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In two earlier articles readers were introduced to the Khatris of Kachchh district in Gujarat, western India. The first article described the history and development of their traditional vocation -block-printing and dyeing textiles - while the second discussed their experiences following the destruction of the Gujarat earthquake of January 2001. This article describes some of the technical processes of block-printing and the use of natural dyes. It features ajrakh, a resist-dyed cloth, colored predominantly red and blue with madder and indigo that is printed on both sides of the fabric. AJRAKH The origins of the term ajrakh remain unclear. The explanation favored by many scholars is that it derives from azrak, the Arabic for 'blue', and this would seem likely considering its indigo hue. Ajrakh is the traditional male attire of the maldharis, the Muslim animal herders of Kachchh. Highly prized for its enduring colour, it is attributed with protective properties against the district's harsh climate and is customarily given to a groom at the time of marriage. Traditionally ajrakh was printed on hand-woven cotton (khadi) made on pit looms by the Vankars (weavers). Due to the narrow width of khadi, the practice developed of joining two pieces of fabric together to make: a serviceable garment. The elaborate geometric and floral designs of ajrakh were further embellished by an embroidered centre seam, often worked in an interlacing stitch known as machi kantho (fish-bone stitch) by the women. Nowadays, the use of broad width mill cloth from the industrial belt of Gujarat has negated the need for joining the fabric, and a two-piece ajrakh is increasingly rare. Indeed, the local use of true ajrakh is in steep decline as ersatz versions - industrially printed on polyester - have taken over the home market. At about eighty rupees per piece, polyester ajrakh is a tenth of the price of the traditional cloth and it is this more than anything else that has eroded the Khatris' market. Previously, ajrakh was made throughout Kachchh, in parts of Rajasthan and Sindh province, Pakistan. The number of families still making it in Kachchh has dwindled to just two: there is a parallel decline in Rajasthan. Of the two families in Kachchh, only that of the late Mohammad Siddik at Dhamadka and Ajrakhpur still adheres to the lengthy procedure of dyeing and printing the cloth with natural colors. There is a healthy interest in block-prints and ajrakh from overseas and eighty percent of their goods are exported.

The Process

Ajrakh consists of a central design panel contained by a series of borders with a border across. the width of the fabric at each end. Mohammad Siddik's sons - Abdul Razzak, Ismail and Abdul Jabbar - have a working vocabulary of fifteen to twenty-two different ajrakh designs. 'In old times there were more' (Ismail Mohammad Khatri, 10.1.01). The process of printing and dyeing ajrakh has between fourteen and sixteen different stages, uses twenty or so different wooden printing blocks, and takes up to three weeks to complete, depending on the season.Prior to dyeing and printing, the cotton cloth is torn by hand into lengths suitable for use either as a garment or as a bed-spread. This is known as vetaranu. The cloth is then desized by washing it in a mixture of camel dung, soda ash, castor oil and water, after which it is left overnight folded in a sack (saj), weighted down with stones. The following day it is washed in a solution of soda ash, followed by vigorous rinsing in water (atpani). After calendering, the cloth is washed in myrobalan solution which is a pre-mordant, 'It opens the cloth to the colour' (Abdul Jabbar Khatri, 10.12.03). This stage is known as kasanu, Following kasanu, the cloth is laid flat to dry in the sun. Once the cloth is dry, the myrobalan powder is rubbed away. The cloth is then ready for the first stage of printing which is the resist of lime and gum (rekh). These areas will be white or pale in the final design. Both sides of the cloth are printed. The next stage is printing the fine black outlines (cut). This involves the use of a mordant or metallic salt that enables the colour to bond with the cotton fibers in this case the mordant is iron acetate. Iron paste is made by mixing pieces of rusting iron with water, chickpea flour and jaggery (raw cane sugar). The mixture is covered and stored, often in a recycled oil drum - and is left to ferment for a week or ten days. The resulting iron acetate solution is strained through a cloth and then boiled to reduce it to a consistency suitable for printing. Cut is followed by the first stage of printing the red areas of the design for which alum is used as the mordant. The areas of fine patterning are printed with a mixture made from alum and tamarind seed powder (kan). Larger areas of red are then printed with a mixture of alum, red clay and millet flour (gachh) and sprinkled with saw-dust for protection while the paste dries. As alum is virtually colorless, the Khatris add a little fugitive colour to the paste so that the printers can see where to align the blocks. The full red colour will only be evident once the cloth has under-gone boiling in the red dye bath. After gachh, the cloth is dried flat in the sun and should, ideally, be left for seven days to allow a good colour to develop. Following this, the cloth is dyed in indigo for the first time (bordav), after which it is washed in plain water (vichharna). The next stage is boiling in either alizarin (synthetic) or madder root powder (rang), both of which are red dyes. Again the cloth is laid flat to dry in the sun and it is at this stage that the full ajrakh design becomes evident. Traditionally, the whole process would then be repeated to produce the depth of colour expected by maldhari customers. These cloths are known as minakari, meaning 'double work', referring perhaps to the repeated process of printing and dyeing, and the fact that the cloths are printed on both sides. The origins of the term are Persian, and it is also applied to enameled gold jewellery in Gujarat.

Conclusion The widespread availability of synthetic fabrics, fruits of the drive to industrialize that followed Indian independence, seriously threatened the continuance of ajrakh printing and the use of natural dyes. Mercifully, there is growing interest around the world in this most complex of fabrics and the international market for ajrakh and other block-prints is buoyant. 'My father once said that ajrakh looked like stars shining in a night sky' (Ismail Khatri, 18.10.03). Long may it shine. Acknowledgements My thanks to Abdul Jabbar Khatri for his contribution during the preparation of this article. First published in Textile Forum, 1/2004 March

Issue #10, 2023 ISSN: 2581- 9410 By the end of the Pleistocene period (roughly 2.5 million years ago to 10,000 BC) historical references state that some of our ancestors had started using various kinds of traps, nets and snares for hunting.[1] These could have been of leather, hair, roots or natural fibres. This was also the period when man started settling down to practice agriculture. During this period, humans started using grass and wood to make their shelters in the form of tents or huts, particularly in the tropics and subtropics. Different kinds of fibres may have been discovered during this period. Flex, linen and hemp are believed to be the earliest cellulose plant fibres used for spinning and weaving for production of textiles and have been found across various excavated historical sites in India, China and Egypt. These were followed by cotton and silk (4500 BC to 2640 BC).[2] In Europe, the Swiss Lake Dwellers cultivated flax and wove linen into fabrics as early as 8000 BC.[3] These facts ascertain that people had the skill to extract fibre from plants at the very beginning of settled life. Apart from textiles, man used various fibres available from the local vegetation for agricultural use, housing, transportation and hunting. The wandering tribes moving across the forests and deserts also relied on material available in their immediate environment. For example the Rathwa Bhil Adivasi in eastern Gujarat still use Toddy Palm tree (Borassus flabellifer) leaf stalks to make twisted cords and strings for their hutments. Gond Adivasi in Madhya Pradesh use the roots of the Kesula (Butea monosperma) tree to extract fine fibre for tying their crop harvest like wheat and tendu leaf bundles, while the snake-charmer Kalbelia nomadic community in the desert of western Rajasthan use Akara (Calotropis procera)[4] plant stem fibre to make knotted sacks called Guna for carrying their clothes, quilts, utensils and babies on donkey back. The agriculturists in the same region use the Akara fibre for making slings called ‘Taant’ to make a whip cracking sound to frighten away birds eating their ripened crops. This is a most traditional and humane way of protecting the fields without harming any creature. The location featured in this article is ethno-geographically called Dhat and falls in parts of Barmer and Jallore, i.e. western districts of Rajasthan, and in neighbouring Pakistan. Akara grows on sand dunes, barren lands as well as on the semi-arid cultivated land. Locally in Dhati language the plant is called Akwala (deriving its name from Akara or Aak). Akara yields fine filaments of fibrous silky cotton from its ripe flower pods, which has various uses in the Tropics ranging from stuffing pillows to making skull caps. It is a natural cellulosic stem fibre and is said to have high tensile and abrasive strength, but is not preferred for textiles due to its heavier weight than cotton fibres[5] or wool. Akara has a small staple length, high percentage of small uneven fibres and is difficult to twist making it unfit for fine spinning of yarn. But a few research experiments have indicated that a good quality cloth could be prepared from Akara yarn if its evenness and fineness could be improved. Chemical experiments to improve the percentage of fibre recovered have resulted in success but industrial production has never been attempted. Appropriate technology could be used to improve the cleaning and beating of the fibre to make a more efficient and cost effective production method that could be scaled up. It should be noted that rope making in these regions of India is a gender specific job and the entire process from beginning to end is done by men. Like Akara, various grasses and shrubs are also used for making sturdy ropes meant for drawing water or making thatched huts in Rajasthan but, Akara is the preferred fibre because it is soft and freely available in abundance throughout the year. The fresh leaves of this plant serve as fodder for goats and camels in the desert, while the stems are used for making the underlying frame structure of the thatched huts and also serve as a source of fuel for cooking food. References to the toxicity of the plant in western sources are misleading. People have associated deserts with scarcity, but here people have found sustainability with available material in their surroundings. People value this plant highly and there are particular seasons and cycles when it is cut, collected, stored and used. For extraction of the Akara fibre, the selection of plants is an important criterion - only 6-8 month old stems are used. Thin, smooth, straight and node-less stems are cut just before the monsoon (May-June) leaving the main stalk of the plant intact.[6] The cutting of the Akara plants before the monsoon also heralds the time for ploughing of the fields and sowing of millet and pulses. These sticks are then stored carefully on raised ground without touching the sand to save them from termite attack during the monsoon when air moisture content is high. In Rajasthan there is also the danger of locust attacks in which case the Akara leaves and soft outer stems are eaten killing the plants. Unlike other places (like in Indonesia) where the stem fibre from this plant is separated by retting, in the desert this method cannot be applied due to the scarcity of water. Thus the plant is cut, collected and stored before the monsoon to allow rainfall on it. Each stem could be 15 feet long depending on the growth of the plant. The scanty rain drops of the desert loosen the fibre from the stem of Akara which is then removed in layers by peeling it from the outer surface of the stem. To remove the fibre the stem is broken from the thicker end to get access to the strands. These strands are peeled off carefully by further breaking the stem into portions of 9-12 inches successively. One to three feet length strands are collected depending on the quality of the stems. These strands break wherever there are leaf joints or nodes on the stem. Thus the stem has to be broken to pick up the strands again and again. The peeled strands are collected, fastened together, twisted and doubled to form a hank (Goti) and then beaten with a wooden stick by placing it over a wooden plank to remove the dirt and loose material. It is then opened and shaken to loosen the dirt. This process of making the hank and beating it is done two to three times which finally yields a softer fibre nearing to cotton quality. The colour also changes from greyish to white. The fibre is then spun clockwise into yarn with the help of a basic wooden tool called Dheri (spindle) made of Kumatiya tree (Senegalia senegal) wood. The yarn is then double plied to form a loose cord. It is dipped in water in a pot and left for one to two days (at least 24 Hrs.). Water absorbs all the alkalinity and dissolves the lignin in the fibre. It is then taken out and washed thoroughly for further removal of the finer dirt. This makes it very soft. It is dried and the second round of spinning takes place with the spindle which produces a strong cord. On completion the cord it is held up in one hand and squeezed inside a cotton cloth by the other using one directional strokes. This abrasive action of the cloth makes it further smooth and shiny removing any traces of dust or extra fibre left on it. It could be further plied to make a rope but generally two ply cords are used for general purposes. Akwala cord is mainly used for making cots (charpai)[7] and ropes for cattle by the villagers. A cot made of Akwala can last for 40 years if taken care of properly and repaired regularly whenever the cord breaks.[8] Unlike plastic it doesn’t become brittle when exposed to the sun and heat of the desert. People in the desert still prefer to use traditional fibres obtained from plants like Akara, Seeniya (Cassia augustiflora), Kheemp (Leptadenia pyrotechnica) and grasses which grow in the surroundings. Recently they have also started using cords made out of recycled cloth shreds which come from textile industries in Balotra, Pali and Jodhpur. It is an interesting fact, however, that people in the desert still prefer Akara cords and ropes for their household use due to its durability over plastic and jute. The raw material is freely available in the surroundings, thus it costs nothing. This is the most popular fibre of the desert due to its cotton like quality unlike any other natural fibres available locally. With investment and research into improving the processes the production of Akara fibre could provide livelihoods. With changing attitudes to gender specific jobs daughters and wives could be involved in collecting and other processes thus improving the lives of both men and women in the Dhat regions and in keeping alive a sustainable but dying craft. Akara has hope for the desert and also the environment.


Illustration of Akara Plant by Waseem. © Kaner collection	Sack made by the nomadic Kalbelia community used for keeping quilts and household items. The cord has been dyed with natural red ochre. Barmer, Rajasthan.


	Cot made with Akara stem cord dyed in red.

Process of fibre extraction and spinning of the yarn and cord.

Process of extraction of Akara yarn and preparation of plied cord out of it. Demonstrated by Mahesh Singh Rathore, village Agenshah-ki-Dhani, Barmer, Rajasthan.
1 Cutting side branches of the Akara plant 2 Collection of the useful stems 3-5 Peeling of the fibre strands 6. Collected fibre 7 Hank of the loose fibre 8 Beating the fibre with wooden stump 9 Cleaning the fibre by loosening and opening	10 Spinning of yarn 11 Double plying the yarn 12 Spinning of cord 13 Hank of double ply cord 14 Washing of the cord 15 Spinning of the washed cord 16 Rubbing and squeezing the cord with cloth piece 17 Bundle (deriya) of Ankara cord

[1] R.P. Mitra, Prehistoric Population of India, Symposium on People of India, Ed. P.C. Joshi, Department of Anthropology, University of Delhi, 2015, pg. 8. [2] Britannica, The Editors of Encyclopaedia. "natural fibre". Encyclopedia Britannica, 22 May. 2020, https://www.britannica.com/topic/natural-fiber. Accessed 1 June 2023. [3] Charles H. Fisher, History of Natural Fibers, Journal of Macromolecular Science: Part A - Chemistry, 15:7, 1981, 1345-1375, DOI: 10.1080/00222338108056788 [4] There is another species of the Akara plant called Safed Akara (Calotropis gigantea) which is worshipped and has a religious importance for being associated with Shiva and is thus not used for fibre extraction. [5] Somnath Maji, Rajesh Mehrotra and Sandhya Mehrotra, “Extraction of high quality cellulose from the stem of Calotropis procera”, South Asian Journal of Experimental Biology, Vol.3, Issue 3, Page 113-118, 2013, Gurgaon. [6] If the plant is not trimmed for 4-5 years then it dies naturally due to termite attack. Otherwise, it keeps sprouting when trimmed annually. The main stem is left intact, while the side branches (Tani) are cut. On an average only 5-10% sticks of the whole Akara plant are useful for extracting the fibre. The thicker sticks are not useful for fibre extraction, though can be used for firewood. [7] Around 6 Kg. of Akwala cord is required for making a cot of 6x2.5 feet. Sheep wool could also be used but it takes more effort in spinning compared to Akwala. [8] Sometimes gnawed and cut by rodents.

Globally, women and men are learning to bridge social, cultural and economic divides to find ways for their communities to survive and be sustainable. In Asia, Africa, Latin America and elsewhere, local economies are being strengthened through development of community enterprises. As a consequence, livelihoods and local cultural practices are being transformed. This article is based on research in Thailand, in which I investigated different approaches and common concerns of community organizations that work with rural artisans to ensure economic and cultural survival. The article profiles the role of the Northeastern Handicraft and Women’s Development Network (NWD) in encouraging and facilitating community businesses among women who are weavers in rural Northeast Thailand.Global economic forces have increased the number of people living in poverty and undermined traditional ways of life and livelihoods in rural villages of Northeast Thailand. A crisis of social, cultural and environmental degradation has prompted a search for solutions at the local level. Solutions, emerging in rural areas, are shaping alternative models of development by drawing on the resilience of the people and the relevance of their traditional skills and knowledge. The Northeastern Handicraft and Women’s Development Network plays a significant role in facilitating this process in Thailand. In the context of rural Thailand, alternative entrepreneurship is a socio-economic strategy of organizing, educating and empowering people to work collectively at the village level to strengthen their capacities to create sustainable livelihoods in their own communities. In particular, rural women weavers are learning to work together to build organizations that serve their needs and concerns for income and social security, health, safety and environmental protection. As a means of employment, alternative entrepreneurship promotes collective responsibility and involvement in management and marketing. As a forum for integrating new knowledge with local wisdom, alternative entrepreneurship fosters appropriate technology and environmentally sustainable practices. And as a counterforce to the devaluation of traditional rural ways of life, alternative enterprises are people’s organizations concerned with preserving cultural heritage. My purpose in this article is to focus on a number of the complex issues involved in creating and sustaining artisan enterprises in rural Thailand. RURAL ECONOMY AND THE CRAFTS SECTOR Globalization and the 1997 Asian economic crisis have profoundly affected the lives of millions in Asia. Poverty is severe in rural Thailand, especially in the North and Northeast regions, where people did not benefit from Thailand’s economic boom years. Rather, they became victims of environmental destruction, industrialization, marginalization and displacement as a direct result of the dominant development model promoted in the West and embraced by the Thai government in the 1970s, 80s and early 90s (Laird, 2000). Among the rural poor are artisans, many of whom are moving away from traditional livelihoods. Lack of access to raw materials and to markets, exploitation by middlemen, low prices for long hours of work, and the devaluing of rural ways of life, keep wages at poverty level and undermine the sustainability of artisan communities. In rural Northeast Thailand, known as Isaan, the majority of people are farmers who grow glutinous and white rice, cassava, sugar cane, maize, fruits, vegetables and jute. The region is considered the poorest in the country because of extreme temperatures, poor soil, and alternating droughts and floods. Despite harsh conditions, in the past Isaan farmers were able to adapt to their environment and they were self-reliant as a family unit, producing all their basic needs. Isaan women, known to be industrious, did household chores, worked in fields during planting and harvesting, cultivated cotton and mulberry plants, made household wares from clay and wove cotton and silk cloth. The women worked so their brothers could go to school, become monks or pursue higher education in cities. As self-reliant agriculture and ways of life have disappeared, rural debt in Thailand has soared (estimated at 100 billion baht or $4 billion US). Nearly every household needs money to buy rice, other food, medicine, household goods and clothes, most of which come from outside the village. Farmers borrow from the agriculture bank for items such as fertilizer and small tractors. Each year they try to earn a living from farm labour and grow enough to make a profit but the price for agricultural products is very low and they can’t cut the cycle of debt. After the four months of agricultural season men used to go outside the village to look for work in construction, in factories or as taxi drivers. However, since 1997, there has been no more work in construction or factories. Women stay home and do sub-contract homework, sometimes sewing school uniforms. But the wages are very low. Up to 85% of Isaan villagers earn less than they need to survive. (WAYANG, 1995, pp. 21-23) The crafts sector is a significant arena of rural non-farm employment, but it is largely neglected in national policies and development agendas. Increasingly, different levels of government and institutions such as the ILO recognize the importance of women’s home-basedwork in rural areas and their needs for education and training (Saeng-Ging, 2000). Craft activity fits the category of home-based work and for many women it is a primary source of income that contributes to the economic viability of their families and communities. Craft - redefined as an economic and development activity - has great potential to become a means of sustainable livelihood, particularly among women in rural areas who can use their traditional skills to become wage earners, manage small businesses, and take on leadership roles in their communities. Weaving has traditionally been a significant activity for Thai women. Weaving is part of the indigenous or local "science and technology" developed and handed down by women through generations. In traditional Isaan society, both the weaving process itself and the cloth produced were integral to their social, cultural and economic life. From birth to death, from individual to family to community, from secular to religious rites, woven materials were used (Conway, 1992). For Isaan women, weaving was not only a household duty; it was a way of gaining respect in this life and spiritual merit in the next. With the destruction of village ways of life, traditional weaving lost much of its importance and value and disappeared in some areas. This situation began to change, however, with the work of NGOs in the region that encouraged rural villagers to value their local knowledge and cultural heritage. Women began to organize themselves to participate in decision-making and contribute to community development. And traditional weaving became revitalized in the context of community enterprise development. Now, women use income from weaving to pay for their children to go to school and also to help relieve the family’s agricultural debt.

NORTHEASTERN HANDICRAFT AND WOMEN'S DEVELOPMENT NETWORK

The Northeastern Handicraft and Women’s Development Network (NWD) was established in 1991 as a working committee under the NGO Coordinating Committee on Rural Development of the Northeast. The objectives were to: campaign on the importance of women's development among NGOs in the Northeast; establish a sustainable economic and marketing base for the Network; upgrade the knowledge, capacity and potential of rural women in the Northeast; and, promote the establishment of social services at the community level (NWD). Since its inception, NWD worked in areas of women’s health, education, and empowerment. Four founding member NGOs focused on handicraft development, drawing on the traditional weaving skills of village women to help preserve the crafts of the region. During 1994-5, NWD provided management and business skills training to support the development of community enterprises that were owned and run by the village weaving groups. By the year 2000, NWD represented thirty member organizations working with three thousand families in eight provinces of the Northeast. Twelve of the thirty member organizations are involved with natural resource management, sustainable agriculture, women’s rights and women’s homework; eighteen focus on handicraft and business development. Currently, the ILO and HomeNet, an international network of home-based workers, support NWD. (Saeng-Ging, 2000). The director of NWD is Suntharee Saeng-Ging, a community activist and administrator with a political science degree from University in Bangkok. Suntharee moved to the Northeast in 1990 to do community work in a village 100 km. from Khon Kaen. She worked many years helping women in the community to organize and start a local weaving group. In May 2000, I recorded a conversation with Suntharee at the Mae Ying Handicraft Shop in Khon Kaen where the NWD office is located. Following are issues that arose during our conversation, issues that concern NWD and the women involved in the weaving groups.

WEAVING GROUPS

Panmai and Prae Pan are two highly active member organizations of NWD. They are large well- established weaving groups, known for their high quality woven products that sell in Bangkok and abroad. Panmai traces its origins to the 1985 initiative of the Appropriate Technology Association of Thailand, called the Local Weaving Development Project. Women’s lack of education, economic status, access to resources, and decision-making power were the impetus to develop a network of small businesses to work towards empowerment of rural women. In early stages of developing “alternative entrepreneurship” both Panmai and Prae Pan received strong support from NGOs for developing women’s leadership and managerial skills, as well as design training and contacting markets WAYANG, 1995). Other NWD member organizations are much smaller weaving groups that do not have the benefit of NGO support and funding for training and marketing. It takes almost ten years to establish a viable organization in the villages where the aim is to have the group work cooperatively. Rather than having weavers sell their work individually, prices are set and the work is sold as a group. Large groups that receive external funding can pay weavers for their work before it is sold. The weavers receive their wages monthly. For example, in Panmai and Prae Pan every piece that reaches a standard of quality set by the group is purchased from the weaver, and then the organization tries to sell the woven products. In contrast, small groups without funding cannot pay the weavers until the group sells the products. This often takes a long time or the goods may not sell at all and the weavers are not paid. The inability to pay outright for the weaving has a negative impact on the small groups and many of them have had to stop the weaving.

