see the work completed, the book slowly found its way to publication. Looking back, we often think about that first meeting in Mysuru.The books.The conversations. The laughter over lunch.The photograph of two young scholars beginning a lifelong journey.
More than a design project
As designers, we often speak about typography, layouts, grids, and production.
This project reminded us that sometimes design asks for something different.
Sometimes it asks for humility. To recognize when the greatest act of design is not adding another idea, but carefully preserving someone else's.
The Shaiva Monuments at Pattadakal is, for us, far more than a published book.
It is a quiet tribute to two remarkable scholars whose work has helped generations understand Indian temple architecture with greater depth and precision.
We remain deeply grateful to Dr. Pierre-Sylvain Filliozat, Dr. Vasundharaji Kavali Filliozat, and Manish for inviting us into that journey.
Some books document monuments. This one also documents a lifetime of devotion—to scholarship, to India, and to each other.
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