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Introduction Pushpa Kumari belongs to the flourishing tradition of Madhubani painting which she learnt from her grandmother, Maha Sundari Devi, one of the pioneering Madhubani artists to work on paper. Selling from age 12, Pushpa’s uniqueness lies in her desire to experiment and develop new themes and treatments. She has pursued an artistic vision that derives greatly from the Madhubani tradition but which over the years, has been personalized with her own private preoccupations and quests. Interview At first glance, Pushpa Kumari looks like any other woman on the street, clad in a simple outfit, quiet and soft-spoken. Pause for a minute, look into her intense eyes and listen to her speak – suddenly you realize you are talking to someone exceptional, someone with deep spiritual moorings and immense artistic fervour. She has a strong and sure sense of herself, both as an artist and a person. Steal a glance at her intricate paintings and chances are that for a long, long time, you will not be able to take your eyes off her mesmerizing works of art. Her extremely fine black and white drawings are breathtaking, extremely detailed, mind-boggling in the complexity of line and form and yet beautiful and graceful in totality.

Life as a tree:- as it grows it also dries up and dies. Similarly as a human being attains another year in age, he loses that much of his life. Like the smoke disappearing into air, life also vaporizes. When the flames is put out only smoke is left.

Born in 1969 in Madhubani, Bihar, Pushpa grew up in her maternal grandmother’s home, sent there to assuage the loneliness of her grandparents after their children had grown up. Her grandmother, Maha Sundari Devi, one of the pioneering Madhubani artists to work on paper, soon became a major influence in her life. Traditionally, Madhubani paintings from Bihar, North India are drawn by women on walls and floors of their homes. These ceremonial paintings depicting religious and social themes were a means of visual education, a way of passing down stories, myths and social values from one generation to another. The kobhar ghar or marriage chamber paintings are the most elaborate, filled with fertility symbols and other auspicious drawings to bless and instruct the newly married couple. After a severe drought in Mithila in 1966-67, the government, in an attempt to generate income from non-agricultural activities, encouraged the women to paint on paper and then sell these paintings. Maha Sundari Devi, along with Ganga Devi, Sita Devi and a few others heralded to the world the existence of this genre of painting.

The toddy palm gathers:- The life cycle of the Pasi caste Tapping the toddy tree.

Growing up in this artistic ambience, Pushpa began painting seriously at a very young age. By 12, she was producing works for sale, doing extremely fine work within the stylistic parameters of traditional Madhubani painting. Soon she began experimenting with different themes and treatments, coming up with stunning results, each work a visual masterpiece. This constant wish to create exquisite pieces and the desire to take to new artistic heights an already established tradition is what makes Pushpa different from other folk artists in India. Despite economic compulsions, she has never been part of the large market for cheap knock-offs sold as “authentic Madhubani paintings”, which are a pale shadow of this elegant tradition. Quietly and consistently, she has pursued an artistic vision, a vision that derives greatly from the Madhubani tradition but which over the years, has been personalized with her own private preoccupations and quests. Pushpa’s paintings and drawings stand apart largely because she does not merely lay out a representation of a particular object, deity or scenery but uses her painting and the stylistic devices of Madhubani art to focus, question and at times even subvert her subject. She exhibits finesse and a level of sophistication, not commonly seen in Madhubani paintings. Her compositions alternate between extreme drama and tremendous subtlety. Like her, at first glance, some of her paintings seem innocuous and straightforward – take a second look and you will be drawn into an exquisite symphony of content and contour, of line, form and colour. Chances are that at first, you might miss the deeper philosophical core that lies at the heart of some of the painting. A deeper scrutiny will reveal a meaningful essence, powerful and beautiful.