NATURAL RESOURCES AND ENVIRONMENTAL CHANGE

The availability of good quality raw materials for craft production is an essential ingredient of artisan enterprises. The transformation of cotton and silk fibres into thread, which occurs at an early stage of the production chain, is a precursor to the weaving process. Hand spinning is labour intensive, but factory produced thread is often imported. In addition, alternative enterprises, concerned about environmental impacts and eco-friendly products need to consider where and in what manner the cotton is grown and the silk reared. While the lives of Isaan women were traditionally interwoven with the art of silkworm rearing and local agriculture produced cotton fibre, recent economic and environmental factors impinge on access to raw materials and decisions about local production of thread. In the early 1990s, when the weaving groups were selling their products well, the weavers stopped producing silk and cotton thread themselves because they wanted to use their time for weaving instead of spinning. At first they bought thread from neighbours, then from local markets, and then from Laos and China even though they knew the quality of the thread they bought was very different from the quality they could make themselves. Now, they do not know, and they are concerned about, whether the imported cotton is organic, or whether pesticides, insecticides, or genetically modified seeds have been used in growing the cotton. Climate change and environmental degradation have increased the difficulties of growing cotton locally, raising silkworms and growing indigo, a traditional dye plant. The availability of water and quality of the soil has deteriorated to the extent that farmers cannot grow enough cotton to produce enough thread to be used in weaving. Only 10% of the cotton thread used in the Northeast comes from the farmers’ fields. Indigo, a plant traditionally used in the dyeing cotton and silk threads, is very sensitive to climatic conditions and the area conducive to growing indigo has become very limited. Indigo grows well in forest shade and needs a lot of rain at a particular stage of growth. However, forests have diminished, the climate is too hot and dry, and the rains come at unusual times. Indigo is sometimes grown in rice fields after the rice harvest when there is rain. But if the rain comes too early or there is too much rain the indigo plants die. NWD has started to encourage weavers to produce their own thread again. Even though growing and spinning cotton, looking after silkworms, and growing indigo each involves difficult time- consuming processes, and it is almost ten years since the women stopped producing cotton and silk thread, the weavers are beginning to agree that they need to produce the thread themselves once again. They realize they cannot control the price or quality of imported cotton and silk thread. The cost of cotton thread keeps rising and the weavers cannot always get good quality. However, Suntharee said, it will be a difficult slow transition for weavers to return to producing their own thread. If they have the choice, they would rather weave; they can earn more money from weaving than from spinning.

Environment and Health Protection

Many NWD member organizations focus on weaving and business development, but an objective of the Network is to raise awareness through seminars and other activities about a range of issues that impact the lives of women. Panmai and Prae Pan, for example, began by developing the weaving groups, but when they became strong enough, NWD encouraged them to think about how to conserve their local environment. They tell the weavers that they must look after the environment or else they will no longer be able to do natural dyeing or grow cotton in the future. In the past, weavers used natural dyes from the bark, leaves or fruit of different plants. Their methods for achieving yellows, browns, blues, greens, reds and black were perfected and handed down through generations to give a distinctive character to Isaan fabrics. But natural dyeing takes a long time and hard work and many weavers changed to chemical dyes. These are easier to use, but they create pollution and health problems. Especially in dyeing silk, a variety of toxic chemicals are used to produce a shine or to whiten certain threads in a resist dye process. The chemical toxicity pollutes the land and water close to the women’s homes. How to solve the pollution problems of chemical dyeing is a key issue being raised by the weaving groups. When dyes are brought into the villages, there is no information about how to use them or how to protect dyers from the dangers of using these chemicals. Suntharee said that the dyes come in plastic bags that only say, “This is for shiny”, or, “This is for washing colour”. Dyers get serious nose and eye problems from working with the chemicals, which smell bad and make the eyes sting and run. Even the weavers who use the chemical-dyed threads put a cloth over their faces and wear eyeglasses to protect their lungs and eyes. As well as looking for ways to introduce non-toxic chemical dye colours, NWD has a program to train home workers about the dangers of toxic chemicals used in their work. NWD worked with the Health Ministry and the ILO to prepare a training program to teach about health risks, safety and protection in the use of chemicals. They have prepared a handbook that can be used in other groups that have not received this training.

Education and Training in Product Development

NGOs within the Network worked many years on the social and political issues of organizing women’s groups. When they began to establish community businesses, they faced problems related to a lack of expertise in business management. Over a ten-year period they solved many problems by acquiring experience and skills in management and administration. Currently, NGOs have a lack of knowledge about product design and marketing and they want consultants in product development to help the weaving groups. Although many design consultants work with private enterprises, there are only two or three in Thailand who work with NGOs on product design and marketing. Sometimes specialists from the university or business sector in Khon Kaen provide design training. Somyot Sapupornhemint, based in Bangkok, is an active consultant with NGOs. One of the original people who worked on establishing the Handicraft Centre in Northeast Thailand, Somyot is an advocate for organic farming and the preservation of craft skills in Thailand. He has written a handbook on product development, pricing and marketing for Thai NGOs and he gives workshops and advice to weavers groups, including cotton spinning and natural dyeing with indigo. Weaving groups need training in fabric design and colour and also tailoring, sewing and finishing. Value is added to their work when they make cloth into skirts and shirts and it is easier to sell products, such as, bedspreads, tablecloths and place mats rather than lengths of fabric. However, it is very difficult for the weaving groups to learn about modern urban lifestyles in order to design and make appropriate products. They do not know, for example, the size of the bed or the proportions of pillows for the urban market. Suntharee said they have to learn the right size to make things such as skirts and scarves, to avoid the problem of making something that is “too small to be a shawl, too big to be a scarf.” In addition, the groups cannot follow fashion design and colour trends because these change too quickly. There is too much for them to learn all at once. Marketing Since the 1997 economic crisis in Asia all the weaving groups have suffered from a drop in sales. This has been harder for the smaller groups than for Panmai and Prae Pan. However, each weaving organization is concerned about finding ways to improve their products and increase their access to markets. In the last few years NWD has initiated discussions among the weaving groups about the need to raise the quality of their products. They have also discussed how to make their products “more organic” because they know that more consumers in the world are becoming concerned about the environment. NWD is trying to reach a very specific market – people who understand social and environmental concerns and want to buy natural products. In general, cotton is sold more readily than silk, which is more difficult and costly to make in good quality. However, few Thai buy natural dyed products; they like bright colours that come from chemical dyes. NWD tries to increase consumer awareness of the environmental and health risks associated with chemical dyeing by disseminating information through newspapers, magazines or exhibitions. The younger generation, mainly university students, has a better understanding of these issues but their income is low, which means they cannot support the groups by buying NWD products. Marketing is a key issue for the weaving groups and it is especially difficult for small groups that do not have external funding to support training in product development and marketing. NWD has offered training programs to help member organizations with marketing and, since 1997, NWD has operated the Mae Ying Handicraft Shop in Khon Kaen where woven products are for sale and business management workshops are offered. However, the three years since they opened the shop have been the years of the economic crisis and a decrease in sales. NWD also tries to organize exhibitions for the weaving groups. Many times each year NWD sends their colleagues and products to Bangkok where there are more people who understand and support the work of rural community enterprises. Sometimes the Thai government or NGOs organize trade fairs or seminars and NWD participates. For example, in 1999 the Australian Embassy organized an exhibition for NGOs that they support and members of NWD went to Bangkok for the exhibition. However, taking part in this event was expensive, and NWD did not make enough money to cover the costs. A small number of the NWD weaving organizations, including Panmai and Prae Pan, participate in Thai Craft Fairs in Bangkok, which draw a large number of urban Thai, ex-patriots and foreigners. More than sixty craft producer groups from all regions of Thailand are represented at each ThaiCraft Fair. However, it is difficult for the smaller member organizations of NWD to go to ThaiCraft Fairs. First of all, ThaiCraft has a high standard for quality. Secondly, NWD cannot contact or participate in ThaiCraft on behalf of the weavers groups since ThaiCraft asks the groups to contact them directly. And thirdly, ThaiCraft wants members of the groups to come to Bangkok to sell their crafts themselves rather than send their products. However, going to Bangkok is more expensive than sending their goods and so only the large groups can take their products to ThaiCraft and make a profit. The large groups, such as Panmai and Prae Pan have overseas customers through the work of NGOs who contact Fair Trade Organizations. However, sales through Fair Trade Organizations are low because the woven products don’t change often enough. Some weaving groups have made the same designs for ten years and customers who bought items previously want to buy something new. Fair Trade Organizations ask for new designs but the weaving groups are not able to change their products quickly. It takes a long time to come up with original design ideas, communicate with the weavers about the new products, and make enough to supply the market. Strengthening the Network HomeNet , initiated in 1995 with the support of the ILO Rural Home Workers Project, has played an important role in campaigning internationally for policies that give security of work, wages or welfare to home-based workers. These are new issues in Thailand where there is no law to protect home workers. In 1998, HomeNet Thailand was set up as an NGO to coordinate a network of 89 home-based workers organizations in the North, Northeast and Bangkok municipality (Saen-Ging, 2000). The main funding for NWD - 50% from ILO and 50% from HomeNet - covers the costs of administration, building rental, electricity and telephone, and salaries for the director and a secretary. There is no ongoing financial support for programs for the weaving groups; the ILO funds only activities for home workers in the sub-contracting system. When groups in the Network ask for help to improve the quality of their products, for example, NWD tries to provide design training for both small and large groups. And every time they plan a training session, NWD has to make funding proposals to different organizations. If they receive the funding they can give a workshop, if not, they have to wait. Otherwise NWD has to ask the people to pay and only the large groups can pay. One sponsor for NWD training programs has been the Canada Fund, operated by the Canadian Embassy in Bangkok, which has a focus on women and has supported many NGO programs in Northeast Thailand. NWD is doing research on home workers in the seventeen provinces of the Northeast region to gain information about what kind of work they do. With support from the Science ministry, they are also conducting a survey of handicraft groups to find out about community-based techniques used in handicraft processes, group management and marketing. They are also inquiring about the problems craft groups have. NWD hopes that the government will use the information from this survey and make plans to support people to deal with problems of funding, designing and marketing, NWD encourages women to participate on committees in village and district organizations. Suntharee said that it is not enough for women to become strong in their own weaving groups; women have to share and participate at other decision-making levels. If they want to receive funds to support weaving they have to go through the decision making process in the district organizations. If the women are happy only to be in the local women’s group, and they don’t share and participate in the other organizations, they cannot reach the government funding. “So nearly all of our women are realizing they have to learn more and participate in higher levels of the network, not only the weaving groups.” Summary Reflection NWD works on a wide range of issues that impact women by providing a forum for discussion and initiatives for their support. In this article I have focused on issues that concern the weaving groups in particular, which are challenged to develop skills in management, ideas for design and product development and relevant strategies for marketing. Critical issues confronting the weavers also include the state of the local environment, availability of raw materials and risks from toxic chemicals. To address any of these concerns requires access to information, training and education. The development of community enterprises that utilize women’s traditional skills and aesthetics of weaving is not only providing income for families in the Northeast but also strengthening women’s confidence in their ability to learn and contribute to their communities. However, external funding for training and marketing support is needed to continue to establish a base for sustainable livelihoods within the existing weaving groups and within other village groups that want to join the Network. It is a sad irony that rural women who have been marginalized by the impact of the Western macro-economic development model require the financial support of national and international agencies and organizations that previously neglected them. Artisan enterprises are part of the informal economy, a sector of the globalizing economy that is rapidly expanding as a major source of employment, particularly for women in developing countries. For example, nearly 75% of manufacturing work in Southeast Asia is within the informal sector where women are home-based workers in the garment and electronic industries. As globalization has led to increased inequality within and between countries, a global movement has emerged in the past two decades to promote better programmes, policy and research in support of income and social security for women workers in the informal sector. The work of Self-Employed Women’s Association (SEWA), founded 1972 in India, has been an impetus for recent international networks such as HomeNet, an international federation of home- based workers, and WEIGO -- Women in Informal Employment: Globalizing and Organizing. (WEIGO, 2001. See also Lund & Srinivas) Although there are similar concerns among workers in the informal sector, artisans have unique challenges. And the difficulty of their situation needs to be appreciated as they seek to bridge the gap between rural village ways of life and the urban global marketplace in order to sell their products. As globalization promotes cultural homogenization, artisans have an important role in protecting cultural diversity, such as the example of women weavers in Northeast Thailand who are reclaiming the value of local production of handwoven textiles that bears the mark of ages- old indigenous traditions. In addition, international alternative trading organizations and fair trade networks are promoting consumer awareness of artisan products and the search for sustainable livelihoods in rural areas. Further research into community enterprises based on artisan skills and products will bring greater insight into development alternatives that are appropriate and sustainable; there is much more to learn about how people and cultural practices in rural areas can thrive as well as survive. References Conway, S. (1992). Thai Textiles. London: British Museum Press. Laird, J. (2000). Money Politics, Globalisation, and Crisis: The Case of Thailand. Singapore: Graham Brash Pte. Ltd. Local Weaving Development Project (WAYANG). (1995). Weaving for Alternatives. Thailand: Nutcha Publishing Co. Ltd. Jongeward, C. (2001). Prae Pan: Many Kinds of Fabrics. HomeNet, No. 15, January 2001. Lund, F. and Srinivas, S. (2000). Learning from Experience: A Gendered Approach to Social Protection for Workers in the Informal Economy. Geneva: ILO NWD. Women in Northeastern Thailand and their Participation in Community and Social Development.Brochure. (No date available). Saeng-Ging, S. (2000). Experiences in Community-based Skill Development of the Northeastern Women’s Development Network (HomeNet Northeast). Paper presented at ILO/APSDEP/TESDA Skill Development Workshop on Rural Employment Promotion for Women. Manila, Philippines, May 15-19, 2000. WIEGO.(2001). Women in the Informal Economy. Brochure End Notes While researching issues of artisan organizations in Thailand, I conversed with English speaking Thai people and ex-patriots working in Thailand. This article focuses on issues of weavers’ groups in Northeast Thailand and I am grateful to those who have informed this work, including: the director of NWD; 3 Thai rural development consultants involved in organizing weavers and developing artisan enterprises, 4 Isaan women weavers/managers of Prae Pan. (For an account of Prae Pan, see also Jongeward, 2001.) The book, Weaving for Alternatives, has been an important resource. My use of the term “alternative entrepreneurship” derives from this publication, which gives voice to the staff and women weavers involved in the Local Weaving Development Project that evolved into the community enterprise known as Panmai. This article was first published in Convergence, Volume 34(1), a publication of the International Council for Adult Education.

It has now been a little over a year since I returned from India and started writing Postmark America. I remember the sensation I felt last year as fall set in and I was embraced by the warmth, tradition and spirit of autumn in America's Northeast. During this time of year people often pause to reminisce about their family and cultural traditions. They spend more time than usual decorating their houses with handmade crafts and take the time to enjoy a slower paced life.

With this in mind, I embarked on an investigation of American folk art thinking that I would come across meticulously crafted quilts and craved wooden furniture representative early America. Instead, I found a kinship of folk artists very much in tune with the contemporary world, as well as an audience eager to be engaged by these creative masters. But what surprised me most was the depth and variety of art being created and of philosophies on what makes something folk art or someone a folk artist. To start with the most traditional representation of folk art, I did a little research on the American Folk Art Museum, located in the heart of cosmopolitan America: New York. Even this stronghold of traditional folk art displays pieces that vary from the norm. Their newest permanent exhibit, Folk Art Revealed, covers a wide array of folk art that was made throughout the eighteenth, ninetieth and twentieth centuries, with even a few pieces from our current age. The exhibit revolved around four themes that are found in all pieces of folk art throughout the centuries and relate to both conventional and unconventional manners of expression. The themes of symbolism, utility, individuality and community frame this exhibit in a way that allows comparison between objects as diverse as a mid-19th century Tooth trade sign and a 20th century piece titled Les Amis, that uses Masonic and Haitian cultural symbols to express the hope of growing positive interactions between Haiti and the US. The categories also highlight that folk art, although traditionally the beautification of utilitarian items, often has a deeper impact with its social commentary and individual expression. Pieces like Jessie Telfair's "Freedom Quilt" resonate a societal issue and speak for both the artist's individual struggle as well as a battle an entire community is fighting. The quilt depicts only the word "freedom" in bold, block letters and reference Jessie's plight to register to vote as black women in the South in the 1960s. Although the American Folk Art Museum has an extensive collection of folk art, it doesn't represent the entire gamut of American creativity. Much folk art can be described as being made by self-taught artists whose creativity is expression based and often a little bizarre. Take for example Jeff D. McKissack's "The Orange Show", a handmade personal space in Houston, Texas. Built over 25 years and now maintained by a foundation dedicated to the site,"The Orange Show" is a "folk art shrine" that consists of a series of structures which coverstwo city lots. Constructed from found objects and raw material like "old wheels, ceramic tiles, various bric-a-brac and discards", the epic work pays homage to McKissack's favorite fruit: the orange. At its opening in 1979, "The Orange Show" didn't draw many visitors which some people say ultimately caused McKissack to die of a broken heart. However, the site is now managed by The Orange Show Foundation which hosts tours, workshops and educational programs focused on Houston's cultural life. Houston is also home to other oddities in American folk art like the Beer Can House, created by John Milkovisch, as well as Cleveland Turner's "The Flower Man's Garden". Although the Intent Statement for Design Education is a massive step for the progress of Indian design education and implementation there seemed to me a point that was overlooked, put aside or at least just not directly addressed. The need for practical based experience for design students hovered just below the surface of the intent statement and was never clearly stated as necessary, important or eventual. For students coming from the top institutes in India, their designs are instilled with creativity, innovation and genius but can often fail in the market due to their impracticality or distance from market demands. These amazing sites, as well as the in-depth exhibit at the American Folk Art Museum, opened my eyes to the diversity of folk art that is still alive in America. It is always reassuring to realize that the holders of our cultural heritage and the cultivators of American creativity have not been overcome modernization but rather manipulated it to their own advantage. As nations the world over deal with globalization and a loss of traditions, these artists can stand testament to the fact that creativity cannot be homogenized. More information about the American Folk Art Museum and the exhibit Folk Art Revealed can be found at http:/www.folkartmuseum.org/. To learn more about "The Orange Show" and "The Beer Can House" visit http:/www.orangeshow.org/.

The proceedings of the 1995 conference on the Tharu. The Meyer’s chapter gives an overview of Tharu wall art and architecture, with color photographs.

“Who are the Tharu, National Minority and Identity as Manifested in Housing Forms and Practices?” In Harald O. Skar, ed., Nepal: Tharu and Tarai Neighbors. (Proceedings of the 1995 Conference on the Tharu, Oslo.) Bibliotheca Himalayica, Series III, v. 16. Kathmandu: EMR, 1999.
The Myer’s documented one Tharu village’s song/dance version of the Mahabharata, last held in 1998, with a documentary video and with a translation of the song-poems into English:
The Mahabharata: Tharu Barka Naach, documentary video. Producers; director: Deependra Gauchan. A Tharu rural version of the Mahabharata, performed in 1998 by the farmers of Dang Valley, Nepal. [Available at Insight Media under “Barka Naach” http:/www.insight-media.com/IMGroupDispl.asp. ], 1999
Mahabharata: the Barka Naach, a rural folk art version told by the Dangaura Tharu people of Jalaura, Dang Valley, Nepal. Editors/publishers. A translation of the song-poems of this local Tharu interpretation of the Mahabharata. Kathmandu: Himal Press, 1999
The Meyers contributed the Nepali element to the book and museum exhibit at the University of California/Los Angeles documenting rice-related artistic uses/themes in ten Asian countries. Their work focused on the Tharu granary. This is the 540 page catalogue for the exhibit, a rich documentation in writing and photography:
“The Granary of the Tharu of Nepal.” In Roy W. Hamilton, ed., The Art of Rice: Spirit and Sustenance in Asia. The catalogue for the exhibit of the same name, to which the Meyers contributed the Nepal element. Los Angeles: UCLA Fowler Museum of Cultural History, 2003
3 articles, illustrated with photos, in Shangrila Magazine.
“Ethnic Color: People of the Eastern Tarai.” Meyer + Meyer. Article and photographs. Kathmandu: Shangri-la Magazine, Vol. 7 no. 3, 1996
“Tihar in the Tarai.” Meyer + Meyer. Article and photographs. Kathmandu: Shangri-la Magazine. Vol. 7 No. 4. , 1996
“On the Home Front: House decorations in the Tarai.” Meyer + Meyer. Article and photographs. Kathmandu: Shangrila Magazine. Vol. 7 No. 1., 1996
Tharu history. The history of the Tharu in the Tarai as revealed through the facsimiles of the original legal documents of grants from the kings of Nepal to Tharu over two and a half centuries. published in both Nepali and English versions.
The Kings of Nepal and the Tharu of the Tarai: Facsimiles of Royal Land Grant Documents issued from 1726-1971. Editors/publishers/contributors. The history of the role of the Tharu in developing Nepal’s Tarai lowlands is shown through the translation, explanation and full-color facsimile images of 50 old royal documents. Kathmandu: Rusca Press and the Center for Nepal and Asian Studies, Tribhuvan University, 2000

The harvest festival of Chherta held in the lunar month of Pus that falls in end–December is celebrated on the night of the full-moon. In Chhattisgarh women of the Rajwar agriculturalist community celebrate the event through creating Bhitti Chitras – the sculpted and painted clay relief figures. Decorating their homes for these festivities with reliefs of gods and goddesses, birds, animals, plants, trees and human forms the figures created vibrantly crowd their homes to bring the interiors and exteriors to life. Vividly painted in shades of orange, red, blue, green, yellow with the features delineated in black the reliefs are set against a stark contrasting white clay surface. From the walls of their homes, on storage spaces, doors, alcoves and additionally free standing bamboo screen structures these 3D images created are renewed each year with new figures added on. Living in mud homes the women apply a lipai/coating of wet clay mixed with cow dung on the floors and walls that is then covered with white Multani Mitti/ Fullers Earth. This forms the base of the work. While a variety of surfaces are covered, lattice bamboo fretwork structures are also constructed to form standalone artworks that are decorated with figures. The images are moulded into shape inspired by the makers’ imagination. Rice husk waste forms the base that is coated and shaped with clay before painting. The figures of birds and animals with their young often have very human expressions further adding to the spontaneity of the art created. Given the effect of time and the elements the art is constantly renewed, repainted, reformed and added on too. This Rajwar community tradition came to notice in the early 1980’s when Bharat Bhavan the arts complex opened in Bhopal under the leadership of Ashok Vajpeyi The Roopankar Museum that formed a part of the Bhavan was founded and led by the distinguished thinker, painter, poet and writer J. Swaminathan (1928 – 1994) who’s thinking on art challenged the established canon that divided the contemporary and modern from the folk and tribal. His contribution to this debate continues to inspire till today. It was Swaminathan along with students of art and others under his guidance who fanned across the the region travelling to its most remote parts to collect and documenting the folk and tribal arts. This collection formed the core of the Roopankar museum. The Bhitti Chitra tradition of the Sarguja district work thus came to the notice of the researchers from Bharat Bhavan and immediate interest was generated. It was Soonabai, a legend in her lifetime whose work had caught their eye as in her home she had created a universe of figures that she called her ‘companions.’ Some of her work was taken to Roopanker and further orders were placed. Soonabai’s travelled to Bhopal and then further afield, across India and overseas, demonstrating her art and creating artworks. Many distinctions followed and the recognition of the arts of the Rajwara community received worldwide acclaim. Today, much after the demise of Soonabai in 2007 one of the traditions foremost bearers is Sundaribai of Sirpotanga Village in Sarguja District who while from the Rajwara community belongs to a family that was traditionally engaged in restoration mud work for the local kachche makan/ mud houses in the area. As a young child she played with clay, this led her on to make pots, cups, jars and soon her clay moulded figurines developed into birds, parrots, monkeys, flowers and figures. Married at the age of 11 she continued her work. Her designs expanded to cover walls and doorways as well as standalone pieces. Practising commercially for almost 40 years now her family has followed in her footsteps - from her husband, her sister-in-law, her only son to her six grandchildren who are continuing their education while learning the finer points of the craft. Bhitti chitra today remains a vibrant tradition with the women continuing to sculpt and paint their homes during festivities. While the focus of attention is the deity – Lord Shiva and Lord Krishna among others placed within the profusion of flowers and leaves phool pati and trellis fretwork jaals that fill the background. Birds and animals – monkeys, buffalos, horses, dogs, cats and as well as human figures add to the scene. With the commercialisation of Bhitti Chitra the numbers involved have grown as can be seen in Sundaribai’s case where her whole family, including the men now are involved in the work. Showcased in museums, and exhibitions often in heights of several feet it is now has a widened clientele both nationally and internationally. With the artists now seasoned traveller whose themes have expanded to include a landscape that extends from the everyday village life to include other backdrops. SONA BAI'S WORK [gallery ids="165389,165390,165391,165392,165393"] SUNDARI BAI'S WORK [gallery ids="165394,165395,165396,165397,165398,165399"] First published in the Sunday Herald.

Kani shawls and Jamewars (yardage for robes), known for their fine pashmina wool, wonderful range of colors and intricate patterns in tapestry technique and twill weave, were once produced in Kashmir during the Mughal period. Considered unique, precious and royal, they received a special place amidst other rare textiles. The tradition of the Kani shawl journeyed to India from central Asia along with the Mughals and was influenced by local cultural mores, pushing the technique to its creative limit. By the end of the 19th century though this thriving shawl industry had gradually declined. Attempts at revival have been made but the socio-cultural conditions that had made such production possible have changed. Normal production of such exquisite pieces of such high quality is not possible anymore. The continuing tradition of darning itself becomes extremely significant in this context. The Rafoogars (darners) with their special darning skills have been responsible in keeping these exquisite pieces alive, in circulation and ensured their continued use through an interesting transformation of the product and the market.

