The mansion that cheated time
REFLECTING WITH MASTER OF MASTER MANSIONS Each week Marie-Lais looks out for the unusual, the unique, the downright quirky or just something or someone we might have had no idea about, even though we live here. We like to travel our own cities and their
Asecret rooftop temple; a long-ceased, hushed hat-making business; a mansion that time missed more than once: through these spaces we are led by a man who is full of grace: Harshad Bikha.
We plod up seven floors. He is the only one to arrive at the top not at all breathless and he is 77. Gail, Heather and I are breathing hard when we look down from the back of Master Mansions that once housed the Bikhas and Mistry cousin generations on different floors. Removals, following the Group Areas Act, just missed Master Mansions, probably because its stand was on the border of Fordsburg and the city.
Mr Bikha knocks, opens a door to what was once a roof garden but is now the caretaker’s flat. To the right of the bed are two chairs pushed against a wooden door in a wall that protrudes into the apartment in an interesting fashion. A few months ago what lay on the other side was revealed after a decade of being closed, locked away. When the chairs are moved, we’re asked to remove our shoes.
I’m in the tiniest temple I’ve ever seen, before a golden altar. The hexagonal structure was built by Harshad’s father, the man who took the title Mr Master from his father, in turn. For a time, it stood alone under its bell-shaped dome atop Master Mansions, his building. The walls feature late-deco fan-shapes in ’40s plaster. Some tinsel glows in light filtering through a sprigged cloth at the window, which still holds a statue of Devion, her earthly cow. We are afraid to try a light switch dangling at the altar. In the softness, Mr Bikha talks about milk libation and pure communication.
The entrance to Mabro Hats is sealed from the Master Mansions side and we get there via the next building. Sepia light lies over piles of wooden and metal hat shapes or blocks.
Shelves remain laden with sateens, felt, buckram, laces, lush old ribbons on spools, veiling, cherries and artificial flower sprays. Mabro Hats were made by the Master Brothers, hence the name.
Heather puts out a hand and touches a satin beret, the only completed hat here. It looks extraordinarily as though it were destined for her. Mr Bikha will take no payment for that reason.
An illustrated Mabro Hats poster reads “March with Time”. An artbook, Master Mansions