Deepavali Festival

Pushpa is constantly pushing the boundaries of her art both in theme and treatment. With equal dexterity, she depicts a singular character (a god, goddess, mythological hero or heroine), an entire scene (a village celebrating Diwali) or a mystical philosophical concept (the notion of death as pruning, the first human birth). However, instead of pursuing the hackneyed themes of village scenes and a few popular gods and goddesses, Pushpa is constantly searching, in the holy epics, the Mahabharata and the Ramayana, the Vedas and Puranas, remembering stories told by her grandmother in her childhood, or fragments of tales overheard elsewhere – all for something different and deeper to represent in her paintings. Even conventional village scenes appear differently – in a painting depicting Diwali celebrations in different homes, every person’s attire has something associated with this special festival of lights – thus, one woman’s sari is covered with little firecrackers while other garments have little oil lamps or rockets. Fine black and white drawings, highlighted with occasional dots and dashes of red and orange are her forte. Be it a small sketch or a large poster-sized sheet of paper, her lines are consistent, all drawn freehand with no prior measurement or rough pencil sketch. What makes this task an amazing feat is that she works with a nib affixed to a piece of bamboo, repeatedly dipping the nib in ink and moving it fluidly across the paper. To see her drawing is to imbibe unconscious lessons in symmetry, scale and perspective, her hands moving steadfastly as she transfers her cerebral imagery onto paper. Her mind’s eye, her constant companion, is her guide, compelling her to scroll intensely in one particular area, draw languid lines elsewhere or ornament a specific part of the picture.

Cow & Bull being Mated

This wealth of talent and the abiding desire to excel, however, has not served Pushpa well, in terms of economic returns. Though some of her pieces exist in the collection of the Mithila Museum, Japan, she is not able to sell work on a regular and sustained basis. Patrons for her work are few and hard to access, given the total lack of any opportunity or forums for her to meet and interact with potential buyers. The craft bazaars held all over India are not the ideal venue as most buyers visit looking for maximum VFM (value for money) and are of the view that crafts and folk arts by their very classification should be low in cost. Also, at such venues, copious amounts of inferior Madhubani art are available cheaply. There is also the danger that her painstakingly researched themes will get copied and be produced poorly to sell at lower prices. Art galleries in India (with a few exceptions) on the other hand have not yet positioned themselves as viable custodians/promoters of folk art, unlike Australia or Africa and thus are viewed as pretty unapproachable by most folk artists including Pushpa. Her unfamiliarity with computers and the lack of access to web selling hinders her from selling her art through the Internet, an ideal means to reach out to ever-expanding audiences.

Making palm sugar (gur):- Women of the Pasi caste engaged in making sugar from the sap of the palm tree.

The scenario for gifted artists like Pushpa who are pushing the boundaries and opening new vistas, sadly remains quite disappointing. In more than one way, innovative and talented folk artists face many roadblocks as far as profiting from their art is concerned. There is a great need to usher in fresh ways of seeing artists like Pushpa, of validating their search for new ways to ensure the continuity of their traditions and to enable them to benefit from their creative talent. Pushpa, whose name means “flower” in Hindi is waiting for her moment in the sun, to blossom fully.

Mat weaving is an age-old cottage industry in India, with references dating back to the Atharva Veda (reference to kapisu or mats from grass). Indian folklore is also replete with incidental references in which the ancient sages were offered grass mats as seating. Mats made from grasses and reeds are abundant in India, especially in the more humid and swampy areas; local variations depend on the raw materials available and on other local conditions. The madur mats - made from the madur kathi reed (Cyperus tegetum and C. Pangorie) that grows in the swampy area around Midnapore in West Bengal - are the most popular of the mats produced in the state. The madur kathi grass from which these mats are woven grows particularly in the area around Midnapore, the coastal area of West Bengal west of the Ganges. Pranabes Das who along with his wife Saraswati Das weaves madur mats, says that the particular extent of the flooding in this area creating a particular kind of swamp condition - is what allows the madur kathi to grow here and nowhere else, for this grass needs a fairly specific amount of water. The overflooding in the three to four villages around Midnapore is not conducive to agriculture, not even to growing rice (which needs a fair amount of water). Thus, madur mats are specific to the Midnapore area.