At a Symposium on Indian Textile Traditions at the Textile Museum, Washington DC recently, I came across this sign at the entrance to the exhibition:

A Garden of Shawls: The Buta and its seeds

Welcome to the Textile Museum

We ask you not to touch the textiles on display. It is a privilege to view them outside the confines of cases and Plexiglas, a privilege we ask you to respect. Textile fibers are highly sensitive to damaging deposits of oil and dirt found on our hands. In addition, over exposure to light, heat and humidity is detrimental. As a result our galleries are cool and light levels are low. Please understand the needs of the textiles. Enjoy your visit and help us to preserve these important works of art for generations to come. Thank you.

In a flash, it brought back childhood memories of summer vacations in my grandfather’s ancestral house in Najibabad in Western Uttar Pradesh where it was a pleasure and great privilege to view, handle, touch, feel and smell these antique Kanishawls and robes brought by the Rafoogars, well known to repair and restore especially these shawls. They are also known as Shawlwale or the shawl people being in the shawl trade for many generations. Najibabad is home of several darners and hub for Kani shawl repair. Repair of these precious shawls is carried out throughout the year. The darners sit on the floors in their verandahs or in the open courtyard for sufficient daylight even in hot summer months, spread the shawls on the ground for inspection and then mend them according to the need. These pieces pass through several hands/over their knees in this intricate process of darning and restoration, before it is returned to its owner or sold to a new patron.Having spent long years of childhood there, old Kani shawls and robes were very much part of our life and held center stage amidst other crafts/ textiles from various regions of the country. The yearly ritual of airing our warm woolens after monsoon had always been a thrilling experience for us as children. Every winter we saw these exquisite shawls being pulled out of the storage with other warm clothes. They had a special storage place. Any faulty or careless storage was out of question lest mites and bugs caused damage to these priceless items, otherwise one had to inspect any destruction they had caused. However the sheer impact of age too often makes textiles fragile. Being worn and used they would inevitably require mending. No one missed a heart beat though because the shawl repairmen was a call away. When the Rafoogars visited our homes to repair the shawls they also brought along old shawls carefully wrapped in fine cottons, acquired cheap as rejects unfit for further use from earlier owners. With their skill and ability to mend and restore these priceless, tattered, discarded rags, the Rafoogars would restore, transform and renew these pieces for further sale to new patrons and collectors with expensive tastes. It was so natural then, as it is even now, to experience and admire the beauty and refined workmanship of these unique textiles Even if one could not afford to buy a shawl it was always a treat going through the bundle, mesmerized by their beauty, the intricacy and complexity of weaves and design, and of course the fine skills of the Rafoogars in repairing them. For us as children, these shawls were wonderful treasures and the men were like magicians showing one fine piece after another.

Some of them never seemed to mind or feel offended if the pieces were not always bought but liked the involvement and respected ones love, interest, and appreciation for these pieces and were happy to share with us. This interaction of generations continues to date. One always appreciated the skills of the Rafoogars whose repair of the shawls was almost invisible to the naked eye. But along with the invisible repair, they too have remained invisible to the world at large. Possibly, ’sheer invisibility’ being the hallmark of good darning! One wonders how shawls made in Kashmir reached these darners in Najibabad. Are they related to the Kashmiri darners or descendents of the seamsters or embroiderers of Kashmir who played a significant role during the original production of these shawls or their role shifted once such production stopped? Or did they master the special needlework skills of darning much later when the shawls needed maintenance, repair and renewal. We have yet to find answers to establish these links with Kashmir but the fact is that few families settled in Najibabad about 250 years ago during the reign of Najibuddaulah, a Rohilla chief from Afghanistan in mid 18th century.Foster (1793) gives us interesting details as regards the situation of Najibabad and the climate of the surrounding country. “Najibuddaulah, who built this town, saw that its situation would facilitate the commerce of Kashmir, which having been diverted from its former channel of Lahore and Delhi, by the inroads of Sicques, Maharattas and Afghans, took course through the mountains at the head of the Punjab, and was introduced into the Rohilla (country) through the Lall Dong Pass. This inducement, with the desire of establishing a mart for the Hindoos of the adjacent mountains, probably influenced the choice of this spot, which otherwise is not favourable for the site of a capital town, being low and surrounded by swampy grounds…. since the death of its founder, Najibabad had fallen from its former importance and seems now to be chiefly upheld by the languishing trade of Kashmir.” Thus, being on the trade route from Kashmir to Bengal, some Rafoogars, also in the shawl trade, migrated from Kashmir via Punjab and settled in Najibabad. One of the darners possesses a family record of nine generations, helping trace their ancestry to Timris Kala, Tabab-e-Bukhara who arrived in Najibabad via Ropar. Other families shifted here from the neighboring villages of Bijnor. An old haveli called Rafoogaran(home for rafoogars) still exists in Najibabad. An entirely male occupation, most of the darners are Sunni Muslims, who settled in Rampura and Mohalla Dharamdas. Gradually, they spread to other areas of the town and migrated to other neighboring villages like Jalalabad, Kaleri, Alipura, Mandawar, Akbarabad and bigger towns/cities like Dehradun, Mussourie, Saharanpur, Meerut, Jodhpur, Lucknow, Benaras and Delhi in search of darning work. These darners were earlier engaged in stitching cotton selvedges (kanni) on rafal and Pashmina woolen shawls manufactured in Amritsar. This led them to travel from one place to another to sell these new shawls or to repair old Pashminas, (especially Kanishawls) to eventually be involved in the Kani shawl trade. Some migrated to Pakistan during the partition in 1947 where they still work as darners in Karachi and Lahore. Today they are also employed by museums, shawl traders or work in dry-cleaning shops. The onset of winter means renewed business for the darners when they travel to towns and cities, meeting old clients and making new ones. Some visit the hill resorts in the summer but the rest of the year they are back home busily mending and assembling fragments of tattered shawls or even procure shawls from princely states or families who cannot afford to maintain them any longer. Many of the younger members in their families now opt for other professions, and therefore men from other communities have learnt the darning skill to meet the present needs in textile restoration. The darners have been the conduits of time. Their special skills have been part of our living tradition. The practice of our Indian ways of ‘use, mend and re-use’ has kept their darning skills alive and are a key factor in rescuing a number of priceless pieces textiles from further destructions or till they are well preserved in the controlled environment of any museum While the shawls of Kashmir have been elaborately and well researched, their unique weaving and fine needlework celebrated, an important role and major contribution of Rafoogars in the maintenance of these priceless shawls by highly intricate and laborious work of restoration and renewal of these pieces, practiced for generations has yet to be recognized. Though there is an urgent need to understand the complexity of their skill and practice. The continuous demand in the market has been responsible for the cutting and destroying of many of these magnificent original Long shawls and Rumals to create smaller shawls, stoles and scarves catering to the present clientele who prefer it for the size and price. With every generation, tradition evolves in order to survive. It is a challenge to preserve and continue with our inherited skills and knowledge of the past. The circulation and recycling of these shawls makes one realize their contribution in the survival of what remains of the Kani shawls today. There is a value addition to these restored priceless textiles, giving a new life to these textiles of the Past. Perhaps we need to recognize darning as an independent practice and the contribution of these darners in preservation and continuation of their inherited skills, creativity and knowledge in the survival of what remain of the Kani shawls today.

Introduction: Who I am & What I’m Doing

I came to India to learn about how the country, culture and currency of my birth are changing the rest of the world. I came to India to discover how a country three thousand years in the making could be loosing its traditional heritage to modern market forces and factory-made goods. I came to India to immerse myself in the ever evolving world of Indian arts and crafts and examine their makers’ statuses. When I applied for my Fulbright grant, now almost two years ago, I had in mind a project full of hope, of homegrown resistance to westernization; full of promise for a better life for the rural artisan with the increase of technology through rural development programs. Instead I found a few brave organizations that are working relentlessly against the odds to provide both increased income and/or cultural preservation. Among the most well known of these organizations is Seva Mandir and its craft/income generation program, Sadhna. So after spending half a year doing research on various Indian folk crafts and craft development programs in the bustling city of New Delhi, I set out for the much smaller and less hectic city of Udaipur, located in Southern Rajasthan. I was to spend the next two weeks working as a volunteer for Sadhna and discovering what goes on behind the scenes at a typical development NGO.

Background Check: What Seva Mandir and Sadhna Really Do

Dr. Mohan Singh Mehta began Seva Mandir in 1966 in an attempt to raise awareness about the “particular backwardness and political stagnation of Rajasthan.” The organization started with a campaign for literacy but soon found that a steady income and proper nutrition and health were needed before villagers could concentrate on learning how to read. In the 1970s Seva Mandir’s popularity often encouraged its village level employees to run for government offices. Unfortunately, once there, the new office holders found they had little power to change the corruption. This prompted Seva Mandir to form village groups in the 1980s. Later that decade, Village Committees were established to help distribute aid from alternative organizations for poverty alleviation. Seva Mandir began to realize that the government alone could not solve the problems facing rural Udaipur. Currently, Seva Mandir is working in 583 villages in six block districts educating villagers about natural resource management, education, health, women and child development and institution building.

The women did not see the lack of physical strain and the option of working from home as benefits that outweighed the income cut. However, the most common reason for drop-out was the shifting of villages at the time of marriage. Many of the women who worked for Sadhna had to leave their paternal village at marriage, sometimes into a village that was either too far removed from Sadhna or did not have a Seva Mandir block office in the district.

Another problem arose when Sadhna began encouraging the women to attend exhibitions on their own. Formerly, a Sadhna staff member would accompany the women to exhibitions and manage the sales and stock records. Despite Sadhna’s care to match all illiterate women with literate ones, they still had a difficult time in managing the records and sorting the stock after the exhibition was over. The Sadhna staff, however, feels that with more training and exposure the women will be successful in the future.

A Personal Look: Interview with Jaya

I had the opportunity to catch up with the newest addition to the Sadhna team during one of the above mentioned power outages. Jaya, a recent graduate from NIFT in New Delhi, joined Sadhna as their design coordinator in January of this year. However, she spent her last semester of college working on her final project for graduation at Seva Mandir. So needless to say Jaya was well acquainted with the technicalities of working for a non-profit NGO. She explained that although she was trained as a designer, most of the design work done at Sadhna was generally spontaneous because there are no regular quotas for new designs as there are in other craft design firms. However, Sadhna does occasionally work with other designers and marketing agencies in order to make their products more viable in domestic city and international markets. Sadhna has affiliations with such NGOs as Aid to Artisan in the USA and Craftsbridge in Pune. What struck me most about Jaya during our short interview was her obvious passion for the work that she does. Not only the design and craft side of Sadhna, but more importantly the income generation and poverty alleviation aspect.

Jaya is in charge of production and distribution of work. She must calculate how many pieces are to be made each year and then break that down into the number of pieces to be made each month, each week and each day. She delegates the responsibility of creating these garments, bags and home-decor items to women from 10 different areas. However daunting this task might seem, what impressed me most about Jaya’s dedication to her work was summed up when she said, “We have three hundred women who need work. Giving them work is more important than profit.” Organizing and running workshops is another of Jaya’s many tasks at Sadhna. I had the occasion of witnessing the end of one of these workshops on the first day of my internship. The workshops were organized so that the women would generate images to be used on future fabric pieces.

After the workshop the images would be passed onto designers who would modify the patterns to printing block friendly sizes. In that particular session, Jaya was trying to obtain about twenty different designs for printing blocks from each woman. This was quite a task considering the self-consciousness that the women clearly exhibited when they were handed a pencil and crayons. Jaya noted, “They said we don’t know how to use pencils, we don’t know how to draw.” So Jaya showed them images of traditional designed from a well-known book on block printing and Indian motifs. This encouraged the women who then began sketchy drawings on paper. However, some of the women broke away and started creating images with chalk on the pavement. Both Jaya and I saw right away that these images were far better than the ones on paper. The women, trained from a young age in the traditional Rajasthani art of rangoli, just felt more comfortable with the hard, unlimited surface of the ground than the small, thin and contained space provided on paper. The designs the women eventually came up with were clearly the symbolic images that are rooted in their minds from birth and passed down from one generation to another. They reflected the truest instances of Indian philosophy in their repetitive and circular motifs. They were infused with both the culture of Rajasthan and the imagination of these liberated women. By Way of a Conclusion: Morning Ragas and Rajasthani Hills On my last day in Udaipur I was fortunate enough to receive an invitation to a sunrise raga played in the landscape of the surrounding hills. As we drove out to the small shrine that was to be host to the music and prayer, the land around me seemed more full than it ever had before.

Despite the slowly eroding soil, the dying forest cover and the scarcity of water, it was the culture that truly sustained the people of that land. It was the images and songs and traditions that helped them survive the years of struggle. And it is organizations like Sadhna that see that very point and work to create an environment were craft can provide economic sustenance along with cultural nourishment.

All pictures courtesy of http/www.sevamandir.org

Crafts Council of India sponsored the article for International Natural Dye Symposium held in Hyderabad in November 2006. Most of the information presented here is based on a set of interviews and discussions carried out with various people who have been linked with ‘lac’ directly or indirectly in different parts of Kachchh, namely, traditional dyers and printers or the Khatris, weavers of the woolen textiles the Meghwals, the lac ware artisans of Nirona the Vadhas, the Dhebaria, Wagadhia and Kachchhi Rabari subgroups who were the main consumers of lac dyed textiles in Kachchh

The specific people Syamji bhai and I met to inquire about lac dyeing practices in Kachchh include: Mohammed Ismail Khatri fromAjrakpur, Umar Farooq fromBhadli, Soma Natha Rabari from Mamuara, Ali Mohammed from Chaubari, Abdul Sattar from Ajrakhpur, Yakub khatri from Kothada, Bhachaya bhai from Nirona, Pala Naga from Bhujodi. (Refer Map on the following page).The exercise of tracing the methods of lac dyeing, its applications, its availability and the communities involved, in different ways has lent greater insight and broadened the context for Shyamji bhai’s attempts towards its revival.

Kachchh has a remarkable history of the use of natural dyes, which is closely linked with the Khatris who are mainly a Muslim community of dyers in the region. They also pattern the fabric by means of resist printing or tie-dyeing, but their main skill is dyeing. One of the highly valued textiles called ‘Ajrak’ has been made here for the Maldharis or cattle herders’ communities since the time Khatris migrated from Sindh in the 16th century.¹ But apart from that there were many dyed and printed textiles patronized by the local communities in Kachchh for which the Khatris made use of various natural materials; Madder, Indigo, Harada. Turmeric, Pomegranate peels, Desi Babool and black soil, are a few of them. In addition to this lac was used for dyeing wool. The Khatris were dyers of cloth, but the expertise of yarn dyeing was a part of the weaver’s traditions. Although the latter mainly utilized natural colours of wool to pattern his fabric; he sometimes used coloured wool, which he dyed himself. Advent of synthetic dyes almost wiped out the use of natural dyes by the seventies. It only survived in a few cases where efforts were made to revive the use of natural dye skills, like Dhamadka Mohommed bhai of Dhamadka made sure the skill of using natural dyes for patterning Ajrak is passed on to his sons even though the entire production was being done in chemical dyes. With increased awareness and consequent demand from urban clients, natural dye practices for Ajrak were revived. ² Lac dyeing practice survived for a longer time than the other natural dye practices of the region due to its ease of application and availability. The Rabaris were very particular about the dark maroon colour on wool which was attained by lac. The women of the community also practiced the technique of dyeing with lac themselves and found it very convenient to use for it suited their nomadic lifestyle. It took sometime for synthetic dyes to reach them. However, it has been more than fifteen to twenty years since lac dyeing ceased to be practiced in Kachchh. Vankar Shyamji Valji has been working with lac dyeing for the past five years in the spirit of reviving its use in Bhujodi textiles. He comes from a family of traditional Meghwal weavers, also called vankars from Bhujodi in central Kachchh. His village is centrally located and lies eight kilometers east of the town of Bhuj.
The Rabaris are Hindu pastoralists in Kachchh who associate wool with Lord Krishna³. They celebrate its sacred attribute by clothing themselves in it throughout the year. Apart from its religious connotation, wool also serves as an insulator in the desert heat. The men of most communities of Kachchh wear blankets of different kinds called dhabaras or khattas.

Almost all the traditional woolen textiles of Kachchh are woven in natural sheep wool colours and used without any post loom dyeing with exceptions such as the Rabari women’s’ unstitched draped garments. Lac in conjunction with other materials and techniques was used to dye woolen textiles worn by Rabari women up to the late eighties after which it was entirely replaced by acid dyes. The women of the Rabari community can be distinguished by their use of dark coloured woolen veils called lodkis, and unstitched or draped lower garments called pernus which require post loom dyeing in shades ranging from maroon to black. The textiles woven for the women are made in natural off white sheep wool with extra weft patterning in cotton for the chheda or end piece, and a few cotton ends in the Kor or sevedge. It is interesting to see that this is done so that the cotton in kor does not take the dye that is meant for wool. Lac dye being acidic only dyes protein fibers. The use of black is common to all the three subgroups of Rabaris in Kachchh who choose to wear it as a symbol of mourning for a king who died in a war. This limitation has allowed them to explore a variety of blacks that one can see in their dressing. It is not only in the dyed woolen textiles that we see different blacks but also in the mushru⁴ and the polyester imitations bought by them for their hand stitched blouses, from what is available in the market. It reflects their sense of aesthetics along with serving as a means of group identity. The Rabaris eye for subtle nuances in colour along with a passion for pattern is reflected in their lodkis. The Rabari lodki varies from having a black ground patterned with maroon (of very subtle tone distinction) either tie-dyed or resist printed, to plain dyed maroons and blacks. Each stage in a Rabari’s life is marked by the use of specific symbols or their absence of it in her lodki. The lodki for a new bride has symbols of peacocks and scorpions in a grid as symbols of fertility; the pattern is made with maroon dots using the technique of bandhani or tie resist dyeing. The lodki worn by young women and the newly married, sport bright red dots, which are replaced as they grow older, by the dark maroon dot barely visible against the black background. The widows wear a jhimi lodki that is plain dyed brownish maroon. RABRI AND KHATRI LAC DYEING PRACTICES Although the Rabari women largely depend on the Khatris or the Muslim traditional dyers of Kachchh for the dyeing of both these unstitched woolen garments that require skill and expertise, very often they dyed their plain lodkis or pernusthemselves. Practice of dyeing their own clothes is linked with their nomadic lifestyle especially of the Dhebaria Rabaris which does not allow them to be stationed and wait for the Khatris every time they had a new lodki /font> to be dyed.

In Kachchh lac is used with tamarind (Tamarindus Indica. Linn), which provides an acidic medium required to dye wool. ⁵ Lac available in form of cakes is crushed, pounded and soaked in water for a day or two. Tamarind of equal quantity or less is soaked in water for the same time as lac. The next morning the lac solution is boiled and tamarind added to it and left for an hour on the flame. When the solution makes a particular sound they know it’s prepared (the sound is associated to that of a thick viscous fluid as seera or porridge on flame). The woolen textile is then steeped in the dye bath and left for about half an hour, finally washed and dried.

If the lac is not pounded properly it does not mix completely in water and particles are visible in the dye bath. Umar Farooq’s⁶ hundred year old mother remembers that crushed lac was first soaked in water overnight to absorb most of the water, after which it was rubbed on an uneven stone surface the next morning to get a smooth paste which would dissolve well in water. This would give a clearer dye bath. She also recalled using lime for treating the lodki before dyeing in lac as lime softens the wool and removes the impurities. Besides tamarind the Dhebaria Rabari women also added aamla (Phyllanthus Emblica & Emblica Officinalis) or Ambada/Amra (Spondias Mangifera) which made the maroon many shades darker. Making the dye bath more acidic allows more absorption of dye; the aamla in this case most likely increases the PH of the dye. Lac dyed textiles of the Dhebarias of Eastern Kachchh indicate their preference for the darker shades of lac. Rabaris would also leave the lac dyed lodki in stagnant water over night to deepen the colour. The metal salt content of the soil imparts a black to the maroon. Some believe that an appropriate place for this purpose was a cow stable. Cow dung and urine in stagnant water provides perfect condition to make the lac dyed woolen shawl black. Pounded babul (acacia) beans were sometimes added to the stagnant water, which aided in turning the lac a deeper shade of black. During our research it was found that the method of lac dyeing used by the Rabari women and the Khatris was similar. However there were many methods of getting blacks and dark browns, by using lac in combination with other materials. The technique used by the Khatris was more sophisticated than the ones used by the Rabaris or the Meghwals weavers. The latter developed indigenous ways to achieve the darkness they required.

The Khatri being traditionally skilled dyers used Indigo as a base with Lac to achieve colour close to black. The khatris usually had indigo vats in their houses as they used it all through the year. The lodki was dyed in Indigo first and then over dyed in Lac. In case of patterned lodkis first the pattern was resisted by means of tying or resist printing with mud or wax (as in the case of phulakia, figure), and steeped in Indigo vat. This was followed by opening the ties or washing off the resist, and finally dyeing the entire piece in lac. The areas that were resisted became maroon and the rest of the ground became dark brown or black with the verlapping of lac with Indigo. The blue of the Indigo was only visible in the cotton chheda and kor which did not take on the colour of lac. Similarly the woolen pernus or the lower garments which are usually darker than the lodki, would require steeping in an Indigo vat before application of lac. The kor or border on either sides of a pernu usually has six cotton ends, which would take the Indigo but resist the lac dye. The use of synthetic dyes replaced the natural Indigo and Lac but the blue of the Korremains as an essential design feature of the pernu till today. Ali Mohammed Ahmed Khatri who has shifted from Chubari to Bhuj fifteen years ago, gave us an interesting piece of information regarding the blue kor of a Pernu. He informed that the Khatris had to daub the kor locally with blue camel ink or direct dye to satisfy the specifications of the Rabaris, who continued to be particular about the blue kor. The cotton white ends in the Kor of the woolen lodki have been replaced by acrylic blue by the weavers in Adhoi where most of the lodkis are woven. This saves Khatris the trouble of daubing it blue these days.

A particular textile that Ismail Khatri of Ajrakpur remembers dyeing for the rabaris was the Dhebaria women’s dhabri, an unstitched lower garment, an example of which we found in an old quilt at Soma Nathas house in Mamuara, 20 kilometres east of Bhujodi. Old Dhebaria women can still be seen wearing it in eastern Kachchh.

The structure of a dhabri is standard and can be deciphered only by close observation. It’s cleverly done and reflects the ingenuity of its makers. Natural black sheep wool, white sheep wool and white undyed cotton are used collectively in the warp and weft to create a checked surface. The dhabri when dyed in lac imparts a maroon to the off white sheep wool.

THE MEGHWAL VANKARS AND YARN DYEING

We met Pala Naga, 80 year old man from Vadva, 12 kilometres south of Bhujodi. His family shifted to Bhujodi about twelve years ago. He is a Marwada Meghwal and has been practicing weaving for several generations as Shyamjibhai’s family. He related the entire procedure of lac dyeing to us, which he remembers using for dyeing woolen yarns about fifty years ago. He could also recall using desi babool paan or acacia leaves to prepare a black dye. The leaves are pounded and mixed with warm water and boiled together for two hours, and hirakashi is added. Hirakashi makes the solution acidic for the protein fibre to take the dye. The solution agitates when it becomes acidic. Yarn is steeped four to five times in the prepared dye bath. The proportions of the ingredients are ½ kilo desi babool leaves and six teaspoons of Hirakashi for one kilo of yarn. After having seen the use of lac for woven cloth by the Khatri dyers and the Rabaris we will discuss some old textiles in which we found lac dyeing at yarn stage by the Meghwal Vankars. This is interesting because the Meghwal vankars hardly ever did any dyeing! The technique of lac dyeing used by them was similar to those used by the Rabaris. The cotton pagadi had lac dyed desi wool as extra weft bands in the chheda. (figure) The Jaisalmera shawls have dark coloured border or kor and end piece or Chheda, for which either natural black or aapkara, or lac dyed wool was used. These days this shawl is being produced in waste wool or worsted wool brought from Bikaner.