Tradition T.N. Mukherji in his book 'Art Manufacturers of India' published in 1888 states that "In an artistic point of view two kinds of mats are only important, viz., those made of Madur grass and of Sitalpati grass (Maranta dichotoma). Madur mats are employed all over Lower Bengal as a bed by the middle and the poor classes. Floors of European houses are covered with this kind of mat. A very fine kind of Madur, called Masland mat, is produced in the District of Midnapore. The finer the culms of the grass are sliced the softer and the more delicate becomes the mat. It is often striped red with sappan wood-dye, and sometimes ornamentated with silk and face work. Masnad is the seat of honour amoung oriental nations, and this fine mat being often spread over other rich floor-cloths on account of its coolness, it is called the Masland mat. The culms of the sedge are sliced into fine strips by men of the Baiti caste, which their women subsequently weave into mats".

Process and Techniques The grass grows to a height of 4 to 5 feet. It is cut in September-October, after the monsoon rains, and is then dried in the sun, usually for three to four days. Pranabes Das explains that each strand of grass, about 2 mm in thickness, is cut into three strands with a needle. The mats are woven on a simple bamboo-frame loom. The warp is cotton thread and madur kathi comprises the weft. Finely woven mats have 40 threads (jute sutlis) in the nine inches that comprise an average hand span, while less fine mats have 18 threads worked into the nine inches that comprise an average hand-span, while less fine mats have 18 threads worked into the nine inches. Three kinds of madur mats are woven, the thick (and more comfortable) doroknu (with a double madur kathi weft), the more simple (and thinner) ekrokha; and the very fine-textured masland. The striations on each reed (pale gold, light green, dark green) are used to create coloured

textures, especially on the fine maslands. Otherwise, the green of the reed slowly fades to a pale gold as it dries with contact with air or with sunlight. Occasionally, natural dyes, made of mehndi leaves and other local plants are also used to created coloured borders; however, the madur mat weavers are so dexterous at creating colour vatiations and patterns using the natural colour striation of the madur kathi reed itself, that additional dyes are usually unnecessary.

Products and Marketing Although mats are the most common other products like bags and hats are also made from the madur kathi, often on order. A regular size mat of the three feet by six feet is made in a day and a half, and costs, on an average, Rs 100. These mats are sold locally for a variety of purposes - to sleep on, as floor coverings, and as decoration. Centralised distribution mechanisms are also in place, so madur mats are also sold in areas quite distant from where they are produced Pranabes Das says that he sells through exhibitions and fairs, and has even exported an order as far as Canada. His income is enough for his family to live on adequately. The same, he says, is true for the 30-40 families (dominantly of the Mahisya caste) in the Midnapore area who practice mat weaving as a profession. Though this craft was initially practiced more by women (Pranabes Das learnt from his sister, who learnt from their grandmother), it is now a profession for the families in the Midnapore area who earn their livelihood from it.

This paper was presented at the 1997 Third International Conference on Design Education in Developing Countries, Technikon Pretoria, South Africa and published in Image & Text: Journal for Design (1997), Vol. 7, pp.3-8. It is reproduced here with the permission of the author.

Brief SketchTechnology is often associated with the "magic and miracles of the glittering industrialized world" (Maathai, 1995). It is often seen as unattainable for the majority living in developing countries and the fact that it impacts directly or indirectly on every ones' lives is rarely acknowledged…. The producers of ethnic 'knick-knacks' in the South are caught in the developed / not developed "dualistic structure"(Plumwood: 43) so beloved by development theorists and practitioners….

This paper discusses the current situation with regard to design, technology and development and the potential role for design of transforming technology from the unattainable and miraculous to the 'everyday'. The paper argues that the creativity of design can be used to perform magic that results in pleasurable and empowering technology.