It is some of these traditional pieces woven by the Meghwals that Shyamji bhai of Bhujodi derived his inspiration of revival of lac dyeing. Even when acid dyes came into the market, lac was continued to be used for a long time. The simultaneous usage would have been practiced in the seventies and eighties. Sometimes synthetic dyed desi wool yarns were used as accents with lac dyed yarns in the same pagadi .


Availability of lac

Among all the people we met, the Dhebaria Rabaris attributed the availability of lac to Pabu dada and even refused to believe that it is found on the trees or associated with an insect. A bhajan⁷ of the Dhebaria Rabaris talks about how ‘lac was brought to them by Pabu dada from a place called phoolwadi in Patan.’ The use of lac has been an important part of the Rabari community of Kachchh and it is not surprising to see how they see it as god’s gift to them. Lac is an insect extract obtained from the parasite insect Kerria lacca that develops a resinous cocoon around itself, which serves to incubate the eggs she lays; it is found on trees in South Asia. Maximum portion of the lac is resin and a small percentage of it is the dye pigment.⁸ It is usually gathered when it dries on the tree, by cutting the branches that also dry up as the lac insect sucks all its nutrients over the months that it thrives on it. Lac in Kachchh is found on branches of local trees like Neem (Azadirachta Indica ), Peepal (Ficus Religiosa), Desi Babul (acacia Catechu) and Ber (Zizyphus Jujuba). In Kachchh prior to the availability of the processed form of lac, it was collected in its natural form from the forests by communities such as the Kohlis.⁹ The present generations of Khatris in Kachchh remembers having bought lac in the form of cakes which refers to the processed form. It was available in the local markets of Bhuj, Mandvi and Anjar. Anjar seems to have been an important market where the Meghwal weavers and the Khatri dyers of the woolen products met up with the local traders. Anjar was also a central market for Dhebaria and Wagadia subgroups of Rabaris which are mostly spread all over eastern Kachchh. Today lac is no longer available in Anjar. The influx of synthetic dyes has completely wiped out any trace of the natural dyes that were once sold here. Ismail Khatri of Ajrakhpur recalls that Lac cakes were sold in gunnysacks in huge quantities in Anjar market when he was a child, which would be some thirty years ago. When Shyamji bhai of Bhujodi started working with Lac he found the local shop called Gandhi nu dukan which sells ayurvedic products in Bhuj, with fifteen year old stock of lac dye. It was available at Rs 120 for a kilogram. The period of availability of the processed form of lac in the market, and the places/sources from where it was brought into Kachchh is not very clear. The Khatris, Rabaris or the Vankars were not able to give us much information about the availability of lac in the local forests. This information was mainly gathered from the Vadha community who apply the resinous part of lac on turned wood as a means of livelihood. This community is believed to have come upon lac in a Rabari’s house where they found the waste (resin part of the lac) after the dye had been separated from it. They say that the Rabaris used lac for dyeing much before the Vadhas used it’s for application on wood. The Vadhas have a good eye for lac and can usually spot trees with lac formations. They also brought their own lac from the forest and separated the resin from the waste in water. The colouring matter of lac dissolves in water, but the resin being insoluble only floats on it. It was this property that the Vadhas and Rabaris used traditionally to separate the two and is still used in industrial processes. The Vadhas recall having allowed the Rabaris to use the red water for dyeing! The village where the Vadhas are settled is called Nirona and falls in ‘Makpat’ belt of Kachchh, westwards of Bhuj. The area is named for its high ‘mak’ or mist through the year and it is believed that fog accelerates the lac formation process for the insect. This area is also known for maximum availability of lac in the region. The settlement of Vadhas here should be linked with the availability of lac. Now they procure their raw material, which is available in processed form from the Gandhi shop which sells ayurvedic and natural goods in the local bazaar. The source of lac is not disclosed by the shop keepers. The Vadhas find the industrially processed lac smoother to use than what they prepare themselves. In our research we did not find any traces of lac having ever been cultivated in Kachchh. The consumption of the material to dye as told to us in the traditional methods is as much as the weight of the wool which implies a large amount. Therefore it is possible that it was brought into Kachchh as a part of larger trade. ¹⁰ Attempts towards revival of lac dyeing by Shyamji bhai and the Meghwal community of Bhujodi and his insights into his work Awareness of the increasing interest of people across the world in the philosophy of natural dyes is one of the reasons Shyamjibhai started working with natural dyes. His own observations have been that acid dyes weaken the wool fibres over a period of time. In the last ten years he has worked with Madder, Alizerine, Anar or Pomegranate peels, Haldi or Turmeric, Kathha or Catechu for yarn stage dyeing. Having discovered the use of lac in old textiles made by the weavers of Bhujodi, he felt assured of its feasibility. He had also considered working with Indigo but realized that it would mean to entail expertise and skill. He has taken a conscious decision of working with lac as he finds it closer to his tradition. He has been working on it after the 2001 earthquake. One of the important considerations he made while deciding to take up revival of lac dyeing was his cultural associations with the colour red. In Kachchh Kesariya, rato, ghudo and karo are local names for orange, red, and maroon and black respectively. If one observes by and large clothing of people in Kachchh has prominent use of red and maroon. With some yellow and green, the only exception where one sees blue is Ajrakh. The Ahirs wear a lot of bright red that is rato, the Meghwal and Maldhari skirts are usually ghedo, the Rabaris wear dark maroon and black. Shyamji bhai’s work reflects an appreciation of the classical idiom (figure). When he talks of his approach to his new work he says“When one refers to the old for new designs, one will never run short of possibilities”. He adds further by sayings that whatever he designs by looking at the old pieces always turn out good. He believes that he already has a very extensive repertoire of motifs or forms which he must look at to design the new. He gives an example of the durries designed by Prabha Shah in the seventeen in which she used the stripes of a pagadi, he says “it has been doing well for the last thirty years”. While showing me an old traditional piece of an Ahir dhabala, he said that “the rhythm in the colours of the warp ends for the border is never altered”, and if he does make changes, it does not work as well as the original (Perhaps emphasizing the classicism of old designs). When he examines traditional textiles he appreciates them for their visual balance and logic in the use of design elements. He defines the use of a kungri or a temple in a two piece Jaisalmera shawl as being a very clever solution to double the picks; a small width loom allowed a weaver to use two shuttles from both sides, and returning back to the respective side after interlocking at one point thus doubling the pick in the same shed. The Kungri also allowed pure black for the border. A shawl, pagdi, saafa, dhabri, pernu all these products always used a Kor or a border and a chheda or an end piece, the proportions varied according to the end use of the product. He thinks a Kor defines the form. He feels that traditional wisdom and knowledge must be carefully preserved and will reap new ideas for designs that are more sustainable. His endeavor to revive lac dyeing, and attempts to research the traditional methods practiced locally reflect such ideology. Other than a design to be aesthetically beautiful to be a good design he believes “a design that could be woven by an average skilled weaver of my village and creates a good demand in the market is a good design”. He feels that in the past costing of products was not done. A lot of hidden costs like winding, warping, dyeing were never considered. This was because work was based on mutual understanding between families or communities. Only the quality was considered essential as the maker knew the consumer (shared a social bond). But now work patterns have changed, the weaver only has money in exchange for all the time he puts into the making of the product. Also a loom has an entire family to support, not just a single weaver. New products can be sold through a refined costing process; it will allow an increase in the income and eventually the wages of a weaver. Whereas the products that have been in the market for years already have a set price which is very difficult to alter. Since the last fifteen years Shyamji bhai’s family has been working on highly intricate pieces which they send for national and international exhibitions and awards. These are one off pieces that are meant to reflect the weaver’s skills. According to him and he does not think of them to be superior designs than the ones that require average skills. But these rare pieces are done with involvement and care; the pieces reflect karigari of the craftsperson. The maker also experiences satisfaction in the entire process.But according to him Karigari is also expressed in average skilled products. He gave me an example of the selvedge or ‘lad’ which reflects karigari of a weaver. “A karigar is the artisan or craftsperson the one who has the skill required to make a product ( karya is ‘work’ and gar is ‘to carry out’). But karigari is the manifestation of an artisan’s skill or expertise; it reflects his understanding and attitude towards his work”. He thinks ‘karigari’ was an essential feature of most products in the past because an artisan spent time with his work and was in connection with his client. People who understand the nuances of weaving can easily judge if the piece has karigari or not. A weaver’s traditional clients the Rabaris were aware of the number of ends per inch that they would provide a perfect drape. But now clients have changed and so has the attitude of the weavers. He considers himself to have had an edge over the others in terms of opportunities; he thinks of his family to have provided him that platform for exploration and experiment. He believes that many weavers of his village have the capability to design and be innovative, but experimentation on the loom is an expensive affair; also one has to be free from pressures. Most weavers are the only bread earners in a family which does not allow them to take out time for any inventiveness.

Conclusion I think working with lac dye is one of Shyamji bhai’s attempts towards revival of an old technique which does not essentially derive significance from its sophistication (from its processes like Ajrak does) but more for the way in which it reflects social aspects of communities and links within the same. And it has been interesting to inquire into the lac dyeing practices of the region, it reveals very interesting patterns that have developed over centuries as interdependence has been a way of life in Kachchh like other parts of rural India. It seems difficult to be able to imagine such interconnectedness between people, nature and sustainable systems of work. Belief systems that are either due to religious or cultural impacts play a crucial role in shaping traditions and also a community’s aesthetics.

Shyamji bhai’s attempt is at its preliminary stages. I think there are many issues that will have to be dealt with if lac dyeing for textiles is to be revived for production by the weavers in Bhujodi and subsequently other parts of the country. The primary concern is that the raw material is not available in the local markets and no more procured from the surroundings. In most probability it will require to be sourced from other parts of the country like Chhattisgarh, Odisha, Assam and West Bengal where the cost of processed lac is very high. The lac that shyamjibhai has brought from Chhatisgarh for his experiments costs Rs 1000 for a kilogram (Figure). The traditional methods that Shyamjibhai is using involve high lac consumption which would eventually make lac dyed products expensive.The old technique may lend some interesting ideas for developing a self sustained system of production. According to our research the Makpat belt of Kachchh does have a large quantity of lac; there is a possibility that it be obtained from there and locally used for dyeing. This will need further research and surveys. But will be interesting if a self reliant system is developed like the old system.Also in India, lac is mainly used to obtain resin or ‘shellac’ (mainly exported) through aqueous extraction in industrial processes where lac dye is a by product that is allowed to run to waste. This is for its negligible demand. Lac is cultivated mainly for its Shellac. (ref internet) If lac dye practices are revived at a larger scale, with increase in demand, it is possible that the dye pigment in the industrial process is also set aside and made available for trade at competent rates.

Shayamji Bhai and Bhujodi

Due to its ease of access and highly skilled population of weavers, Bhujodi has been the main centre for interaction with the outside world through trade and tourism, which has prominently increased over the last three to four decades. Bhujodi has experienced the impact of some of the most significant transforms in Kachchh (Since attaining independence in 1947), which include the state interventions, introduction of new technologies, exposure to national and international trade and tourism, restriction of free movement to Sindh. Shyamji bhai’s family with a few others has been actively involved with all the changes that have taken place in Bhujodi and have affected the weaving trade of the village. Till the late nineteen sixties most of the weaving in Bhujodi as other craft practices in Kachchh was carried out for the local market which consisted of many different communities. In the case of Bhujodi it meant the Rabari population of the village itself. ¹¹ When the demands of woolen shawls in the urban market started sustaining the entire weaver community, the weavers seized to serve the traditional market for its uncertainty and small quantity. By the eighties Bhujodi only catered to urban market. The local people in turn got their products woven from further away weaving centres like Adhoi in Bhachau (ref. Map). ¹² New market with their own aesthetics and economic capabilities shaped the kind of work that was produced in Bhujodi by the late seventies. In this entire transformation various people including a few weavers were instrumental in making sure that the weaving traditions are not lost completely. Amongst such visionaries was also Vishram Valji, father of Shamji bhai. (Most of Shyamji bhai’s strengths are derived from his father who he respects a great deal). To strike a balance between retaining long-established idiom of Bhujodi weaving, and at the same time working towards the new market demands, was a challenge faced by the weavers. It seemed like weavers were conscious of the impact of implementation of new technologies, new materials and designs; decisions were taken with caution and maturity. Shyamjibhai is thirty two years old and also a graduate in arts from Bhuj University. He is a weaver, designer and entrepreneur. He has worked with a range of new materials like Tussar, Eri, Muga, Mulberry, cotton, and finer count yarns, and also experimented with introduction of new products in the last ten years of his work. He is aware of the significance of natural dyes in the global scenario. Lately he has been grappling with the idea of how value additions in the Bhujodi products could bring about better wages and improve the economic stability of the weavers. He is of the view that the setting up of many new industries in Kachchh has resulted in the opening of innumerable job opportunities for common people, and the craftsmen are bound to resign to other means of income if their traditional skills don’t fetch them adequate money to serve the needs of their family. Shyamji bhai’s endeavor for revival of lac dyeing is also based on his deep respect for traditional knowledge and skills. He has collected a range of old textiles from Kachchh, and draws inspiration from them for new design ideas.

Historical Timeline, Bhujodi 1945 – 40 to 50 looms worked for the local communities of Rabaris, Kanbis and Ahirs in Bhujodi

1945 – A sammelan was organized in Bhuj to discuss the problems faced by the weavers. Weavers were issued identity card/ration cards to be able to buy woolen yarns directly from the government at low rates. 1961 – Introduction of fly shuttles by means of a training program, Khadi Gram Udhyog sold fly shuttles at fifty percent rebate so most looms in Bhujodi were equipped with the new mechanism 1965 – Introduction of mill spun 2/32’s Indian Merino, brought from Nagpal Mills, Mumbai 1975 – Prabha Shah worked with crafts of Kachchh for her Mumbai based Export Company and commissioned a lot of work for her urban clientele. 1975 – Gujarat Rajya Hasta Shilp Vikas Nigam was established, opened an office in Bhuj, it would buy the products from craftsmen to ensure work, designers like Krishna Amin Patel from National Institute of Design came to Bhujodi for design development with the weavers to be marketed through Gurjari. Mr Bhasin director of Gurjari was active in Bhujodi. He introduced a rug weaving technique in Bhujodi, most production for that is done in Kandherai another village near Bhojodi. 1976 – All India Handicraft Board introduced craftsmen to Handloom fairs and also sponsored them 1976 – Setting up of Calico museum brought researchers like Jyotindra Jain and others to Bhujodi. Weavers were also called to exhibit in Ahmedabad 1979 – The first handloom fair attended by Vishram Valji in this year, and continued thereafter 1980 – Introduction of2/60’s Acrylic yarns from Ludhiana 1995 – Introduction of2/60’s millspun merino from Ludhiana for demand of lightweight woolen products from the international market 2006 – Number of weavers is 200, with 120 working looms

Endnotes

The tradition of Ajrak printing and dyeing is mainly from Sindh and it is still practiced there.
The products changed from lungis or men’s loincloth to scarves and yardages. The natural dyed Ajrak is not used by the local communities due to its high cost.
Hindu mythological god
Mushru is a warp faced satin weave woven in patan, Gujarat
When lac was replaced by acid dyes in the market, the Rabaris continued to use tamarind instead of acid with the chemical powders as it was safer for them to carry it while traveling.
Umar Farooq is a traditional dyer in Bhadli western Kachchh, dyes lodkis and pernus for Rabaris since the last four generations, but now caters to the urban market
Most old Dhebaria Rabari men know of the Paabudada bhajan
‘The dyestuff from lac is obtained by aqueous extraction of sticklac; the resinous residue is further processed to “seedlac” and to the fully refined “shellac”’.
There was barter system in the past; the forest gatherers would exchange their gathering with a useful textile product from the Khatris or for grains from the local merchants. Lac would have formed a part of such merchandise within Kachchh.
Historically India has been a major exported of lac dye. Even during the British rule, the East India Company engaged lac cultivators to produce lac dye for them to send to Europe. But lac lost its world market with the invention of synthetic dyes in mid-nineteenth century. Its local use lasted till the early twentieth century. Lac was also produced in Burma and south India. But among foreign buyers Bengal Lac was in the greatest demand. Lac was exported both in twigs packed in gunny bags and in the cake form. Twig-Lac was obviously cheaper than cake-Lac.

Issue #008, 2021 ISSN: 2581- 9410 As a Pakistani pedagogical leader, who has been associated with academia since 2013, I have had the opportunity to get into dialogues around the subject involving the role of different forms of arts in education. More than often, I have found myself in situations with both parents and peers where the centuries old question comes up:

Why should schools teach different forms of arts and crafts with exploration of local heritage?
In what ways can teaching of arts and craft impact learners’ attainment?
Which approaches to teaching should schools adopt to inculcate craft heritage in their context?

There is a plethora of research available to address the first two questions, However, the debate of how and in what ways schools may integrate arts education, particularly craft heritage, can be answered through a keen study of existing successful practices in academic domain. In the quest of responding to this query, a small-scale qualitative study of educator perspectives was conducted from different parts of Pakistan on teaching of craft heritage in schools. Educationists from a variety of private and government schools residing in different vicinities of Pakistan were interviewed. The objective of the study remained to share the best practices and bring to spotlight the approaches of teaching adopted by educators to integrate craft heritage in both the curriculum and classroom. This topic becomes even more important with the launch of “Single National Curriculum” (SNC) by the Government of Pakistan on 14th August, 2021, to be implemented in both private and government schools country-wide. The emphasis on creating an identity through a homogenized public education in Pakistan has made education a tool of nation-building; however, the question remains to what extent this newly implemented curriculum promotes critical thinking, civic imagination while celebrating cultural diversity, empathy, and coexistence. As much as the newly developed curriculum claims to promote 21st Century skills it's rather astonishing to observe that there is little to no link evident in the new SNC with the Arts and Craft heritage of Pakistan – the curriculum focus is standardized, irrespective of the cultural context, leading to alienation of children to their own communities. Incorporating cultural heritage at some level in the curriculum could however strengthen the motto of SNC i.e. building a sense of national identity. Perspectives of Pakistani Educators This paper presents views of the art educators in Pakistan, associated with academia, on teaching craft heritage in a variety of ways in schools: from class activities to field expeditions, from student-led explorations to apprenticeship with artisans - there is undeniably an air of promoting craft heritage through a variety of activities amongst the educator fraternities of Pakistan. Muhammad Ghulam Abbas, an artisan from interior Sindh shares - “Schools, universities and colleges often invite me to conduct guest lessons. I take pride in promoting the local craft of ‘Ajrak’ block printing. The history of Ajrak block printing goes all the way back to the Indus Valley Civilization, existing 5,000 years ago and its links can be traced to the remains of Mohenjo-daro. In modern day, universities teach it as a part of their curricula and that perhaps is one of the main reasons that it has gained such wide universal acclaim. I, as an artisan, have inherited this dying craft of Ajrak using natural dyes, as a part of my family legacy. However, as an artisan and an art educator, I aspire to translate the recognition of this glorious form of craft in my interactions with the students country-wide. I have faith that understanding cultural heritage brings you closer to the traditional wisdom and one’s true self and with this intent, I promote this in my fraternity through collaborations, workshops, classes and courses.”- Muhammad Ghulam Abbas, Artisan, Sindh [caption id="attachment_191903" align="aligncenter" width="497"]

Karachi School of Arts (KSA) Workshop on natural dyes and block printing. Source: Ghulam Abbas, Artisan, Sindh[/caption] The culture of apprenticeship is not just all that is there. Ehsan Ali, a university teacher validates such practices being adopted at undergraduate level as well. “It should be a compulsory practice for schools to collaborate with craftsmen and get students to apprentice with them in their clusters. We share relevant research with students to instill knowledge of our traditional crafts especially the languishing crafts. Students are given an assignment to search for local crafts in their area and document at least one craft being practiced. Promoting craft means promoting skilled people. We should encourage collaborations of designers and artists with craftsmen to bring the best of both - ideas and skills - together. - Ehsan Ali, National Textile University, Faisalabad, Punjab [caption id="attachment_191904" align="aligncenter" width="375"]

When learning is hands-on: One-day workshop at National College of Arts (NCA), Pindi. Source: Ghulam Abbas, Artisan, Sindh[/caption] Educationists from Punjab greatly emphasize on the significance of the apprenticeship model and how it helps students to engage with the inquiry process Madiha Hassan, an Art Educator from Lahore elaborates,

“We focus on the apprenticeship model where the student learns directly under supervision of any selected discipline which inculcates the holistic learning experience. Another example is learning craftsmanship by calling in craftsmen to conduct workshops. Another effective way of doing it is by introducing and implementing crafts based interdisciplinary curriculum across the board. For example, history lessons on “Taxila” can have some project-based unit plans that can be conducted in an Art studio focusing on sculptures and texts of “Budha”. Such lesson plans cover topics like geography, history, religious tolerance, cultural values etc. This way one lesson is not taught separately by each subject teacher rather “shared knowledge” from all subjects/ teachers is formed. Reinforcing the values of Pakistan’s Cultural heritage in our curriculum will inculcate the respect and value for our traditions and culture and will try to target the inferiority complex embedded in our nation pre- and post-colonial period, through education.”

Students analyzing miniature Mughal art at Faqeer Khana Museum- Lahore, Punjab. Source: Hibah Ambreen, Lahore

The educationists engaged with different levels of schooling reflected upon ways of incorporating craft heritage in day-to-day teaching. Quoting Laiba Khan, a primary educator from Balochistan,

“I believe that an exposure to craft heritage as early as the primary year of schooling can help learners understand and relate to their local culture and at the same time establish a link with the past and the present for our future generations. In my observation, it can be used to define their motor skills, hone their creativity and give them more avenues to think out-side-the-book”- Laiba Khan, Primary Years Educator, Gawadar, Balochistan It’s imperative to note that there exists a great enthusiasm amongst art educators to promote craft heritage in different levels of academia within Pakistan. Teachers make use of a variety of strategies to incorporate exploration, analysis and inquiry of craft heritage within their own capacity and resources. Educationists in their reflections, support the following recommendations for Pakistani Educational Institutes to incorporate teaching of craft heritage:

Interdisciplinary Learning Engagements

A recent meta-analysis of arts integration research as seen through ESSA (Every Student Succeeds Act) found that arts have a statistically significant effect on student achievement (Ludwig, et al., 2017). Incorporation of craft heritage can be done via planning interdisciplinary learning engagements such as - study of Mughal architecture can be well planned in a Mathematics class with links extended to digital design and visual arts. Interdisciplinary approaches to teaching can help educators in inculcating learning of craft heritage in a contextual manner while mapping it across academic subjects.

Infusing Craft Heritage through Inquiry

[caption id="attachment_191907" align="alignright" width="207"]

Hibah Ambreen, High School student, Lahore[/caption]

“Walking through the narrow lanes of Old Lahore, a realization dawns upon me. One becomes aware of the old traditions that are now fading into the bins of history. It's as if the roots of our heritage call upon us. Our forefathers had walked these narrow streets lined with traditional havelis etched with memories of the bygone era; they sat in dhabas (roadside cafes) which have been an embodiment of homemade food with local gossips”, said Hibah Ambreen, a high school student from Lahore. Undeniably, incorporating a deep, meaningful and well-planned exploration of craft heritage can help students to ponder over the big questions while helping them to reflect as they ponder over the ‘Whys’ and ‘What-ifs’ invoked by such an inquiry.

Students on an interdisciplinary exploration of local historical craft heritage. Source: Muaz Nisar, Lahore

Apprenticeship with Artisans

Inculcating craft education in school curriculum cannot only help teachers to expand learners’ creative horizons but also helps artisans by providing room for sustainable partnerships. Pakistani art educators reported many such on-going collaborations based on mentor-mentee (Ustaad- Shagird) model where the students undertake apprenticeship as a part of their courses understudy. At one end partnerships provide valuable knowledge to the students while at the same time, these promote sustainable development by creating opportunities for artisans promoting craft heritage. Such initiatives, if expanded to a larger scale, can greatly benefit the preservation of craft heritage at global level and have the potential of preserving indigenous wisdom.