The status quo has to be challenged because as Plumwood continues to assert "once the process of domination forms culture and constructs identity, the inferiorised group ..[..].. Must internalise this inferiorisation in its identity and collude in this low valuation.." [I]t has to be recognised that 'universalism' and 'naturalism' can not be used to justify the status quo with regards to products designed and manufactured in the South. I am not suggesting that the production of handmade crafts be abandoned completely, or that it is in some way bad. Like technology, it exists in a globalised social structure and is only negative when seen as the 'other'. I am arguing for a pluralistic and creative approach to technology, one, or rather several, which may involve handmade artifacts, batch production, mass production etc running in parallel and occasionally converging. An approach which gives the producer and user control over what is being produced. As a designer, I perhaps not surprisingly believe product design practice has much to offer the transformation of technology. Not transforming through unattainable "magic and miracles" but by 'spilling' the secrets of the magic circle. Highlights

The Oxfam Catalogue Syndrome: 'The Third World crafts achieve a brief "Oh this is pretty and would make a nice gift for…. " (fill in a relative for whom present buying is difficult) or "this must have taken a long time to carve, it's a bit expensive". In comparison the Innovations catalogue is poured over in detail with exclamations of "look what you can get now, clever isn't it" and even the extremes of technological irrelevance are grudgingly admired for the technical expertise, miniaturisation etc. The cost of the products is commented on but the expense is justifiable because of the amount of technology contained within.'
As a consequence of these catalogues, the perception in the UK of what it is possible to design and manufacture in developing countries is tied to the Western ethnic 'knick-knack' market. I would suggest that the continued emphasis on producing artefacts for this market reinforces the "sense of inferiority" discussed by the South Commission because technology is largely absent in the production methods and completely absent in the products being offered for sale. The emphasis is on technology-free artefacts that are decorative first, useful second and devoid of moving parts be they cogs or 'chips'.
'[A]s Brett (1986) asserts this is the "commodification of aesthetic feeling and the imperialist assumption that the whole world is available". There is evidence of this in the introduction to the Autumn/Winter 1996 Oxfam catalogue. As a customer you are invited to:

"choose from our exclusive range of hand-made products and food from around the world. Many of the products we have chosen for you reflect designs and materials that have been passed down from generation to generation, helping to preserve skills and age old traditions. Each of the hand-made items are unique, reflecting the touch of the individual craftperson."
This begins to read like an introduction to a heritage theme park where tradition and culture are preserved and experienced through 'living' history. Both the romanticism of ethnicity and cultural imperialism become overwhelming.
'Designers have a significant part to play in how technology is used for development. ' 'Design makes implicit and explicit decisions about how to use the technological component and if, as Deforge argues technology has always avoided ethical questions, it follows that designers have too.'
'…I would suggest [that] design in many developing (and some industrialized) countries is only associated with craft production when it is considered at all. A vicious circle is beginning to become clear, one where the OCS can not be escaped from. OCS does not promote cultural diversity as it might first appear but initiates and sustains the dualism of tradition and modernity.
'Through the OCS indigenous designers are being sold a model of design that is fossilised and can make no use of technological innovation. Production methods might be incrementally improved but the artefacts produced remain firmly situated in the tradition and decoration department and continue to be for export. Southwell (1995) has suggested that design could take a participatory approach, using and adapting a development model in order to improve the process of design. It could also help make those involved in development aware of what design has to offer.'
Another layer of inferiority is added by the remarkably globalised "cultural stereotype of women as technologically incapable" (Wajcman, 1994). The technical empowerment of women is vital to effective development efforts but whilst technology remains gendered so will it's inherent power (Stamp, 1989).

Section Titles of The Complete Paper

INTRODUCTION		GENDER, TECHNOLOGY AND DESIGN
"OXFAM CATALOGUE SYNDROME"		CONCLUSION
PRODUCTION FOR MODERNISATION		REFERENCES
DESIGN AND DESIGNERS

INTRODUCTION

Technology is often associated with the "magic and miracles of the glittering industrialized world" (Maathai, 1995). It is often seen as unattainable for the majority living in developing countries and the fact that it impacts directly or indirectly on every ones' lives is rarely acknowledged. The observation that "common people and policy-makers alike [view modern technology] with a respect and wonder, usually associated with the occult", is also true for designers, (Saha, 1990). The South Commission (1990) suggests that countries of the South have consistently under valued the role technology plays in development and that a "sense of inferiority in the field of science and technology" is a fundamental problem. Here design has a critical role to play in making technology accessible at all levels. This paper discusses the current situation with regard to design, technology and development and the potential role for design of transforming technology from the unattainable and miraculous to the 'everyday'. The paper argues that the creativity of design can be used to perform magic that results in pleasurable and empowering technology.