Promoting Multilingualism through Craft Heritage

[caption id="attachment_191910" align="alignright" width="226"]

Abullah Ahmad, High School Student, Lahore[/caption] Languages, especially regional languages, narrate tales which tend to die otherwise under the tide of time! Educators unanimously have emphasized the significance of craft heritage and its relationship with promoting multilingualism. From majestic myths to fantastic fables, from a sense of being connected to depicting a culture as it is: a study of craft heritage can help students to not only get exposed to a variety of languages but also helps them understand the gist of various concepts without the fear of being lost-in-translation. As exclaimed Abdullah Ahmed, a high school student from Lahore, in his reflection of a field expedition on craft heritage, saying: “Our guide first asked us about the font in which Urdu is written. It sounded so simple as we use Urdu everyday but it asked something that never once crossed anyone’s mind. SILENCE… absolute silence. No one had an answer to the question. It was then that he informed us that it was known as Nastaleeq. Interesting… I had never thought that written languages had ‘fonts’ and that they only existed for computers. I can only imagine what we can learn about different local languages through craft heritage!”

Incorporating Community Values through Craft Education

A mindful inclusion of craft heritage in the curricula inculcates and promotes community values amongst students. Teachers from different colleges have used a variety of literature pieces which not only promote indigenous knowledge but also incorporate community values such as collaboration, empathy and compassion amongst the students. Educators suggest that schools can undertake activities like literary circles, Socratic seminars and guest speaker sessions with local writers to help promote craft heritage and in turn also teach community values as a by-product of the process.

Students as participants in literary circles to debate community values. Source: Aruj Khaliq, Lahore

Sparking Creativity through Craft Education

Educators in their reflection highlight that the practitioners can infuse craft heritage through a variety of pedagogical approaches. Educationists persuasively backed the fact that such an incorporation of craft heritage not only teaches valuable lessons to students on empathy, compassion and adds to indigenous knowledge but using these as a stimulus to spark creativity can be another pro of inculcating craft heritage in curriculum.

[caption id="attachment_191913" align="alignright" width="187"]

Mustafa Nisar, High School Student, Lahore[/caption] I was known to the common man as pomegranate blossom Yet when I died, they looked at me as if I was loathsome As soon as I died, I became a succubus, Starting to feed on the flesh of homunculus My faith had become to frighten. That was the only thing that made me feel lighten I became a being immortal, observing humanity from a silent portal. But as decades passed and humans transmogrified, the more they made me surprised. As came along the organized Britishers, the natives were enslaved to the foreigners. In the people it made a large aperture. And so soon they adopted the alien culture. Times passed and the Emperor’s dynasty abolished, the new culture became even more polished. But nothing is permanent and the Britishers were gone, yet what stayed behind was the culture they had sown, Now I roam the once pure kingdom of Mahagauri, and all I find is people with forgotten Glory. I guess it’s a curse greater than mine, but nothing is permanent, so its fine. Poem written by Mustafa Nisar, Highschool Student from Lahore after reflecting and building real-life connections with historical craft heritage in the context of Punjab. In a nutshell, the significance of craft heritage cannot be undermined and educationists from Pakistan depicted great zeal for incorporating craft heritage in education. From conducting student-led literary circles to refining motor skills of early year learners, from using craft heritage as a muse to researching on the lost glory, there are valuable lessons learners of different age groups can derive as an outcome of teaching craft heritage in curriculum. Conclusively, the onus to incorporate a connection with craft heritage and creating opportunities for learners to benefit from the indigenous wisdom explored through arts remains with the policy makers and educationists designing the curriculum. Infusion of indigenous knowledge through craft heritage should not only remain as a point-to-ponder for the educational leadership developing the new Single National Curriculum (SNC) for Pakistani students but also for the curriculum developers world-wide, for only then there kindles a hope for this domain of knowledge to remain relevant, beneficial and trickle down to generations to come!

Pichhawai (pichha - back and wai - of) always reminds the pigment painted handy-work of hangings illustrating Shri Nathji of Nathdwara (Rajasthan), which is the most integral part of the Vallabhacharya Sampradaya. Subject of these pichhawais is the illustration of Shri Nath ji and numerous festivals related to him. The tradition of pichhawai was so popular in around 18th century that it inspired the printer, weaver and embroiderer to work upon it besides the painter. With the result, number of tinsel printed pichhawais from Deccan and zari brocaded and ari-embroidered pichhawais from Gujarat were made during the 19th century. The ari-embroidered pichhawais are less worked upon in compare to painted and tinsel printed ones. Here is an attempt to discuss the ari-embroidered two pichhawais of the National Museum collection in detail. Part of a Magnificent Early Pichhawai The deep blue satin silk embroidered hanging is a part of larger pichhawai. (pl. 42.1) This piece is only one segment of a large pichhawai, which depicts three female devotees standing behind each other under an arched grove. The arches here remind the 17th-18th century arches of stone and wood temples of western region. The multi-coloured grove is full of floral foliage, dancing peacock, pair of parrot and banana tree symbolizes the life, which was the most popular subject for ari embroidered large hangings especially made for export to European market in the 19th century. Three female devotees hold the morchhal (peacock feathered fan), pankha (fan) and a tray. An arch shaped traditional pankha appeared to be embroidered and circular tray is full of small utensils like: jal-patra (water vessel), gulabpash (rose-water sprinkler) and a box. The faces of devotees are round with sharp-features and they have been shown in their typical attire of Gujarat region; lehanga, choli and odhani. Colourful lehanga of each devotee has two shades; red with pale yellow; pale green with off-white and pink with yellow. The soothing colours of iehanga have come out well with contrast colour choli and odhani. The fall of lehanga with its fight curved hem gives the rhythm of movement, which shows the esthetic taste of artisan. These devotees are bejeweled with variety of ornaments such as - head ornament, nose-ring, ear-ring, necklace, bangles and anklets. Row of cows is on three sides of hanging and all of them are facing in same direction, the center deity. The crafts museum of New Delhi also has a deep blue ari embroidered pichhawai, which has similar theme, composition even the shades of colours as the National Museum's pichhawai has. As both these pichhawais appears to be same, so it is quite possible that these two are the part of one larger pichhawai, however the centerpiece (illustrating the Shri Nathji) is still missing. If both pichhawais (of National Museum and Craft Museum) were put together, (along with Shri Nathji portion) size of this pichhawai would have been very impressive. The line work of figures, their ornamentation style, use of perfect colour contrast with proper aesthetic taste, good composition with balance figure and other patterns makes this work an excellent work of art. All these qualities have been came out well with the fine intricacy of ari work, which suggest the work of mid 19th century AD and most probably it has been made for some big temple and may be on order. Pichhawai Depict Shri Nath Ji and Life Scenes of Lord Krishna Second example of ari embroidered pichhawai in the National Museum collection depict much more elaborate theme of Krishna's life. Off-white satin silk pichhawai is intricately embroidered with Navneet Krishna as a center figure along with scenes from his life in narrative style all around the borders. (pl. 42.2) The center theme of pichhawai is divided into three horizontal divisions and elaborate broad borders are on three sides, while fourth (lower horizontal) border is plain. Both side vertical broad borders are further sub-divided into nine compartments each with floral creeper bands. The top horizontal border has been divided into seven square small compartments with the help of narrow floral borders of different designs. Small colourful flowers have been embroidered all around the Krishna, which gives the effect as flower showering is being done on him. The use of colourful,silk threads such as shades of green, mauve, off-white, red and blue and the golden metal thread add the charm and attraction to the pichhawai. The upper portion of the center theme (from the top) depicts big size floral boteh almost like a tree in the center. (pl. 42.3) The boteh has been arranged in a beautiful manner with lots of flowers, leaves, parrots and peacocks. It reminds the concept of tree of life depiction in chintz, which was prevalent around seventeenth and eighteenth century in domestic as well as the European market. The either side of boteh depicts the Rasa dance of Krishna and Gopis. Row of colourful cows and Surya are on either side. The second horizontal portion of the center theme depict Navaneet Krishna (also known as Laddu Gopal) sitting on masnad under the pavilion and two morchhal bearers flanks on either side. Rasa of Krishna and Gopis have been portrayed on either side of the pavilion (pl. 42.4). The interesting part of this Rasa composition is that here the depiction of Krishna is more like Shri Nathji, who is in center. Krishna-Gopis are dancing within circle in a garden and various musicians are playing different instruments like sitar, sarangi, majera and dab, etc. The lower most division of the center theme is comparatively plain; just two elongated floral botehs are in the center and nine cows are arranged in two rows on either side. The center portion of this division is plain to keep the idol in front of this plain area. The top horizontal border's seven compartment illustrates the different activities of baby Krishna. These compartments (from left to right) depict baby Krishna playing with his father Vasudeva; Krishna sitting with his brother Balrama; Krishna standing on lotus pedestal and playing flute and flanked by chauri bearer; He is stealing butter; Krishna-Balrama along with cows and two men are talking. The compartments of left side border (from top to bottom) depict mother Yasohda is feeding the baby Krishna; she is churning the butter and Krishna-Balrama is stealing butter from the milk pot; Yashoda is scolding Krishna; Radha or Yashoda is siting in a pavilion and Gopi is talking to her; Krishna-Radha is in groove; Krishna is dancing on Kaliya Naga and Nagini are standing with folded hands; Krishna-Radha are depicted in a house; Gopis holding the butter bowl and talking to each-other; Baby Krishna is killing putna asura; Krishna is combing Radha; Krishna is milking cow and Krishna is siting in a garden and devotee offering flower to him. The compartments of right side border (from top to bottom) depict Yashoda is feeding the baby Krishna; baby Krishna is standing on Gopa and stealing butter, which is kept on height; Yasodha has tied Krishna with tree; Gopa are talking to each-other; Krishna is sitting in a pavilion; Krishna is stealing cloths, while Gopis are standing in a pound; Krishna-Radha are enjoying the swing while Gopis are watching them; baby Krishna with his mother Yashoda; Krishna is playing with Radha and covering her eyes; Krishna is milking cow; Krishna has been portrait in bigger form and devotees standing in front of him. Concept of depicting the deity in center and his life scenes around him started appearing in around 10th-11th century in stone and bronze sculptures. Later on, this concept became so popular that it appeared in wood and fabric also. Number of painted door from Orissa and Kalamkari hanging from Andhra Pradesh illustrates Ganesha, Krishna or Vishnu images along with their life scenes in around 18th-19th century AD. Here this ari-embroidered pichhawai is an excellent example of same concept. The figures in this pichhawai are in static posture and intricacy of stitch is also not so fine as compare to pichhawai discussed above. Still it has its own qualities such as; the perfect composition with lots of figures, Rasa-dance, Krishna's playful activities, floral boteh, cow, peacock, etc. All this minute details have been done with remarkable balance. This kind of pichhawai was made may be for some smaller temple and for daily use. This is a good example of fine ari embroidery work, which was done in the last quarter of 19th or starting of 20th century. Technical Know-how of Ari Work The ari work of Kachchh, Gujarat, is popularly known as mochi embroidery. On the silk fabric this exquisite embroidery is done with silk thread and the important implement is required for it is awl and wooden frame. The basic tool awl has a small notch, which helps embroiderer to achieve the delicacy in stitching. Embroiderer usually holds the silk thread in one hand and works with the help of ari by other hand. They usually prefer to work on satin or gajji silk or mashru cloth (silk and cotton mixed fabric), which could hold so many pierces. (Sometimes more than 250 per square inches) The compact pattern, perfect colour balance and fineness in the stitching had created the wonders, which was adorned by the domestic and abroad market. History of Ari Work The authentic and certain history of ari work produced by the mochi community of Bhuj area is not very clear. According to the Gazetteer of the Bombay Presidency "around 250 years ago a Mussalman beggar Fakir, skilled in embroidery, is said to have come from Sind and taught his art to some families of the shoemaker (machi) caste of Bhuj and Mandvi, who were famous for their leather embroidery skill". Therefore this much is sure that today ari embroidery is almost 375 years old. There is another saying also, which reveals that these mochi embroiderers have learnt this craft about the end of sixteenth century and the beginning of seventeenth century, when Gujarat came under the rule of Mughals and their provincial Governors. Mughal Emperor Akbar established several Imperial karkhanas during his rule. Ahmedabad had one such karkhana is a known fact. Around sixteenth and seventeenth century Gujarat was famous for silk chain stitch embroideries on cotton. The Marco Polo (16th century) doesn't make any reference to the silk embroidery on cotton, but he does refer about the leather-work embroidery of Sind, which mochi embroiderers were doing on leather mat and other things. Probably at that time the mochi community was practicing this art on leather. Later on these professional embroiderers of the mochi families started working on costumes. Beginning of the nineteenth century refers beautiful ad embroidery work done by mochi embroiderers on costumes for ladies of the court of Bhuj and landed aristocracy. At that period there were fifteen such mochi community families in the Bhuj area, which were making up and exporting large quantities of embroidery to European market. The museums in India does not have much ari embroidery pieces (especially pichhawais are less known so far) even then whatever is available, are been able to convey the rich tradition of an embroidery of Bhuj region. From palampore to pichhawai or from lehanga to chakla all these are beautifully embroidered and left great impression, which don't have any parallel. The ari embroidery had made a special place in the world of embroidery and the National Museum's pichhawais are the excellent examples of it. References

Vallabhacharya founded the Pusti Marg in the late 15th century. Pusti Marg teaches a form of motism called Shuddhadvaita, which believes that all created brings have emerged from on Supreme Power.
There are 24 major celebrations, which are mainly Krishna's festivals based on the Bhagavata Purana; Talwar, K. and Krishan, Kalayan (1979) Indian Pigment Paintings on Cloth, Ahmedabad, pp. 13-14.
The starting of pichhawai is not certain, however in the poetry of Govindswami the word pichhavai and pichhavari have been mentioned. Gokul Nath ji, the grandson of Vallabhacharya wrote in Kriti Rahasya Bhavna about the white pichhawai. Few late 19th century miniature painting from Rajasthan also depict the Shri Nathji and pichhawai adorn the backdrop.
Talwar, K. and Krishan, Kalayan (1979) Indian Pigment Paintings on Cloth, Ahmedabad, p. 54, pl. 62-63; Ambalal, A. (1987) Krishna as Shrinathji, Ahmedabad, pp. 75-82.
Dwivedi, V.P. (1975) Wood Carvings, In: A. Ghosh (ed.) Jaina Art and Architecture, Vol. III, New Delhi, pp. 285, 296.
Crill, R., Barnes R. and Cohen, S. (2002) Trade Temple and Court Indian Textiles from the Tapi Collection, Mumbai, p. 100.
Jain, J. and Aggarwala (1989) National Handicrafts and Handlooms Museum, New Delhi, p. 150.
Pal, P. (1989) Metal Sculptures, In: Art and Architecture of Ancient Kashmir, Marg, p. 88.
Pathak, All A Painted Orissan Door Illustrating Ganesh's Genesis, in Marg, Vol. XLVII, no. 21995, pp. 85-87.
Varadarajan, L.(1982) South Indian Tradition of Kalamkari, National Institute of Design, Ahmedabad, pp. 66, 72, 74.
Ewles, R. (1983) The Ari a Chain Stitch Tool from Gujarat, Embroidery Magazine, Vol. 34, No. 2 p. 55; Dhamija, J. (1987) Embroidery of Gujarat: Living Traditions, In: Nigam, M.L. (ed.) Decorative Arts of India, Salar Jung Museum, Hyderabad, pp. 151-161.
Gazetteer of the Bombay Presidency (1880) Vol. V, pp. 125-126.
Blochmann, H. (Tr.) (1965) Ain-i-Akbari, Abu-Fazl, (2nd ed.), Delhi, p. 93.
Crill, R. (1999) Indian Embroidery, Delhi, pp. 23-27.
Gazetteer, ibid., p. 82.
Gazetteer, ibid., p. 126.
Crill, R. et al. (2002) ibid., p. 100.
Jain, J. and Aggarwala, ibid., p. 152; Crill, R. et al. (2002) ibid., pp. 218-219; Irwin, J. and Hall, M. (1973) Indian Embroideries, Vol. II, Ahmedabad, pp. 27-29.
Lal, K. (1984) Indian Decorative Arts, Exhibition Catalogue, Dresden, p. 74.
Crill (1999) ibid., p. 87.

The Poetics and Politics of Indian Folk and Tribal Art

Issue #005, Summer, 2020 ISSN: 2581- 9410

Art@Anangpur celebrates the magnificence of the indigenous folk and tribal cultures of India in an iconic setting, the Anangpur Building Centre. It is a dream project based on three decades of my work trying to preserve, document and promote folk and tribal cultures. Our goal is to promote the artists and craftspeople of India who with their skills, imagination and inherited lore have created amazing works. We are committed to ensuring they do not remain the “nameless, faceless carriers of tradition” but are acknowledged and respected as artists in their own right. So what exactly is Art@Anangpur? We are part of a larger non-profit that works to generate livelihood for marginalised communities. Art@Anangpur has been envisaged as a gateway into the amazing world of folk and tribal cultures with its rich treasure chest of unique praxis, stories, and arts and crafts. We have an art gallery, a library, a performance arena, workshop spaces and classrooms where folk and tribal artists from across the world come to teach and showcase their art/craft/music and dance. We are an experimental centre where we are trying to push boundaries and encourage new ideas and methods. We encourage collaborations of all kinds and also facilitate access to new materials and techniques to folk and tribal artists who are often restricted by cultural and economic factors to innovate. Creating awareness about India’s rich and multi-faceted cultural heritage embedded in folk and tribal communities is a major focus at Art@Anangpur and we are constantly working on films, books and articles about artists and their traditions. Where is Art@Anangpur? We are housed in an architectural marvel, the Anangpur Building Centre in village Anangpur, Faridabad near New Delhi. This Centre was built by architect Professor Anil Laul who was an ardent advocate of sustainable building practices. The Centre is a light-filled architectural extravaganza, incorporating existing rock forms and innovating on materials and techniques. Through our workshops and classes, we wish to foster a similar sense of ingenuity and aesthetics in everyone who walks through our door. So how did Art@Anangpur come about? Art@Anangpur builds on both my personal and professional experiences. I was born and raised in the Northeast of India and was fortunate to experience the great ethnic and cultural diversity of this little known part of India. After my Master’s degree in New Delhi, issues of identity and cultural representation began to be of great concern to me and I became a passionate advocate of Indian arts and crafts. Through my work, I hope to build bridges between the skilled creators and audiences worldwide. My wish is that with enhanced communication and interaction, there will be greater understanding and appreciation of cultural diversity and we will learn to value knowledge systems other than the ones we are familiar with. Art@Anangpur is an effort to showcase and promote the diverse knowledge systems of our beautiful country which are struggling against the impact of globalization, technological advances and the changing mores of society and life in the 21^st century. A big part of my learning curve about folk and tribal cultures has been the opportunity to curate collections for museums and collectors across the world. In 2006, I served as coordinator and co-curator for an innovative program Collecting Contemporary India over three years for National Museums, Liverpool (NML) along with Emma Martin, Head of Ethnology & Curator of Asian Collections, (NML). This was a first of its kind initiative wherein contemporary folk art from India was added to NML’s permanent collection and resulted in a show “Telling Tales”. In 2009-2010, I curated a traveling show for the feminist publishing house Zubaan titled “Poster Women II: Painting Our World -Women’s Messages through Art” which travelled across India to universities and small town venues. In 2012, Patricia Allan, Curator of World Cultures, Glasgow Museums and I began building a collection of contemporary sculpture from Assam, truck art from Punjab and dhokra metal sculptures from West Bengal for National Museums Glasgow. Our project was the first one from South Asia to be supported by the prestigious Art Fund’s RENEW Award and resulted in the exhibition “Pehchaan”. One of the biggest projects I undertook was the co-curation of a special show “Kalpa Vriksha: Contemporary Indigenous and Vernacular Art of India” — the first major display of its kind at the Asia Pacific Triennial (APT) 8 at QAGOMA, Brisbane in 2015. To celebrate 70 years of Indo-UK relations, my colleague Dr Mark Elliot at Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, Cambridge and I curated a yearlong exhibition titled “Another India’. I also built collections for the US Library of Congress, National Galleries Victoria and the American Visionary Art Museum, Baltimore. Based on all of my experiences, I realized the need in India for a space that allows for deep and meaningful interaction with these artists and artisans. A space that went beyond museum displays. A space that went beyond the clichéd exchange of buying and selling, of being viewer and being viewed. A space that allowed for profound communication as the artists and artisans tell us the how, why and what of their art, craft, dance and music and other aspects of their culture such as food and poetry. For instance, the fact that Madhubani art has different styles for the different castes. Or how the patachitra artists from West Bengal makes black colour from burnt rice and the natural glue used to fix the colour. Or why do married women make certain auspicious paintings during weddings amongst the Warli people. Or what are the kind of food they eat as per seasons. And thus Art@Anangpur was born – to foster communication between different worlds. Our goals are clear and simple: To preserve the traditional indigenous arts and crafts of India; to promote the economic and social well-being of the practitioners of indigenous arts and crafts; to conduct research on the cultural practises and publish the research findings; to create workshops and training programs for the general public to learn and appreciate these art and crafts forms and to facilitate international exchanges and projects. We are lucky to have advisors from across the globe who are experts in cultural management, design, arts production and marketing and event management. Come, get lost ……in a world of imagination and inspiration at Art@Anangpur. Photo credits Dr Stephen Huyler Panorama 1: Entrance to Art@Anangpur with a display of colourful West Bengal scrolls Panorama 2: Pottery by Bhuvnesh Prasad on display alongwith paintings by different folk and tribal artists. Panorama 3: The magnificent high ceilinged central performance arena with pottery by Bhuvnesh Prasad and paintings from different traditions such as Warli, Gond, Kalighat. Panorama 4: Interior shot of Art@Anangpur showcasing Anil Laul’s sustainable architectural principals such as use of waste materials and incorporation of existing rocks onsite. Anangpur 5: Details of the entrance – wood free seating in the form of brick and concrete benches. The mata-ni-pachedi cloth painting by Sanjay Chitara is an unusual one in beige and black eschewing the usual traditional multi-colour palette. Anangpur 6: Bhuvnesh Prasad a national award winning master craftsman has innovated on traditional pottery forms and has incorporated glazes in his work. Anangpur 7 & 8 Pushpa Kumari and Pradyumna Kumar, the eminent Madhubani artists conducting a workshop. Typically workshop sizes are small (8 to 10 people) so as to allow for direct and deep communication with the artist.

The Poetics and Politics of Indian Folk and Tribal Art

Issue #005, Summer, 2020 ISSN: 2581- 9410

Since childhood, I have been interested in the arts – coming from a family with a strong tradition in the arts and crafts, it was not surprising. Like most of my peers, during my school years, I did the rounds of museums and emporiums with my parents and during school trips. I also saw a lot of it in my home and stores that my family ran. While in the USA for my undergrad studies, I started “looking” at art – both there and here, in India, mostly via the Internet. On completing my graduation, I returned to India and joined the family business. Dealing in jewellery and handicrafts was fun but I wanted to do more and found myself drawn to the arts – particularly the contemporary genre of visual arts. More than anything else, my main draw was the interaction and conversations with artists, historians and curators that transported me back to the university atmosphere that I missed. I believe Art found me as it was rather unplanned and serendipitous that I found myself organizing art workshops for young inmates at Tihar Jail as well as visits by contemporary artists. The result was a first-of-its-kind exhibition with artworks by jail inmates and contemporary artists – all displayed together. The exhibition was a big success with a remarkable number of visitors, good press coverage and great feedback from the artists who said that visiting the prison was an unparalleled experience. The following year, I went on to work on another exhibition-project which explored the concept of Gandhi and entailed travelling with artists along the Dandi March route. This exhibition was also shown overseas in London, Washington D.C. and Port of Spain. After these two major exhibitions experiences, I started a permanent gallery space Ojas Art in 2006. I worked with some master artists and organised a few typical contemporary shows, all of which were great learning experience but did not really make me feel enriched. There was a paradigm shift in the kind and number of exhibitions to be put together. Art has a bigger social good is something that I grew up with as there were instances where I saw art at work in changing the lives of communities through the economic independence and sustainability that art provided. Also, the self-respect that the Tihar Jail inmates felt was gratifying for all of us who worked on the project. Coincidentally, I met some Gond artists at an exhibition in Delhi and really liked the artworks, which was followed by reading more on the subject and a visit to the Bharat Bhawan in Bhopal. The genre has thousands of years of recorded history and is probably the oldest surviving art form along with the Australian Aboriginal art. There was immense pedagogical material available on the history but not much on the current scene. Of course, there were other institutions in the vicinity that showed artworks and murals of the contemporary Gond artists but not much in terms of books, catalogues or other printed materials. There was not sufficient recorded contemporary history being created for these artists in comparison to their counterparts graduating from mainstream art schools in Delhi, Mumbai and Vadordra and showing in mainstream galleries. Also, the price-points varied greatly. Keeping commercial viability aside, I felt that the current/ contemporary tribal and traditional artists must get greater visibility and have exhibitions in galleries with catalogues and collectors who will be interested in acquiring their artworks at if not phenomenal but reasonable prices. With the above thoughts, we proposed a holistic concept the Ojas Art Award to the organisers of the immensely popular and well attended Jaipur Literature Festival. Since 2015, every year, indigenous artists are honoured at the festival along with a display of artworks in Jaipur with a potential audience of more than 250,000 visitors. This is followed by an exhibition and publication at our gallery in Delhi and an exhibition overseas. Ojas Art Award is now six editions old, and through the award we have explored Gond, Madhubani-Mithila, Bhil, Warli and Pattachitra of Bengal and Orissa. I think in the last six-seven years, I have gained immensely in terms of experience and it is immensely fulfilling to be recognised for my work.

The Poetics and Politics of Indian Folk and Tribal Art

Issue #005, Summer, 2020 ISSN: 2581- 9410

(Edited by Gustav Imam) The village mural painting tradition of Hazaribagh is a matriarchal one, and for this reason, it is considered a sacred tradition in an essentially matriarchal indigenous order. These wall paintings are considered auspicious, filled with symbols related to fertility and fecundity. These paintings on mud house walls are made by married women (Devis) only during the marriage and harvest seasons. The young woman in the tribes learns her designs from her mother and aunts when young and unmarried. When she is married and goes to her husband’s village, she will imbibe her mother-in-law’s rich traditions and a fusion will occur. There is no tradition of tribal women visiting rock art sites located in the hills near the villages, and this art tradition is an inherited one, carried from generation to generation in the village itself. Khovar and Sohrai are the two major art forms of the region and there are three major painting techniques- scraping with broken pieces of bamboo/combs or four fingers (sgraffito), painting with chewed twigs/ brush and filling colours using cloth swab (glyptic). The upper valley of the river Damodar in Jharkhand is almost exclusively the last remaining stronghold of this mural art in eastern India. The artwork associated with marriages is called Khovar after the bridal chamber (kho) and the bridegroom (var). It also refers to an ancestral cave dwelling origin, especially to the painted caves of the Mirzapur, Vindhyan, Vikramkhol and hills of Sundergarh in Odisha and Jharkhand complexes called Kohabara. Khovar is full of plant forms and fertility symbols which are perhaps older than the Chalcolithic mandalas which are a comparatively recent order in the rock-art. It is more deeply connected with a Palaeolithic tradition, i.e. Sariya, which is matriarchal and shamanistic. That is why the Godna or rock-art tattoos made on women’s bodies by women serve as protective emblems. In Hazaribagh, Godna is made by a Godnakari, the wife of the Malhar metal caster. Her husband also practices a sacred art-form in metal casting, essentially a Chalcolithic tradition. The highlight of Khovar art is the welcome of the bridegroom who is compared to Lord Indra on an elephant, surrounded by wild animals of the forest who are his companions and plants symbolizing fertility. Sohrai, the art associated with harvests is derived from the Mundaric word Soroi, meaning ‘to whip, or beat’, relating to cattle, and finds its root in Soro, meaning ‘to close the door’. It points to the first domestication of cattle in a Mundaric society. The highlight of the Sohrai festival is the welcoming of the household’s cattle which are taken to the jungle on the morning of the festival day and brought back at noon. The cattle are worshipped and anointed with oil and vermillion and a sheaf of wheat is hung from their horns. The lady of the house paints an aripan or floor drawing to welcome them, the motifs of which are reminiscent of rock art. This aripan is made with rice powder mixed in milk and consists of several mandalas in rows. At the head of the floor drawing a cone of clay with a sprig of grass is placed to represent the Mother Goddess. Clearly, Sohrai and Khovar mural painting traditions of Jharkhand are the continuing manifestations of the pre-historic cave paintings of the Damodar Valley ranges made by primitive ancestors and continuing into the present. They are found in the villages close to the painted cave shelters where the rock paintings are still found amid the stone age remains like stone tools from the Palaeolithic to the Microlithic and Neolithic age, and in this way, they resemble similar artistic traditions found elsewhere in the world, notably Catal Hoyuk on the Anatolian plateau in Turkey where enormous frescoes of bulls and other animals were painted six thousand years ago. The tradition of sculpting in relief, or drawing and painting animals was the first manifestation of early humans who were living close to nature in wild natural environments. At first, they painted their wild friends, and later their domesticated animals and birds, until man became further and further detached from wilderness and the images of wild birds and animals disappeared from his art. They were replaced by domestic animals and birds. In Khovar, the wall is covered with black earth (Kali-Mati) representing the Mother (Kali -the mother goddess, Mati- earth). This manganese rich black earth is then covered with a white clay layer and a comb is used to draw forms of the mother goddess. This is the earliest kind of writing (Likhna), and it is believed that even before speech had developed, fifty to a hundred thousand years ago, the earliest humans were communicating through signs. Thus forms were, and are, considered sacred. In Sohrai, the house is covered with yellow ochre earth, or Pila-mati. Pila means a child or a young one and mati means earth. Thus, Pila-mati means young earth. Yellow earth is the Palaeolithic strata of the earth in which stone tools of that period are found, in Hazaribagh region, as elsewhere. Pila or yellow is also the colour of the growing rice sheaves celebrated during the harvest festival, and these will mature and be cut within a fortnight or so after the festival. The houses are painted with large symbolic ritual forms painted in red, black and white colours. The red represents the blood of the ancestors, the white is painted with the last year’s rice ground with milk into gruel and represents food, and black represents the Mother Goddess, as this is still a strongly matriarchal society. Sohrai paintings are done in the villages during October- November and have various expressions. The geometric tradition of Chalcolithic rock paintings is continued among certain Kurmi tribal villages, whereas in other villages, a comb-cut sgraffito black and white art is practiced. The wide diversity of tribes and individual stylistic genesis has led to a vibrant Sohrai tradition deeply rooted in the Meso-Chalcolithic rock art tradition of the region. The painted art of the Kurmis of Bhelwara during the harvest festival has specific iconography related to Shiva in his role of Pashupati or Lord of Animals. The major motifs used are the Tree of Life and Shiva standing on the back of a stylized, spotted bull. Its prototype is also found in the region’s rock-art. The art is highly anthropomorphic in character. It is painted with natural earth ochre, in red, white and black on the yellow mud plaster of the village houses. In the Kurmi Sohrai of Bhelwara village Shiva appears in his original forms as a tribal god association with creation and destruction. All the houses wear the image of Shiva the creator, the Lord of Animals! In this we see the first deity after the mother goddess, whose form appears in every symbol of the art. Kurmis who live in the hills amidst deep and isolated forests decorate their houses with comb-cut (sgraffito) wild birds and animals like elephants and peacocks. Drawings of bulls and elephants with feeding troughs echo ancient Indus traditions. Some artisanal tribes like the potters (Prajapati), carpenters (Rana), oil extractors (Teli) also make similar auspicious decorations but with more floral and decorative motifs such as fish and cooking utensils. In comb art, the walls are first given a coating of manganese black and when this has dried they are coated with a light cream or yellow coat. When cut away with the comb, brilliant black patterns emerge on the white background. Corn husks dipped in white rice and milk gruel are used to stamp designs in rows to celebrate the harvest. Similar designs have been found in the Chalcolithic layer of rock-art, showing a connection between the agricultural-gathering stage around 4,000 BC. The village art being solely the work of women would raise questions about the authorship of the chalcolithic rock-art. The art of the Ganju and Turi tribes is much more animalistic and floral. Made with earth colours using cloth swabs, the bold outlines and lyrical forms speak of an erstwhile hunter-gatherer existence of the now settled tribes. During the winter, the women in the villages embroider quilts with the same auspicious designs seem in the wall murals. With the onset of the traditional marriage season from February to June, the houses are redecorated, especially the bridal rooms. The best examples of Khovar art are found during this time. Every village has its own distinctive style of Khovar, partly due to the availability of the various shades of clay used in the art which are locally procured from the hills near the villages. The technique of “finger painting” is practiced mainly by the Oraon, Munda and Bhuiya tribes after the monsoons, but not as much by the Kurmis. The Mundas paint the rainbow snake Borlung with the fingers. The Oraons paint floral designs and ancestor totems using the palm. The relationship between the anthropomorphic and zoomorphic forms seen in their earliest manifestation in the pre-Mesolithic rock-art shelters such as Saraiya reminds us of a hallucinatory art in the caves, often strange creatures associated with water and dark places. Many of these esoteric designs are found in highly stylized expressions in the rock paintings and are tattooed on the tribal women’s arms, legs, back, neck, chest, and face, by the godnakari. Both Khovar and Sohrai art are Parampara (traditions) wherein art-forms and information, both sacred and secular, pertaining to women’s worlds are handed down from generation to generation. They constitute perhaps some of the most fragile, beautiful and threatened indigenous traditions of India. Tribal women artists working with the Tribal Women Artists Project of INTACH in Hazaribagh were initially sponsored by the Australian High Commission (New Delhi) and the British High Commission (New Delhi) in the 1990s and have worked in India and abroad to create large murals in significant museums including the Power House Museum (Sydney), the Queensland Art Gallery, the Art Gallery of New South Wales, and the National Gallery of Canada (Ottawa). Their message has been to draw the world’s attention to the on-going century-long assault on forests, wildlife habitat and tribal villages by fossil fuel mining along the Damodar River. Today, both Sohrai and Khovar artworks have been made available exclusively through the Tribal Women’s Artists Cooperative (TWAC) which was founded by Bulu Imam in 1995, which markets these works of art on handmade paper through exhibitions in select galleries and venues around the world. These artworks have been widely exhibited in India and across the world with over sixty international exhibitions. A portion of the proceeds from sale of artworks return directly to the artists in the Cooperative, one-third to a welfare fund which supports the women artists and one-third for distribution of earth colours and motivation to keep painting the vanishing village mud houses.

Issue #006, Autumn, 2020 ISSN: 2581- 9410 Introduction – Is there a need to educate handloom weavers? Handloom weaving in India is extremely varied and diverse, having evolved over centuries. M.N. Upadhyay in his book Handicrafts of India famously wrote: “To write about Indian handicrafts is almost like writing about the country itself. So vast, complex, colourful, and yet with a simplicity and charm, difficult to attain under comparable conditions.” Despite being categorised as a “sunset industry,” weaving continues to employ 3.2 million individuals in India. However, reeling under the pressure of machine-made goods, the future of the sector, sadly, remains questionable. In the last decade alone, over a million weavers left the profession. But why this downward trend? Before the global pandemic, people envisioned a global wave of sustainable fashion and a burgeoning global handicrafts industry. The global handicrafts market was reportedly worth USD 663.9 billion in 2019[1], expanding at a rate of 11% annually, based on “consumer and company interest in sourcing locally produced artisan goods, greater international and domestic tourism, increased global interest in home decorating, and increased willingness to pay a premium for distinctive goods[2]. ” With such an optimistic demand report, why was the reality of the supply side so bleak? The answer lies in the way the traditional handloom market interfaces have historically functioned, and how they have responded to changing circumstances. Handloom production and marketing in India are deeply fragmented, predominantly controlled by middlemen along regional, technical, ethnic and even religious lines. Although middlemen have historically provided market linkages and credit support to weavers, their influence severely restricted weaver participation in business and trade negotiations. An alternate value chain exists in the form of public-private engagements, such as the Government of India’s “Make in India” initiative, which in the last decade has, to an extent, inspired designers and entrepreneurs to forge collaborative design interventions directly with craftspeople. However, public-private engagements in handloom have not been inclusive in their coverage. Market-driven approaches based on the growing global demand for Indian handloom textiles do not universally and equitably translate into meaningful employment for artisans. The more “glamorous” clusters, such as Varanasi and Phulia, become pockets of attention, while lesser known weaving clusters continue to remain undersubscribed. The majority of artisans remain unaware that they are a part of a much larger (business) community outside their cluster, state and country; despite the declining local demand effected by the rapid entry of powerlooms, they compete in shrinking local markets, ignorant of distant, more sustainable marketing avenues. This leads to ill-conceived myopic coping strategies, such as an increasing dependency on artificial fibres and naphthol-based dyes to compete with machine-made fabrics. The ramifications of an overcrowded local marketplace are seen in the severely declining wage rates across the sector. With average monthly payoffs from weaving in the range of USD 100 and USD 125, young weavers fail to associate the pride for their vocation of the past with its remuneration in the present. Given their exponentially growing aspirations, it is quite understandable that they view their traditional craft as unviable and unfashionable. The paradigm shift towards sustainable fashion and a growing demand for handloom textiles can effectively translate into an opportunity for weaving communities to build sustainable livelihoods provided that they gain cognizance of this opportunity and are equipped with the skills to directly participate in the mercurial landscape of global fashion. Herein lies the pressing need for education that empowers artisans to continue, grow and prosper in the handloom industry, with an evolved sense of pride for handloom as a respectable and financially remunerative vocation. Young Weaver Education – the Past and the Present The Sanskrit term Shruti, meaning sacred knowledge that is heard and verbally transmitted from generation to generation, used to describe the four Vedas, also represents an effective form of home schooling that was prevalent in India ages ago; it relied on the elders of the family instructing their progeny about their craft, and eventually passing the torch when the time was right. Elder handloom weavers were living archives of intricate, unique textile art. Training for young artisans happened at home under the tutelage of their elders; and, so, much like the Vedic literature, knowledge of weaving was transferred from generation to generation through observation and practice. To give an example, earlier it was common for weavers in Maheshwar to begin training their children as soon as their legs were “long enough to reach the treadles.” However, as weavers are increasingly disillusioned about the future of their craft, it is common nowadays for elder weavers themselves to dissuade their children from considering weaving as a career. “Who would want to bring their own daughters and sons onto a sinking ship?” asked Chhatrapati Nimje, a weaver from Balaghat, during a recent visit to The Handloom School in Maheshwar. The chain that once ensured that traditional knowledge was transmitted from father to son, from mother to daughter, has thus long since been disrupted. Moreover, with the changing business environment and demands of global markets, elders are not fully equipped to fulfil the role of teachers with the rigor and attention that they applied in the past. Young weavers need institutional education that can strengthen the skills that they inherit from their elders and enable them to pursue the opportunities of the present.

A scene from Women Weave’s Gudi Mudi Khadi unit Why a specialised curriculum? The purpose of elementary education is to provide a strong foundation on which traditional skills can be cultivated, updated and made more marketable. But the Indian school system has never quite shed its colonial mindset of promoting rote learning. Though there were efforts in the early twentieth century at vocationalization of education[3], these philosophies did not reach mainstream education, and the quality of education in “low-income” schools continued to be increasingly compromised. Reporting on the educational crisis in India today, Teach for India quotes – “more than 50% of students in Grade 5 cannot read a Grade 2 text or solve a simple subtraction problem.” Mired in its colonial influence, the public “low-income” school system has failed to provide “marketable skills” to its students that would enable them to pursue careers outside their traditional vocation, and has also done little to equip them with competencies that can help them sustain within their ancestral trade. If our formal school system had been effective in promoting practical occupational skills, respecting individualism and differential need of students, perhaps a specialized curriculum for weavers would not have been necessary. At present, though, it could not be more essential! The Handloom School – An Institution for Young Weavers by WomenWeave Believing that young weavers are capable of building sustainable livelihoods if given the requisite training support, access to networks and technology, WomenWeave setup The Handloom School in Maheshwar in 2015. The intent was to provide a rigorous practical education to young weavers from various clusters of India to bridge the gap between traditional skills and new competencies. The School offers a course titled Certificate in Design and Enterprise Management (CDEM), that provides young weavers with a multi-disciplinary learning experience that helps them meet global design and quality standards, increases confidence and respect for their profession, and revives old weaving traditions while meeting the needs of the contemporary marketplace.

The Handloom School’s first all-women fully residential batch featuring weavers from Arunachal, Nagaland, Chhattisgarh, Uttarakhand and Ladakh Every year The Handloom School accepts two “batches” of fifteen weavers in the age bracket of 18-30 years, carefully selected from various regions of India. The selected artisans are then inducted into a five and a half month intensive residential classroom segment at the School campus in Maheshwar. The School has always felt that the opportunity to live, learn and work with peers from other parts of the country is a transformative experience for these young weavers. It teaches them valuable lessons in tolerance, as they learn to not only accept, but also respect differences in cultures, values, beliefs and, most importantly, weaving traditions. It helps them grow as artisans and as individuals, and is as important as any of the modules of the curriculum. The second segment of the CDEM program is a three-day Buyer-Seller Meet, usually hosted in Delhi, to unveil the design collection developed by the graduating class and introduce them to potential clients in an effort to kick-start their business. This is followed by the off-campus segment, in which graduates are inducted into WomenWeave’s “Karghewale” program to provide them with critical market linkages in the formative years of their ventures. The “batch” size is intentionally kept small to achieve an optimum teacher-student ratio, and keep group interactions focused and intimate. Given that the School targets artisans who have been practicing their craft vocationally for at least two years, the course is not only offered free of charge, but the participants are also paid a daily stipend of Rs. 300 to compensate for the income that they forego in attending the course. The Curriculum The objective of the School is to promote an entrepreneurial spirit among young weavers. While doing so, it first seeks to honour the spirit of specific textile traditions, and then focuses on innovation and moving the craft forward in the textile industry. The research done by WomenWeave during the founding years of the School revealed four broad areas of study that a curriculum for young weavers must include to provide a seamless integration of traditional practices and cutting edge technology. These became the four modules of The Handloom School curriculum.

Dubachu and Tulsi during “Color Theory” workshop at The Handloom School

“Batch” 10 student, Rimti, working on her design project Design Historically artisans themselves were designers and “trend-setters,” and the name of a weaver was a brand in itself, on the basis of the high quality of the craftsmanship and individuality; artisans brought their design sense within the socio-cultural framework of their tradition to their creations. More recently, however, “design” came to be treated a separate discipline taught in specialized schools leading to a disassociation of the aspect of the designer from the identity of the artisan. The first and most critical component of the curriculum is, therefore, design. Design is critical to helping students discover their individual identity through self-expression and to developing confidence in their own abilities. Design thinking also cultivates a way of comprehension that is holistic and multidisciplinary, challenging students to take risks and problem-solve. Being acknowledged as, first and foremost, a designer restores a critical element of the artisan’s identity.

Students during a team building exercise at The Handloom School Business Management “Barefoot” Business Management is the component of the curriculum that engages students to examine the fundamentals of marketing, management and entrepreneurship. The module impresses upon young artisans the importance of production planning, controlling for defects, and proper costing methodology, to introduce a much needed professionalism to the craft sector. Communication Communication includes English as a second language, business writing and media communication. Another aspect of communication especially important for young artisans is presentation techniques: to be able to effectively present themselves, their work and their products to the audience, in the form of lookbooks or through social media. The key learning objective of this module is for students to understand the importance of having an identity that sets them apart or makes a good impression.

Radha, Madhu, Tehmeena and Sapna working on an IT for Business assignment Use of Information Technology for Business Both young artisans and their potential clients use social media, and all of them use a smartphone. Thus, information technology is considered a key component of the curriculum. Digital media and communications technology have created a revolution allowing the world to at least “seem smaller.” This module of the curriculum introduces the use of a computer, mobile devices and instructional software that enhances the acquisition of design, communications and business skills. The Handloom School also believes that a curriculum for young weavers must acquaint students with the various dualities extant in craft and develop their capabilities to balance these dualities to help them further their craft in the modern business environment. An example of a duality in handloom is whether to view defects as sign of low quality or as a mark of authenticity. It is well-established that “‘defects’ in hand-crafted products are paradoxically celebrated as idiosyncratic signs of the presence of the hand and thus the exclusivity of product, in addition to being a sign of low quality and inconsistency[4]. ” Students must be able to differentiate between a prevalent defect that can be addressed and an inconsistency that is a signature feature of their craft and needs to be retained. Another such paradox is the balance that artisans have to maintain between receiving the correct value of their efforts and pricing the product competitively for the market. Karl Marx defined the value of a commodity by the amount of labour embodied in its manufacturing. Devaluing a product due to the forces of the market was therefore akin to devaluing human effort. For example, if the price of a stole falls by USD 5, it implies that the weaver’s labor is suddenly worth less now than it was a while ago. Similarly, it is imperative that artisans learn to operate in a market that urges them to be flexible to respond to modern tastes, and also values their products based on their ethnicity. These are fine lines that artisans have to walk every day, and if the curriculum allows for them to reflect upon such dichotomies it helps them enhance the understanding of their craft and the market. Above all, institutional education provides an invaluable space of learning and experimentation beyond the rigours of daily livelihood concerns. The curriculum of The Handloom School is meant to allow students the space to make mistakes, to explore designs, textures and products, first as an end in itself, without constraints, and then with a specific market and audience in mind. Stories from The Handloom School While The Handloom School tries to cultivate an entrepreneurial mindset among young artisans, that does not imply only fostering entrepreneurs. Not everyone can and will become an entrepreneur. In fact, an assessment of the lives of the alumni of the School after graduation reveals three clear trajectories: entrepreneurs- graduates who went on to setup their own independent enterprise, “intra-preneurs”- graduates who manage and coordinate design, production and marketing activities in another’s business, and professional weavers. More than simply creating artisan entrepreneurs, the objective of entrepreneurial education for weavers is to empower young artisans to understand the industry they operate in, the challenges they are likely to face and the opportunities on offer, to understand the potential of their craft, and to be able to make choices about their future path from a position of strength and not a position of threat. Here we discuss some of the more entrepreneurial graduates of The Handloom School to try and identify a pattern in their individual stories, and determine a list of “catalysts” for young weaver entrepreneurship after institutional education.

Nitin Goud explaining his signature Garbh Reshmi sari to Laila Tyabji during the “Batch” 9 Buyer-Seller Meet in Delhi The first visible pattern is that a majority of the budding entrepreneurs have brought a degree of innovation and individualism to their products. One such example from Maheshwar is Nitin Goud, a graduate of the eighth “batch” of the School. As part of his graduation project, Nitin did an individual take on the traditional Garbh Reshmi sari of Maheshwar, which has all but been replaced by a newer iteration of the Maheshwari sari called Neem Reshmi. Garbh Reshmi lost favour with the master weavers due to its complex warp sizing process, and the fact that there are only two surviving ladies from the Salvi community of Maheshwar who still know that technique. Nitin’s focus was to try and simplify some of these complexities and arrive at a design that was easier to produce while still evoking the spirit of the Garbh Reshmi sari. Nitin’s version of the Garbh Reshmi was one of the stars of his batch’s Buyer-Seller Meet, and helped him launch his own business where he works with ten weavers from Maheshwar. A second generation weaver, Nitin has emerged as one of the most prolific young weaver-designers, who through his innovations, was able to continuously provide employment to his partners throughout the COVID-19 lockdown. Marwada Vinu Bhanji of Kotay, Kutch, Gujarat, is another graduate who has made individualism in design his forte. After graduating from The Handloom School in 2015, he set up his own handloom shop at his village, where he produces and sells traditional Kutchi designs with a “twist,” employing irregular denting techniques, amongst other innovations. Apparently, the inspiration for his signature denting came to him during a photography workshop at the School. His shop is very popular with tourists because of his ability to converse in English, and the shop’s traditional yet unique offerings. Another indicator that emerges from this study is the role of institutional presence and support in starting an enterprise. Mustafa and Hussain are from Mubarakpur, Uttar Pradesh, and were participants of the second “batch” of The Handloom School. After graduation, they went on to successfully manage two SHGs comprising ten weavers each. They market their products under the brand name of “Mubarakpur Weaves.” In their efforts to promote their SHGs, they received promotional and marketing support of AIACA. One of the earliest young weaver groups from Maheshwar was a group of five Ansaris – Nasir, Wasim, Aasif, Mujammil and Rahat – who call themselves “Fabcreations.” The five boys were part of the “Young Weavers” program of WomenWeave in 2012, a pilot phase of The Handloom School. During the formative years of “Fabcreations” WomenWeave acted as an agency to negotiate credit for the group from yarn vendors and dyers, and to promote “Fabcreation” products through exhibitions. “Fabcreations” today provides employment to more than fifty weavers in Maheshwar. The financial status of graduates’ families and the consequent risk-taking ability is also a clear enabler of enterprise formation. Graduates from families with better financial standing, or with elder sibling(s) to support the family have found it easier to start their own enterprises. Prakash Dewangan from Champa, Chhattisgarh is a graduate of the fourth “batch” of The Handloom School. When Prakash joined the School, his brother was already running a unit with five looms, which Prakash was then able to expand to employ more than twenty weavers from his village. Arun Vankar from Kotay, Kutch, Gujarat, a first “batch” graduate of the School, has a similar story. His father Meghjibhai Vankar is a National Awardee. Arun has been vocal about his father’s role in inspiring him to start his own business and cushioning him from the financial risks of setting up a new venture after his graduation from the School. Other identified “catalysts” include geographical location and presence of likeminded peers in the vicinity. Graduates located in a town or village that has a distinct product find it easier to start their own businesses. Similarly, presence of other graduates from The Handloom School or similar institutions in their purlieu has been conducive to enterprise formation, especially since the School does not have a single geographical focus. This has given the School a reason to believe that a certain critical mass of weavers within a geographical cluster has to be educated to enable enterprise either individually or collectively.