"OXFAM CATALOGUE SYNDROME"

A number of non governmental organisations (NGOs) notably Oxfam, Traidcraft and others work internationally in the area of craft production for development as do several other organisations based nationally. These organisations produce catalogues to both promote their development work and sell the products manufactured by their projects. Oxfam is probably the best known organisation currently working in this field and I have therefore opted to describe the syndrome as the "OXFAM Catalogue Syndrome". However, the term is used generically throughout the paper. I would argue that design in countries in the South has been and continues to be trapped by the "OXFAM Catalogue Syndrome" (OCS). This syndrome has been derived from an observation made in the UK where several different catalogues promoting and selling articles from thermal silk long johns to microwaveable hot water bottles are received, usually unsolicited through the post or contained in the folds of the Sunday newspapers. In particular the Oxfam catalogue (or Traidcraft etc) arrives alongside the Innovations catalogue. The Innovations catalogue is packed with natty if often absurd technological gizmos for example electronic nasal hair removers, which are marketed along the lines of "transform your life! Indispensable! Time-saving!", which can be ordered through the post. The contrast between the two is highlighted by the difference in the running commentary each catalogue elicits. The Third World crafts achieve a brief "Oh this is pretty and would make a nice gift for…. " (fill in a relative for whom present buying is difficult) or "this must have taken a long time to carve, it's a bit expensive". In comparison the Innovations catalogue is poured over in detail with exclamations of "look what you can get now, clever isn't it" and even the extremes of technological irrelevance are grudgingly admired for the technical expertise, miniaturisation etc. The cost of the products is commented on but the expense is justifiable because of the amount of technology contained within.

As a consequence of these catalogues, the perception in the UK of what it is possible to design and manufacture in developing countries is tied to the Western ethnic 'knick-knack' market. I would suggest that the continued emphasis on producing artifacts for this market reinforces the "sense of inferiority" discussed by the South Commission because technology is largely absent in the production methods and completely absent in the products being offered for sale. The emphasis is on technology-free artifacts that are decorative first, useful second and devoid of moving parts be they cogs or 'chips'. It is argued that the observer can be made aware of the culture of the producer through a hand-made artefact or a visual image. However, with OCS, there is an inequality in consciousness between consumer and producer, a transformation of an artefact from meaningful object to one devoid of symbolism, (Brett, 1986; Sardar, 1993). Also present is the uneasy feeling of superiority on the part of the viewer. The impression of the 'other' is controlled and manipulated (Chowdry, 1995: 26). As we leisurely peruse the catalogue in the damp, grey UK, we imagine the exotic batik bedspread in our bedroom, the exquisitely carved coasters in our dining room and the expertly woven magazine rack at our feet in the lounge. And to cap it all we can supply our children with 'politically correct' wall hangings and t-shirts to counteract the effect of Barbie dolls and Game-Boys. Arguably this accessabilty to difference and the 'other' can result in greater understanding between cultures but what is being understood and where is the equality of understanding? Rather as Brett (1986) asserts this is the "commodification of aesthetic feeling and the imperialist assumption that the whole world is available". There is evidence of this in the introduction to the Autumn/Winter 1996 Oxfam catalogue. As a customer you are invited to:

"choose from our exclusive range of hand-made products and food from around the world. Many of the products we have chosen for you reflect designs and materials that have been passed down from generation to generation, helping to preserve skills and age old traditions. Each of the hand-made items are unique, reflecting the touch of the individual craftperson."