Sunil Vankar during the “Batch” 10 Buyer-Seller Meet in Delhi

The Handloom School graduates walk the runway along with their designer partners at the end of their Amazon India Fashion Week 2017 event Conclusion – What lies ahead for craft-based academic institutions It has been encouraging to see education for young weavers getting the importance that it is due. Antaran (an initiative promoted by Tata Trusts) has been instrumental in demonstrating a viable model for scaling up efforts of institutional education to reach a larger number of weavers without comprising on quality. Such an “overhaul” was probably necessary keeping in mind the staggering numbers, even with the rate of migration away from the vocation. However, if a key objective of education for young handloom weavers is to inspire and promote artisan entrepreneurship, our study indicates that it seems inevitable that an educational institution for young weavers cannot just remain an academic space. It will have to broaden its directive to include relevant and strong graduate support systems. Patterns emerging from the trajectories of weavers graduating from The Handloom School suggest that not all graduates can set up an enterprise immediately; however, handholding facilitated by the institution, directly or through other organizations, helps stabilise income, which, in turn, offers the opportunity for individual or collective enterprise. Above all, it is imperative that an academic institution for young weavers respects the plurality of its students and allows the space for all artisans to find their own identity. This becomes more challenging with the unit size and heterogeneity of the “batch.” Academic institutions for artisans have their work cut out for them for the next decade. If their theory of change holds true, they will be creating a nationwide network of young empowered artisan-designer-entrepreneurs who will act as true custodians of their craft, and uplift the textile industry as a whole. References 1. IMARC Group, “Handicrafts Market: Global Industry Trends, Share, Size, Growth, Opportunity and Forecast 2020-2025”, July, 2020 2. The Aspen Institute, 2012, The Alliance for Artisan Enterprise: Bringing Artisan Enterprise to Scale, viewed 22 August, 2020, from https://assets.aspeninstitute.org/content/uploads/files/content/images/Alliance%20for% 20Artisan%20Enterprise%20Concept%20Note_0.pdf 3. Clifford, R, 2018, “Challenging hierarchies, enhancing capabilities: Innovations in design and business education for handloom weavers in India”, PhD thesis, Nottingham Trent University 4. Goldsmith, D, 2018, “WomenWeave Daily: ‘Artisan Fashion’ as ‘Slow and Sustainable Fashion’”, PhD thesis, Department of Textile Management, University of Boras

Endnotes 1. Handicrafts Market: Global Industry Trends, Share, Size, Growth, Opportunity and Forecast 2020-2025" report 2. Alliance for Artisan Enterprise 2012 3. Notable figures such as C. Rajagopalachari suggested elementary education for ‘occupational castes’ three days a week and two weekdays devoted to family apprenticeship, as well as crafts to be introduced in the curriculum. 4. R. Clifford 2018

Mary A. Littrell and Judy Frater Artisan participation in the global fashion industry engenders debate. Ashoke Chatterjee (2007), an internationally respected leader for craft development in India, observes that Indian politicians and international development leaders question whether craft sector employment is a “fringe, feel-‐good activity unrelated to power and economic vitality” (12). In response, Chatterjee warns that “crafts offer India the only sustainable answer to its need of job opportunities for a population that has crossed one billion”(12). Long-‐time craft administrators, Maureen Liebl and Tirkander Roy, express concern about the potential for global appropriation of intellectual property held in artisan industries—enterprises that draw upon deeply enmeshed cultural knowledge and production creativity (Liebl and Roy 2004; Liebl 2005). In order to meet the demands of the constantly changing global fashion market, designers often borrow from the Indian textile design traditions of a particular region or ethnicity, and then de-‐ethnicize and exploit the traditions. Yet, as artisans lose their local markets for handcrafts to machine produced and cheaper alternatives, income generation through participation in the global fashion market may serve as a critical precursor to cultural asset protection and continued evolution (Liebl and Roy 2004). Nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) provide yet another perspective. NGO leaders argue that participation in artisan enterprise holds potential for human capability development as catalyst for change. Robert Chambers (1997), an international development scholar and practitioner, places capability development as a core first step for development. Enhanced capabilities contribute to improved livelihood through a dependable source of cash and food to meet basic needs, and to eventual social, psychological, and spiritual well-being. Artisan enterprise research is a multidisciplinary endeavor. Scholars from anthropology, development studies, economics, fashion studies, history, philosophy, and sociology, have described a number of critical issues for artisan development.' Scholars have examined topics such as urban vs. rural lifestyles; artisans' gender, ethnic, national, and global identities; enterprise organization and leadership; internal vs. externally driven product development; and artisan's cultural property as they bear on the global craft market. In this chapter we compare and contrast two Indian artisan enterprises operating in the global fashion market, both of which offer insights into development issues raised by scholars as identified above. Through a comparison and contrast approach, we provide insights into commonalities shared by artisans in the global fashion market. At the same time the cases offer opportunity to examine the particularities of context that contribute to differentiation in their enterprise approaches and impacts. The first enterprise, Kala Raksha Trust (Kala Raksha), operates in a number of ethnic- and caste-distinct rural villages in the Kutch region of Gujarat. The Kala Raksha business office, museum, a retail shop, and a production facility are in Sumrasar, a village of 7,500 people located 25 km from Bhuj city. Members produce apparel, accessories, and household textiles that are designed within a context of longstanding traditional embroidery styles. These traditional arts serve as launching points as well as potential constraints to the artisans' participation in the global fashion market. Kala Raksha products are marketed in India and abroad. The second group, MarketPlace: Handwork of India (MarketPlace), is an urban enterprise with workshops located in several Mumbai slums and a central office in the Santa Cruz East area of the city. Most MarketPlace artisans, upon marriage, have migrated to Mumbai from various regions across India. As is common in Mumbai slums, the artisans work together in workshops of multiple religions, ethnicities, and castes (Boo 2012). MarketPlace produces apparel, accessories, and household items exclusively for the US market. In contrast to Kala Raksha, MarketPlace artisans do not bring Indian art traditions to their work. Rather, they have been taught sewing, embroidery, and business skills for producing apparel that is India-inspired but not rooted in the textile traditions of a singular geographic region. These groups were selected as they offered an opportunity to examine two organizations with over twenty year histories in the same country, yet they operate from rural and urban contexts. Both are active in the global market. In addition, the two authors have been closely involved with the two groups. The first author's initial interaction with MarketPlace centered on marketing and design issues; engagement eventually expanded to a three-year social audit of impacts from artisan work with MarketPlace (Littrell and Dickson 2010)2 The second author offers day-to-day lived experience with Kala Raksha as a co-founder and as collaborator/marketer with the artisans at venues in India and abroad, and catalyst and active leader for the design school.³ In organizing the chapter, scholarship that informed our analysis is presented in the next section. This is followed by the two case studies, each of which begins with a description of a fashion show that serves as a metaphor for the organizations' goals and outcomes. Discussion follows on the cultural context in which each group originated and operates, the founders' backgrounds and motivations, organizational structures and operations, and current outcomes and issues. In the final section of the chapter we compare and contrast the organizations for capability acquisition and application, acquisition of cultural knowledge, organizational evolution, and future involvement in the global fashion market. Scholarly Grounding Two theoretical frameworks provided insight for conceptualizing and evaluating development of the two enterprises (Robeyns 2005). The work of Sen (1980, 1993) and Nussbaum (2000) proved useful in understanding the opportunities (capabilities) and outcomes (achieved functionings) of individuals in the artisan groups. In contrast, Handy et al. (2006) offered a framework for assessing, at an organizational level, how the enterprises have evolved in relation to their goals. These overarching frameworks allowed us to assess Kala Raksha and MarketPlace development in relation to many of the issues that have been described by artisan scholars. Human Capabilities The capability approach, pioneered by Amartya Sen and Martha Nussbaum for comparative appraisal of development, has resulted in extensive interdisciplinary discussion (Robeyns 2005). The scholars differentiate between means and ends, or capabilities and functioning. Conceptualizing capabilities as "means," Nussbaum(2000) describes, "instead of asking about people's satisfactions, or how much in the way of resources they are able to command, we ask, instead, about what they are actually able to do or be" (12). Capabilities are viewed as an opportunity set for achievable functioning that is influenced by social context, including cultural norms as well as the social institutions of which individuals are a part. Functionings demonstrate the end applications or outcomes of the capabilities. Nussbaum (2000) has proposed a list of central, interconnected human functional capabilities (see Table 1). She asserts that the capabilities approach provides not only an orientation for measuring quality of life but also "can serve as the foundation for constitutional guarantees to which nations should be held by their citizens" (2000, 298). Her list has not been without it challengers who critique the value of a universal list, given cultural and societal differences. However, Nussbaum (2000) counters, If we agree that all citizens are worthy of concern and respect...then we ought to conclude that politics should not treat people as agents or supporters of other people, whose mission in the world is to execute someone else's plan of life. It should treat each of them as ends, as sources of agency and worth in their own right, with their own plans to make and their own lives to live, therefore as deserving of all necessary support for their equal opportunity to be such agents (58). (Place Table 1 here) High Impact NGOs Handy, et al. (2006) draw from their research with 20 Indian NGOs to propose a model of high-impact, female NGOs. High impact is reached when an NGO is raising women's awareness in a holistic way, so that they are not only educated, healthy, or able to run a micro-financed enterprise, but that she can eventually effectively navigate the way in the socio-cultural environment in which she functions. Such empowerment .. . depends largely on the development of the capacity to exercise a certain amount of control over the social, economic, and political conditions that determine her life (130). The researchers isolated three central concepts useful for our assessment—female leadership in a solely or largely female NGO, vertical integration, and generational activities. In high impact NGOs, female leaders passionately promoted social justice and gender equality through collective, inclusive, and consensus-building approaches to organizational development. In vertical integration, an NGO sequentially added programs and services to complement the original core activity and, through multiplier effects, promoted holistic development by "catering to the whole woman" (162). Generational activities referred to organizational evolution in how an NGO helped its members (Korten, 1987). First generational activities provided for basic human needs, often in response to a crisis or disaster. Over time, the organization progressed into higher generational activities that fostered capacity building, advocacy, decision making, and inter-NGO networking for promoting a broader social vision of human development. Such generational growth was organic in nature, evolving from grass-roots participation and discussion in the field (Handy, et al. 2006). Kala Raksha Trust The bright lights of the fashion show ramp were just dimming and the energy under the stars was high. A TV reporter zoomed in to interview a Kala Raksha founder in the wake of the fifth Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya fashion show. "But how much progress have you made?" he asked. "These artisans are still wearing their village dress up there on the stage." Little did he know that in everyday life, these artisans wore the latest local fashion. They had deliberately worn traditional dress for the show as an expression of pride in their identity. In fact, it was significant progress (Frater's field notes, December, 2011). The twenty-first century crashed into Kutch. In January 2001, a massive earthquake devastated this historically isolated, drought prone district. Suddenly it was inundated with a wave of individuals and organizations intending to offer shelter, health care, and rehabilitation. Struck with the rich craft traditions, many relief workers saw opportunity, and began cultural industries. Designers came for "design intervention." While designers and entrepreneurs wanted to work with traditions, the first thing they wanted to do was appropriate them. The commercialization of craft traditions began in Kutch in the 1960s. For Kutchi women, it was a viable option. In many traditional societies, social constraints prohibit women from going out to earn through manual labor such as construction, agricultural, or drought relief work. Lack of education precluded other livelihoods. Embroidery could be integrated with essential household work. But few alternatives for earning meant little negotiating power, and embroidery usually earned less than manual labor. The social status of an artisan was commensurate. The embroidery that many ethnic communities had stitched for centuries was never assigned commercial value. However, it was recognized as a cultural asset. Traditional embroidery was created for social exchange, as gifts to children, family, the fiancé, and in-laws. Often, embroidery was received before the bride was met, so it introduced her, demonstrating her creativity, intelligence, and love (Frater 2010). Above all, embroidery proclaimed identity. In traditional South Asian society, a person first belongs to a region, then an ethnic community, a family, and finally is an individual. Embroidery styles eloquently expressed this cultural identity (Frater 1995). Far more than technique, traditions were design languages comprising stitches, colors, motifs, patterns, and composition, and each was understood as cultural property. An artisan understood where and how she could vary her work. Innovation within this context breathed the essential life into a tradition. Tradition and Fashion Styles evolved over time. But localization of trends insured that visual expression of group affiliation remained clear (Frater 2003). Fashion came to Kutch with the advent of synthetic fabrics, increased mobility, and spiraling inflation. Fashion's rate and extent of change, duration of trend, sphere of influence, and sense of volition were distinctly different from those of tradition. Indirectly, commercial embroidery enabled local fashion. By the 1990s, NGOs and traders were providing work to hundreds of artisans. Women had less time for their own handwork, but they now had the power to purchase. This motivated innovations such as application of ready-made trims, machine embroidery, and the use of new materials. Each embroidery style followed a course of its own. Yet each retained cultural integrity, and the distinctions between styles remained clear as ever. In turn, fashion began to directly impact traditional embroidery. Commercial work targeted urban and international markets. Professional designers intervened to make embroidery "less ethnic," manipulating motifs, pattern, and colors with little knowledge or interest in styles. Emulating the industrial model—faster, cheaper and more uniform—designers printed patterns and had women fill them in with embroidery. Concept was separated from execution. Traditions were diluted. Personal identity and creativity were out of the question. Deeply aware of their position in the social hierarchy, artisans were not accustomed to critiquing such situations. They were in awe of power and grateful to get work. Prakash Bhanani, Co-Founder of Kala Raksha explains, Artisans never thought of doing work for commerce, and they had no access to the results of their work. But when they learned that traders were earning very well from their embroidery, they felt they had underpriced themselves. This taught artisans to value their traditions. Community members who understood business then tried to take advantage of traditional work too! But the concept of intellectual property had not occurred to artisans. They don't have the luxury or the perspective to think of their traditions in this way. Simultaneously, commercialization insidiously eroded the artisans' sense of aesthetics and self-worth. Perfected, decorative renditions of tradition were selling as fashion. So, artisans felt these were "better." Young women were beginning with commercial embroidery and did not enjoy a deep connection to traditions. Embroidery became a matter of aesthetic, and cultural identity was devalued. Enter Kala Raksha In 1990, when Judy Frater was researching suf embroidery on a Fulbright grant, Dayaben, a suf embroiderer, asked her, "Why are you studying us? Why don't you help us?" Dayaben changed Frater's perspective from concern for cultural heritage to realization that fair wages might enable traditions to continue. Dayaben, her brother Prakashbhai, and Frater all shared a vision of artisans engineering their own economic and social development through their heritage. Together they founded Kala Raksha in 1993, taking the challenge to create work with cultural integrity for the contemporary fashion market. Kala Raksha began with $1,000 from Aid to Artisans to start a museum to serve as a resource base, and RS 13,000 ($433) from a Ford Foundation project. In seventeen years, the Trust grew from 25 artisans to over 1,000, and increased its sales by forty-four times. Kala Raksha's greater successes are harder to quantify. Women quietly broke social barriers as their income became significant. They traveled to cities in India to sell their work. More controversial, they went out locally, to bazaars and to the Kala Raksha center. They learned to read, sign their names, and keep accounts. Kala Raksha used local resources as a strategy for building the organization. They established a museum of older traditional textiles and developed products by engaging artisans to innovate from its collections. They hired community members as staff and expanded using local networks. But Kala Raksha's key asset and resource was cultural heritage. The leaders understood traditions as core entities rather than means to an end. They sought to mobilize these unique aesthetic identities. This valuation of traditional knowledge and skills activated creativity. Nearly every development within the organization has come from artisan initiative. Hariyaben demanded fair payment, thus founding artisan pricing committees. Raniben fashioned tiny elephants and camels out of workshop scraps, initiating a recycled line. Pabiben sampled what has become a best-selling ribbon bag based on new Dhebaria fashion. Fashion and Cultural Identity in the New Millennium Meanwhile, money, exposure, and new fashion accelerated changes in cultural identity. Aware of the urban-rural divide, village girls no longer wanted to wear their traditional dress. Women substituted traditional fabrics with synthetic replicas, and soon preferred ethnic-neutral polyester prints for skirts, blouses, and veils. Ethnic community differences in dress began to blur. Most significant, fashion, increased possibility, and choice—coupled with the revolution of the cell phone—altered the hierarchy of identity. The concept of the individual emerged. Kala Raksha in the New Millennium The earthquake of 2001 and its aftermath of cultural industries jolted Kala Raksha to reflect on its goals. Competition in the production craft market had increased, and the labor wages of industries that had proliferated in the region lured artisans. Kala Raksha realized that despite so much effort, the wages and social status of artisans were still equated with labor. Yet artisans' innovations within their own traditions demonstrated vibrancy and the ability to define and fulfill a design brief. The founders were clear that income could not justify the loss of cultural heritage; empowerment must be cultural as well as economic. They knew that they needed to find alternatives to the industrial development model, and to take into account cultural property—not only skills but also knowledge, and transfer these important assets to new arenas. They returned to the challenge of increasing value for handwork, with the understanding that the artist is the steward of tradition. Enter KRV In 2005, Kala Raksha founded Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya (KRV), the first design school for artisans, as a sustainable solution for the survival of craft traditions. The school's premise is that if artisans themselves design, this will insure the thread of integrity—and raise their income and status. The venture multiplied Kala Raksha's visibility and capacity. A network of excellent contacts within and outside India grew. The Trust received financial and human resource support from all over the world. As of 2011, ninety-nine artisans have graduated from the year-long program. Local orientation and sustained input have insured its success. Visiting faculty-professional designer educators, work with local permanent faculty to utilize Kutchi language and culture. The curriculum guides artisans to appreciate the unique aspects of their traditions in the context of the world. Artisans have expanded their cultural knowledge about the global market by learning to segment markets and to interpret and evoke trend forecasts. Each artisan makes a final collection, which is juried by craft and design professionals and presented in a fashion show with a public attendance in the thousands. The fashion show has highly motivated the artisans, and has been an important instrument in educating the public to think about craft and artisans in other ways. In 2010, Kala Raksha launched the concept Artisan Design, a trademark to certify that a product is an artisan's own creative innovation. The Impact of Kala Raksha Working with Kala Raksha has changed artisans' attitudes. First, artisans gained pride in being an artisan, simply through earning. Pride in tradition and cultural identity followed. In interviews, artisans who graduated from Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya described their capacity to create and their prerogative to collaborate. Harkhuben- "After I completed the course and participated in two Kala Raksha design workshops, I realized what I had learned. It was easy and fun to develop new designs. If we want our art to flourish, this is the way we must go!" Deviben: "I only went to 4th grade, but now I feel educated. I learned how to talk. I was able to correct what the Mentor wrote! We can correct each other because we have reached a level of education." The Vidhyalaya's year of design exploration focuses on craft as fashion. When craft is fashion, concept and execution are reunited. Kala Raksha artisans have begun to develop their unique expressions within traditions and own their work. When Kala Raksha receives an order for Sajnuben's embroidered ornaments, she wants to embroider them herself. Babraben says of her award winning quilt, "No one else can do my work" (See Figure 3). The cultural evolution of a stronger individual identity created a space for the concept of intellectual property. The concept Artisan Design eventually accesses intellectual property to raise income and respect above the level of manual labor. Current Issues and a Look to the Future Whereas Kala Raksha artisans felt helpless to address appropriation of cultural heritage, the issue of protection of one's designs emerged with the concept of intellectual property. Aware of their creative input, artisans have become indignant when a new design is copied. In the realm where a new design can net important orders, authorship becomes a matter of livelihood. Value for creative work is the central issue. Both cultural heritage and intellectual property require marketing to create awareness and value. Kala Raksha's challenges now are to reach markets that appreciate and value products with cultural integrity, and to equip artisans to tap cultural heritage most appropriately. The T.V. reporter's question about village dress on the stage was rooted in the assumption that tradition is old fashion—even anti-fashion. The graduates of Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya consciously began the custom of wearing traditional dress on the ramp with their collections. Artisans no longer have to wear this dress. But when they have knowledge and design skills, can create from their traditions for the global market, earn a decent wage, and become recognized, they can pay respect to their cultural heritage. Taking traditional dress to the stage, they are taking a big step toward establishing a relationship between fashion and cultural identity. MarketPlace: Handwork of India Amid fashion show runway lights and before an audience of two hundred, eleven artisans adopt a model's prance as they enter on stage in MarketPlace's western attire. Some wear jeans with the garments while others add western-style blouses and accessories. The women, young and old, have combed their hair in pony tails and flowing locks, a contrast to their usual neck buns and braids. The audience enthusiastically supports their fellow artisans who are showcasing, with pride, the garments they produce on a daily basis. The occasion marks the 2011 launching of a book that chronicles the artisans' transformed lives across 25 years as they built MarketPlace into a global enterprise that produces for the U.S. market. As the fashion show winds down, the models return to their richly embellished, special-occasion saris, garments they would not have afforded prior to their involvement with MarketPlace (Littrell's field notes, January, 2011). Confidence, self-respect, and group affiliation—all qualities conveyed by the runway artisans—seem far removed from women's lives in MarketPlace's early days of the 1980s. Extreme poverty, chronic family illness, malnutrition, and the determination to support and educate their young children drove the women's search for work. In contrast, the lives of the MarketPlace founders, Pushpika Freitas and Lalita Monteiro, differed in striking ways from the women with whom they would initiate MarketPlace. The sisters had grown up in a Mumbai family of modest means but with parents who insisted on educating their daughters. In 1980, Pushpika returned to India from the US with a Master's degree in Social Work and ready to apply development strategies that encouraged women to achieve economic self-sufficiency in their lives. Pushpika was well-aware of the challenges they would face in establishing an artisan enterprise in the global fashion market. Women in the slums had limited formal education and little experience in expressing opinions or taking initiative. Many women were confined to their homes due to religious practices, or because husbands and in-laws did not believe women should be outside the home (Littrell and Dickson 2010). Beginning with three women, the fledgling MarketPlace organization concentrated on making patchwork products and learning embroidery skills. As Pushpika elaborated, Hand embroidery is crucial to our mission. Most of the women, when they started had to be trained in hand embroidery. However, they needed to earn a living immediately and a long training period was out of the question. So, in the beginning the hand embroidery designs were simple but added a unique touch to the garments. Over time, the early patchwork products evolved into today's fashionable, western-style apparel, accessories, and household items, all with aesthetic links to Indian textile traditions. Two hallmarks distinguish MarketPlace "India inspired" products. The base fabric is hand-produced through dyeing, printing, or weaving, techniques native to India, but not necessarily to the artisans practicing them. Striking points of interest are added through embroidered embellishment (See Figure 4). Embroidery follows the easy-to-see lines in the fabric motifs, as many artisans embroider by single overhead light-bulbs in their homes. Products are sold in the U.S. through a catalog, placement in specialty stores, and the internet. Across its twenty-five years, MarketPlace has held steadfast to their founding objectives. While the means to reach the objectives have evolved, MarketPlace founders remain committed that artisans are paid fair wages, have opportunities to acquire business and entrepreneurial skills that enhance their self-worth and respect, and are empowered as individuals to identify and address the social issues affecting their lives and the community around them. Essential characteristics of the MarketPlace approach include grassroots participation in making business decisions and leadership development through working in groups. Working at Home From the beginning, MarketPlace leaders listened to the women and their needs in establishing an organizational structure. From conversations, they realized that some women, usually those who were younger or unmarried, were able to leave their homes to work in a centralized workshop for an extended period of time. Others with significant household responsibilities needed to carry out much of their work within the home. MarketPlace's flexible work structure honors the context of the artisan's lives. Younger women assemble the garments on sewing machines that are housed at workshops in the slums. The garments are then distributed to artisans who walk to the workshops to collect the products, attend training, and participate in meetings. Returning home, the artisans embellish the surfaces while carrying out their household tasks. A Critical Change MarketPlace was founded as a single production unit, which served many important functions in the early days—developing systems for streamlining production and time management, working with cash flow, establishing quality and delivery standards, and developing an organizational identity (Littrell and Dickson 1999). As the organization grew to over 175 women in the mid-1990s, and as more women were capable of assuming leadership roles, MarketPlace became top-heavy with supervisors. Pushpika assessed that the organization had lost sight of its mission to help all women with business and personal decision making and leadership development. Decentralization into smaller workshops was in order. By early 2000, seven groups, scattered in several slums across Mumbai, had taken the challenge to form independent business groups that now serve as contractors with the MarketPlace central office. With decentralization, groups bid for orders to produce the twice yearly apparel lines. Preceding the bidding, Indian and US apparel designers plan the product lines around a set of seasonal colors and garment styles. Next, the seven group leaders meet to discuss the impending order; production is contracted based on the group's size and expertise related to the season's garment features. Skills acquired through MarketPlace training come into action as artisans plan the season's production based on number of group members, artisans' speed in production, and projected delivery date. Artisans source supplies at sites across Mumbai, cut fabric and sew products, conduct quality control, maintain workshop records, and deliver finished goods to the main office—often involving considerable bus and train travel across the city. The women's new business capabilities evolved into cultural knowledge for conducting business in a Mumbai slum and in the larger city of Mumbai. Workshop leaders were becoming successful business leaders. This model of widespread artisan participation in workshop decision making promotes active engagement in leadership development. The model contrasts sharply with a system where artisans serve merely as workers as they passively fulfill garment orders directed by top-level managers. Becoming Strong Women As with many artisan groups worldwide, programs for economic empowerment and social capacity development are integrated. To illustrate MarketPlace's social thrust, women regularly gather at the workshops to discuss an evolving array of important issues in their lives. Health concerns dominated early dialogue. More recently, legal issues surfaced surrounding women's property rights, domestic violence, and divorce. As the women acquired leadership skills, each group was encouraged to explore ways they could create impact in their communities by identifying a problem and brainstorming for solutions. Social action projects have centered on preventive medical practices, removal of trash in the slums, and communicating with teenagers. Through the group discussions and social action projects, women have gradually acquired cultural knowledge of life beyond their one-room homes in the slums. As community problems evolve, new social action projects emerge, as Pushpika describes, The women have decided that domestic violence is becoming an even bigger problem that it was in the past. They are writing and performing street plays to bring the problem out in the open. The plays show abused women that they are not alone and it is not their fault. By acting out domestic abuse and violence, they are able to illustrate the first signs of abuse and the different methods used by the abuser to exert control. When acting in front of their neighbors, friends, and family, artisans may be looking at the audience and recognizing some abusers or women who are abused. Despite everything their determination remains strong. Impacts and Challenges While working at MarketPlace, the women acquire a broad range of new skills that range from speaking up in meetings, to communicating on the telephone, using public transportation, and taking responsibility when the workshop supervisor is away. The women cite their "ability to support other women" as one of their most important new assets. Initially, many felt isolated and were unaware that other women were suffering similar problems of mental and physical abuse. Women's comments that "I can talk about anything here" or "I had no one to talk with before I came here" speak to the relief the women feel at the workshops and to the capabilities they have acquired for supporting other women in similar circumstances. As women become active in the workshops, they assist each other in communicating openly, garnering self-respect, and becoming leaders—all assets of strong women that have application both within and outside the workshops. Within their homes, their influence as decision makers has broadened to significant involvement in deciding the number of the children they bear, which schools their children attend, their children's activities, and their daughter's marriage age and choice of husband. In addition, the women assessed that they gained greater respect from neighbors, in-laws, and husbands. In another application, three of the artisans have used their business and production skills to establish Indian Roots, an entrepreneurial off-shoot company that uses rejected or leftover MarketPlace fabrics to produce a line of fashionable apparel for the local Indian market. As they meet and talk with their local customers, the entrepreneurs adjust styles to meet customer demand for the Indian Roots product line. In summary, one artisan, a member of MarketPlace for nineteen years, reflects on how her life has changed. Entering an arranged marriage at age 15, the artisan bore her first daughter at age 16. Education was not a priority and she left school after the 5th grade. The artisan assesses, Looking back, the most important thing I have learned through my work is independence—to think for myself, to look at all sides before making a decisions and to consider all the possible outcomes a decision could have. I recently became the production manager of my cooperative and have learned to keep accounts, pay the bills, and manage production. This has given me confidence, and my family and neighbors now see me as a different person. We (my family) are not rich, we do have problems, and there will always be challenges that will come up. But my children are educated and we are a strong, close family. Every day I learn more about being the manager of my cooperative. Not surprisingly, the MarketPlace women are eager to expand their workshops; yet, as with most artisan groups worldwide, they are dependent upon their leader, marketing staff, and designers for guidance in understanding the global market customer. As contractors, the artisans enter the picture only after design decisions have been made and it is time to bid with the other workshops for orders. While a few artisans have begun designing the embroidery motifs requisite to the MarketPlace look, the remainder of the design work is done by the central office. As with much of the worldwide apparel industry in the past few years, orders have not expanded at the rate the artisans would wish. To counteract this situation, MarketPlace designers have begun to develop a more fashion-forward appearance, while still retaining the India-inspired "look." Conclusion: Artisan Groups in the Global Fashion Market The creation and wearing of fashion is about expression of identity. MarketPlace artisans did not begin with craft or business skills, but trained as entrepreneurs and acquired skills for business leadership. For Kala Raksha artisans, fashion thrust in as a double edged sword. It posed an opportunity to earn but a threat to existing craft traditions and cultural heritage. Both organizations worked in the fashion market for the dual goals of income generation and social development. Kala Raksha, in addition, had a third goal of conserving cultural heritage. It attempted to utilize cultural heritage as a primary asset to capture a more significant part of the market. Two scholarly frameworks offered points of departure for this chapter in exploring issues raised by scholars in relation to organizational development. In reference to Nussbaum's (2000) set of core human capabilities (See Table 1), the two artisan groups illustrate clearly how context can shape which capabilities are developed and how identities are nurtured. Both groups expanded artisan capabilities of imagination and thought and of practical reasoning, but toward different ends. Kala Raksha utilized artisan cultural heritage as a core strength for engaging artisans more fully. Drawing on the museum collections, Kala Raksha encouraged artisans to appreciate the design languages of their unique embroidery traditions, and to realize their abilities to create and innovate, within the constraints posed by the practicalities of production and the tastes of contemporary markets. As a result, Kala Raksha artisans have acquired an identity as designers who are in control of their cultural property—embroidery traditions—for participation in the global fashion market. The MarketPlace artisans acquired new knowledge in the form of a range of business skills for application in planning, management, and completion of large production orders within the Mumbai business environment. For the artisans, their evolving business and decision making skills emerged as new cultural property. Women who previously rarely left their homes now project identity as business leaders in producing fashion for the global fashion market. A second scholarly framework of organizational evolution also proved useful in assessing the two enterprises' evolution. Handy, et al. (2006) suggest that vertical integration and generational activities distinguish successful NGOs. In vertical integration and generation, organizations enlarge their programs in concert with their originating goals, but in recognition of their member's expanding needs and expectations. Here again, the two enterprises illustrate how context can direct focus for organizational generation. With Kala Raksha, founders observed the expansion of commercial work for artisans coming into Kutch following the 2001 earthquake. They were aware that Kutch artisans were understood as workers who earned at manual labor wages and believed artisans were not accessing their most valuable creative capabilities. To offset this trend, and in concert with their originating goal of preserving cultural heritage, Kala Raksha established a design school where artisans acquired a wide range of skills in designing for the global fashion market. Artisans have completed the design course, become design interns, and participated in marketing opportunities in India and abroad. In addition to their increased income, artisans now feel respect and pride in their ethnic identity, are rewarded for their creative capacity, and experience greater voice through expanded participation and decision making in their society. In their organizational evolution, MarketPlace first reorganized from a single top heavy workplace to seven decentralized workshops where decision making skills could be more broadly honed. Organizational generation centered on expanding business skills that encourage greater autonomy for the workshops in apparel production. As MarketPlace artisans began to equate commercial participation with broader impacts in their own lives, MarketPlace responded with programs for promoting greater self-efficacy through understanding legal rights for women related to dowry, property rights, and domestic abuse, and for handling the stress of daily life. Through these generational activities, MarketPlace artisans exhibit agency for running a fashion business, positioning one's own life for individual and family decisions, and advocating for others in the community. In looking to the future, the global fashion market presents challenges for sustainability and growth in relation to each group's unique approach to their work. Increased appropriation of design intellectual property across cultures in the global market has resulted in a generic ethnic fashion look that appeals to consumers who have limited knowledge of textile traditions. Kala Raksha's challenge is to innovate within traditions while appealing to those consumers, and to tell a story that makes cultural integrity more valuable and thus marketable. Consumer demand for constant fashion change speaks to MarketPlace's need for greater cross-season design innovation that competes for customers demand and provides work upon which the artisans depend. For both groups, the world's fluctuating economic market impacts consumption patterns that directly affect sales potential for artisan groups who view the fashion market as an avenue toward economic self-sufficiency and social development. Kala Raksha and MarketPlace illustrate how their respective socio-cultural environments shaped their originating goals, the aspirations of the artisans involved, their perspectives on cultural property, and their benchmarks for success. For those scholars focusing on artisan enterprise development, attending to issues of capability development and enterprise evolution seems imperative for first understanding and then advocating for artisans to secure a place in the global fashion market. At the same time, acknowledging the constraints and opportunities within specific cultural contexts is vital to ensure that artisans retain control in shaping their cultural property as they enter the market. Endnotes 'The following scholars provide insight on a broad variety of issues related to artisan enterprise development and the global economy: Basu 1995; Cochram 2005; Frater 2010; Grimes and Milgram 2000; Littrell and Dickson 2010; Milgram 2010; Morris 1996; Nash 1993; Norris 2010; Paige-Reeves 1998; Root 2005; Rosenbaum and Golden 1997; Stephen 1991; Tice 1995; Turner 2007; Zorn 2004. ²Data for the MarketPlace discussion were collected through field research across a two year period from 2001 to 2003 and funded by the Earthwatch Institute. As is common in such research, we drew upon multiple sources of data including participant-observations, photo documentation, and in-depth interviews with 161 artisans. Details of the interview and photo documentation methodology, qualitative and statistical analysis, and extended findings can be found in the Appendix: Methods section of Littrell and Dickson (2010). Mar 3Across her twenty years as a development practitioner with Kala Raksha, Judy Frater has documented the KR story through in-depth interviews with artisans to record their artistic and cultural heritage and to evaluate outcomes of various Kala Raksha initiatives, including the first six years of Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya. These analyses are available through a series of DVDs available at www.kala-raksha.org. DVDs include: The Kala Raksha Story: Nurturing the Art of Craft; Needlecraft: A Way of Life; The Masters' Voices; The Stitches Speak; and Artisans Design: The Launch of Kala Raksha Vidhylaya. In addition, current KR activities can be accessed through the KRV Newsletter, also available at the Kala Raksha website. Table 1. Central Human Functional Capabilities (Adapted from Nussbaum 2000, 78-80)