This begins to read like an introduction to a heritage theme park where tradition and culture are preserved and experienced through 'living' history. Both the romanticism of ethnicity and cultural imperialism become overwhelming. The relationship between the consumers and producers can be described further as a dualism, where as Plumwood (1993: 47), says it "is an intense, established and developed cultural expression of such hierarchical relationship, constructing central cultural concepts and identities so as to make equality and mutuality literally unthinkable". This is perhaps a harsh and shocking analysis of the relationship but the status quo has to be challenged because as Plumwood continues to assert "once the process of domination forms culture and constructs identity, the inferiorised group ..[..].. Must internalise this inferiorisation in its identity and collude in this low valuation..". Being technologically incapable, receiving the most patronising forms of 'appropriate' technology is the lot of the inferiorised. The emphasis on craft production for income generation and development is also part of this process of domination. Designers have a significant part to play in how technology is used for development. Noorgard (1995: 56) argues that "Societies, rather than picking and molding technology according to their values, are being shaped by technology". Countries in the South are being shaped by technologies the North deigns to allow them to have. This is not to suggest that given the choice the South would rush to adopt high-tech over and above the so called appropriate technologies but having the power to choose could optimistically lead to progress. I would suggest that it is here that design needs to be mobilised. Aesthetic, ergonomic and environmental considerations are all part of a designer's approach to technology (or should be!). Design is the interface between technology and people, and is therefore in some part responsible for the creation of identities and influencing cultural change . Design can be carried out in a participatory way again offering a bridge between people and technology, giving control over, rather than being controlled by technology. As Noorgaard (57) says "control [over technology] can only be exercised by each society developing a collective sense of self, defining its objectives, and thereby determining what progress is…".

Production For Modernisation

At the same time as design is caught by OCS, there is the paradox of production for modernisation through the manufacture of 'tradition'. Those who are producing the ethnic 'knick-knacks' are advised to do so to achieve development and ultimately, modernity. Whatever the liberality of cause espoused by the development / trade agencies involved in this production, they exist in and at least implicitly promote, capitalist market economies: the "goal of modernization theory" (Chowdhry, 1995: 28). Industrialised nations have not become so through the mass production of ethnic knick-knacks, but through the continued development of technology and products which utilise these technologies. Even where industrialisation has not been the goal innovation and design have been evident historically in the survival of the human race from agriculture to architecture, communication to travel. Products have not remained static so why in developing countries should they apparently come to a standstill in the name of 'development'? Buchanan & Margolin (1995: xii) argue that "design exists as the central feature of culture and everyday life in many parts of the world". However, the concentration on and promotion of ethnic artifacts has to large extent resulted in the tacit knowledge of design being lost through the "sense of inferiority" remarked on by the South Commission. The producers of ethnic 'knick-knacks' in the South are caught in the developed / not developed "dualistic structure"(Plumwood: 43) so beloved by development theorists and practitioners.

The cultural imperialism discussed above is also implicated in the control of technology and design. This is evident by the desire expressed in the North that "the Third World …avoid the wasteful and socially divisive path of marketing-led design in favour of socially useful products". As Whiteley (1993: 119) continues:

"The logic ought to be in favour of responsible design: Third World countries - almost by definition - are characterized by scarcity rather than surplus and merely owning a product ought, therefore, to matter more to people that its particular make or styling."

The questions this raises are why are responsible design and market-led design seen as incompatible? And why should they be presented, as they usually are, as a dualism? I would suggest that this has been the result of the implicit cultural imperialism which continues in design for development. As we have seen above, the North perceives design in the South to be dominated by tradition and ethnicity. Design carried out in the North for the South is dominated by the image of 'appropriate' technology where this means solar power, fuel efficiency, basic needs etc. There are very few images of design being executed for the South by the South. The Ugandan design teacher, Pido (1995: 35) recognises that "There is a need to fit indigenous design to the cash economy" and suggests that "Design could blend skilled hand-production and domestic economic interest ….[to].. Produce consumer goods for ourselves." The key here is the production of consumer goods for the home market.