Capability	Description (adapted)
Life	Able to live to the end of a human life of normal length
Bodily health	Being able to have good health, including reproductive health, and adequate nutrition and shelter
Bodily integrity	Being able to move freely from place to place with one's bodily boundaries treated as sovereign, having opportunity for sexual satisfaction and choice in reproduction
Senses, imagination, and thought	Being able to use the senses to imagine, think, and reason, informed by an adequate education
Emotions	Being able to have attachments to things and people, without overwhelming fear or anxiety or by traumatic abuse or neglect
Practical reason	Being able to form a conception of the good and to engage in critical reflection about the planning of one's life
Affiliation	Being able to live with and towards others, including showing concern for others, engaging in social interaction; being treated as a dignified being with worth equal to others
Other species	Being able to live with concern for animals, plants, and the world of nature
Play	Being able to laugh, play, and enjoy recreational activities
Control over one's environment	Being able to participate in political choices that govern one's life; having property rights; having the right to seek employment on an equal basis with others

References Basu, K. 1995. Marketing Developing Society Crafts: A Framework for Analysis and Change. In J. A. Costa and G. J. Bamossy (Eds.), Marketing in a Multi-cultural World (257-298). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Boo, Katherine. 2012. Beyond the Beautiful Forevers. New York: Random House. Chambers, Robert. 1997. Whose Reality Counts? Putting the First Last. London: Intermediate Technology Publications. Chatterjee, Ashoke. 2007, Fall. "Craft Crisis in India." Hand/Eye: The Aid to Artisans Magazine: 12. Cockram, M. 2005. Lessons Learned in Twenty Years: Honduras, Ghana, Hungary, Russia, Armenia, Central Asia, and Peru. Hartford, CT: Aid to Artisans. Frater, Judy. 1995. Threads of Identity: Embroidery and Adornment of the Nomadic Rabaris. Ahmedabad, India: Mapin Publishing. Frater, Judy. 2003. —This is Ours,' Rabari Tradition and Identity in a Changing World." Nomadic Peoples, 6(2). Frater, Judy. 2010. "In the Artisan's Mind: Concepts of Design in Traditional Rabari Embroidery," Sui Dhaga, New Delhi: Wisdom Tree with Indian International Centre. Grimes, K. M., & Milgram, B. L. (Eds.). 2000. Artisans and Cooperatives: Developing Alternative Trade for the Global Economy. Tucson: University of Arizona Press. Handy, Femidy, Kassam, Meenaz, Feeney, Suzanne, & Ranade, Bhagyashree. 2006. Grass-roots NGOs by Women for Women: The Driving Force of Development in India. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Korten, D. C. 1987. "Third Generation NGO Strategies: A Key to People-centered Development." World Development, 15 (Supplemental): 145-159. Liebl, Maureen. 2005, February 22-26. "Jodhpur: The Most Creative of Communities." Paper presented at the Conference on Asia-Pacific Creative Communities: A Strategy for the 21st Century Senior Expert Symposium," Jodhpur, India. Liebl, Maureen, & Roy, Tirthankar. 2004. Handmade in India: Traditional Craft Skills in a Changing World. In J. M. Finger & P Schuler (Eds.), Poor People's Knowledge: Intellectual Property in Developing Countries (53-73). Washington, DC: World Bank & Oxford University Press. Littrell, Mary A., & Dickson, Marsha A. 1995. Social Responsibility in the Global Market: Fair Trade of Cultural Products. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Littrell, Mary A., & Dickson, M. A. 2010. Artisans and Fair Trade: Crafting Development. Sterling, VA: Kumarian. Milgram, B. Lynne. 2010. "From Trash to Totes: Recycled Production and Cooperative Economy Practice in the Philippines." Human Organization, 69(1): 75-85. Morris, W. F., Jr. 1996. Handmade Money: Latin American Artisans in the Marketplace. Washington, DC: Organization of American States. Nash, June. (Ed.). 1993. Crafts in the World Market. New York: State University of New York Press. Norris, Lucy. 2010. Recycling Indian Clothing: Global Contexts of Reuse and Value. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Nussbaum, Martha. 2000. Women and Human Development: The Capabilities Approach. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Paige-Reeves, J. 1998. "Alpaca Sweater Design and Marketing: Problems and Prospects for Cooperative Knitting Organizations in Bolivia." Human Organization, 57(1): 83-93. Robeyns, Ingrid. 2005. "The Capability Approach: A Theoretical Survey." Journal of Human Development, 6(1): 93-114. Root, Regina A. (Ed.) 2005. The Latin American Fashion Reader. Oxford, UK: Berg. Rosenbaum, B., & Goldin. L. 1997. "New Excahnge Processes in the International Market: The Re-making of Maya Artisan Production in Guatemala. Museum Anthropology, 21(2): 72-82. Sen, Amartya. 1980. Equality of What? In S. McMurrin (Ed.), The Tanner Lectures on Human Values: I. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Sen. Amartya. 1993. Capability and Well-being. In M. Nussbaum & A. Sen (Eds.), The Quality of Life (30-52). Oxford, UK: Carendon. Stephen, L. 1991. "Culture as a Resource: Four Cases of Self-managed Indigenous Craft Production in Latin America." Economic Development and Cultural Change, 40(1): 101-130. Tice, K. 1995. Kuna Crafts, Gender, and the Global Economy. Austin: University of Texas Press. Turner, Sarah. (2007). "Trading Old Textiles: The Selective Diversification of Highland Livelihoods in Northern Vietnam." Human Organization, 66(4): 389-402. Zorn, E. 2004. Weaving Future: Tourism, Cloth and Culture on an Andean Island. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press.

What is the importance of handmade craft today? Perhaps a more appropriate question is: In what contexts do handmade craft have value today? For whom is this valuable and why? What are the obstacles and how can the significance of handmade craft be increased? What learning takes place by different parties in the process of increasing the visibility and viability of craftwork in the world today? I have been a weaver for many years and I have studied textile traditions – particularly woven designs and their meanings – to be found in cultures from many regions of the world, traditions that go back millennia. As an adult educator, I became interested in finding out how artisans – particularly weavers - had changed their perspective on craftwork, given the realities and conditions of their lives, which have been impacted by industrialization, mass production, and commercialization. First I traveled to India and later to Thailand to learn about different kinds of community-based organizations that aim to benefit weavers, their families and communities. In no uncertain terms I learned that new meanings associated with weaving are linked to economic survival. One of the key findings of earlier research was the importance of supporting artisans with product development initiatives in order for them to adapt their traditional craft skills and aesthetics into marketable products. As a result, I am currently investigating product design interventions in artisan production. What are the issues and challenges of product development? Who learns what and how? I am interviewing North American product design consultants who work with artisans in Africa, Central Asia, Latin America, Eastern Europe, Caribbean, India and Bangladesh. And I am learning about the impact this exchange has on lives and livelihoods. Traditionally craftwork was an integral way of life and things were made that functioned in daily life, as well as for ritual and sacred occasions. Frequently books on craft traditions in different regions of the world end with a statement about the loss of skills, the demise craft traditions, and the replacement of cheap commercial products in local markets. Often left unstated are the reasons and consequences of this enormous cultural shift. Reasons are to found in the destruction of environments and ways of life, and the impoverishment and displacement of rural people. The value of craft today must be examined in the context of efforts to improve the livelihoods of artisans. How can this be done? And in the process, who learns what? To turn the situation around, craft needs to be viewed within new paradigms, such as: sustainable rural development, women’s home-based work/employment in the informal economic sector, and fair trade/ethical business practice. Each of these frameworks gives credence to the dignity of artisans, the right to sustainable livelihoods and the responsibility of consumers in the global marketplace. The world of the craftsperson in developing countries is far away from the affluent consumer culture of the North. How do artisans bridge the gap? And how do consultants and agencies work to bridge the gap? I am going to address several issues from the standpoint of who is learning what. And how are these learning processes transformative?

Artisans learn to

adapt and acquire new skills in order to make marketable products,
become organized within their communities to work together, and
develop business practices that help them enter new markets.

In each of these areas artisans transform their perspectives of the world and what is possible for them.

Product designers learn to

increase cultural sensitivity – they appreciate the knowledge, abilities, eagerness and determination of the people they work with;
respect the hardship, struggles and constraints inherent in artisans’ lives and work – they learn to initiate appropriate measures for supporting the artisans’ efforts to improve their livelihoods – for example, materials banks, workshops on quality control and business skills; and
appreciate the enormous challenges of creating sustainable artisan enterprises.

Agencies and NGOs recognize

the scope of the need for support, education, market access;
the importance of partnerships with business, government and educational institutions to create awareness and promote crafts trade in the global marketplace; and
ways to increase consumer awareness of the impact of their purchases on artisan livelihoods.

Networks are active around the world, linking people who are concerned about justice and basic human rights of health, education, social security and livelihoods, and particularly the concerns of women. The concerns of artisans are coherent with the agenda of emerging development alternatives of local participation in matters of local importance, including economic development. Several organizations in North America and United Kingdom that are addressing the needs of artisans include: The Crafts Center, Washington D.C.; Aid to Artisans, Hartford Connecticut; Fair Trade Federation (FTF) in USA; International Federation of Alternative Trade (IFAT) and HomeNet in the UK. These organizations have extensive outreach to artisan groups and also do consumer education. E-commerce has also increased the visibility of artisan work; websites that show products provide stories about the craftspeople that made them, and the potential of on-line purchase of craft has become a powerful tool for the benefit of artisans. To increase the viability of artisan activity as a way of life and livelihood in distant parts of the world, we in North America have a part to play. That is to increase awareness in such a way to make a difference in the choices we make as consumers and to see the connections we have with the well-being of others far away who need our attention and care. References: Fisher, T; Mahajan, V & Singha, A. (1997). The Forgotten Sector: Non-Farm Employment and Rural Enterprise in India. London: Intermediate Technology Publications. Grimes, K. & Milgram, L. (Eds.). (2000). Artisans and Co-operatives: Developing Alternative Trade for the global Economy. Tucson: University of Arizona Press. Jongeward, C. (2001). A Search for Sustainable Livelihoods within Global Marketplaces: Adult Learning and Change among Rural Artisans in Thailand. Proceedings of the 20th Annual Conference of the Canadian Association for Studies in Adult Education, Quebec City, Quebec. (2001). Alternative Entrepreneurship in Thailand: Weavers and the Northeastern Handicraft and Women’s Development Network .Convergence. Vol 34, No. 1. (2001).Prae Pan: Many Kinds of Fabrics. HomeNet, No. 15. (2000). Cultural Investing: Artisans, Livelihoods and the Indian Context. In Johnston, Tremblay & Wood (Eds.). South Asia: Between Turmoil and Hope. South Asia Council of Canadian Asian Studies Association and Shastri Indo-Canadian Institute: Simon Fraser University (1998). Weaving New Freedoms in Rajasthan: A Role for Craft in Community Development. Convergence. Vol 31, No. 4. Littrell, M. & Dickson, M. (1999). Social Responsibility in the Global Marketplace: Fair Trade of Cultural Products. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Local Weaving Development Project (WAYANG). (1995). Weaving for Alternatives. Thailand: Nutcha Publishing Co. Ltd. Lund, F. &Sriniva, S. (2000). Learning from Experience: A gendered approach to social protection for workers in the informal economy. Genev: ILO Ransom, D. (2001). No-Nonsense Guide to Fair Trade. Toronto:New Internationalist Selected websites: WEIGO-www.wiego.org. HomeNet-www.gn.apc.org. Craft Centre-www.craftscenter.org. Aid to Artisans-www.aidtoartisans.org. IFAT-www.ifat.org. FTF http/www.fairtradefederation.org.

NORTHEASTERN HANDICRAFT AND WOMEN'S DEVELOPMENT NETWORK

WEAVING GROUPS

NATURAL RESOURCES AND ENVIRONMENTAL CHANGE

Environment and Health Protection

Education and Training in Product Development

A Garden of Shawls: The Buta and its seeds

Welcome to the Textile Museum

Introduction: Who I am & What I’m Doing

Background Check: What Seva Mandir and Sadhna Really Do

A Personal Look: Interview with Jaya

RABRI AND KHATRI LAC DYEING PRACTICES

THE MEGHWAL VANKARS AND YARN DYEING

Availability of lac

Attempts towards revival of lac dyeing by Shyamji bhai and the Meghwal community of Bhujodi and his insights into his work

Shayamji Bhai and Bhujodi

Historical Timeline, Bhujodi 1945 – 40 to 50 looms worked for the local communities of Rabaris, Kanbis and Ahirs in Bhujodi

Artisans learn to

Product designers learn to

Agencies and NGOs recognize