Design And Designers

Writers and practitioners from the South acknowledge that design is an "ancient activity" (Ghose, 1995: 193), and "an instrument of everyday life" (Pido, 1995: 35) but this 'everydayness' has resulted in both its invisibility and paradoxically its professionalization. The professionals live in the industrialized countries because I would suggest, design in many developing (and some industrialized) countries is only associated with craft production when it is considered at all. A vicious circle is beginning to become clear, one where the OCS can not be escaped from. OCS does not promote cultural diversity as it might first appear but initiates and sustains the dualism of tradition and modernity. The UNESCO paper (1988) on Human Resources Development, National Policies, Global Strategies and International Cooperation asks how "indigenous spiritual and cultural creativity [can be transformed] into initiatives and entrepreneurship" (in Cole, 1990: 374). This question needs to be asked of the development agencies and designers in the South should be the ones to do the answering. Ghose (1995) argues that governments will have to:

"introduce national design policies that will dovetail with developmental policies, thereby making design an agent of the visual manifestation of the ideologies of development. Thus, if the fundamental aim of the developmentalist is to provide national confidence and self-reliance and bring some sense of equity, visible symbols of this confidence will have to be shown not only in the styles of architecture adopted, but also in the materials and processes adopted, the manner of advertising undertaken, the styles of clothing exhibited, the nature of products manufactured, and the skill in converting modern imported technology into products distinctive for the specific needs of the people."

Ghose (1995: 188) suggests that indigenous design can not be separated from technology transfers, foreign aid and trade.." and obviously the reality for many governments of developing countries is that their hands are tied by 'tied aid', structural adjustment, loan repayments etc. As Ghose (2001) says "design and development is a quest for non-standardized answers in an age of standardization" .

Deforge (1995: 21) argues that technological objects have two functions, "utilitarian and sign". The technological component of an object gives it another dimension, often concealed and unconsidered. Design makes implicit and explicit decisions about how to use the technological component and if, as Deforge argues technology has always avoided ethical questions, it follows that designers have too. Responsibility is required of designers to ensure technology is put to honest, open use and not used to conceal inadequacies. Technology is too frequently proclaimed as a cure all; from clean and easy housework to clean and easy war, from solar powered stoves to smart bombers. The emphasis on technological developments, has suggests Eisler (1990: xx), been on destruction and domination and that it is this emphasis "rather than technology per se, that today threatens all life on our globe." Walsh, et al (1992: 49) point out that it is "very easy to ignore the wider consequences of design". This is pertinent to both the negative and positive aspects of design: It is easy to ignore the environmental consequences of the 'throw-away society' and equally easy to ignore the potential in design for creating positive change. Both require the designer to accept a degree of responsibility, move beyond their own personalised fantasies and seek the views of the potential users/customers. This is not to devalue the tacit knowledge which is "regarded as an essential component of the skills and quality of designers", but to suggest that design involves the potential users in the "product development process" (Walsh, et al: 50; 243). Walsh, et al (52) identify four "common features" in design practice which may provide a useful guide to understanding the role of design in the product development process. The authors refer to the following as "the '4 Cs' of design":

"Creativity: design requires the creation of something that has not existed before (ranging from a variation on an existing design to a completely new concept).
Complexity: design involves decisions on large numbers of parameters and variables (ranging from overall configuration and performance to components, materials, appearance and method of manufacture). Compromise: design requires balancing multiple and sometimes conflicting requirements (such as performance and cost; appearance and ease of use: materials and durability). Choice: design requires making choices between many possible solutions to a problem at all levels from basic concept to the smallest detail of colour or form."

I would suggest that the four words; creativity, complexity, compromise and choice, have similar meanings in development where situations are often complex and require a creative approach to choice and usually result in compromise. The "4 Cs of design" could be used to emphasis the importance of the design process and the potential of technology.

Gender, Technology and Design

Another layer of inferiority is added by the remarkably globalised "cultural stereotype of women as technologically incapable" (Wajcman, 1994). The technical empowerment of women is vital to effective development efforts but whilst technology remains gendered so will it's inherent power (Stamp, 1989). Too many technological advances have resulted in women's lives deteriorating despite the "potential to transform lives…in a positive way." (Ng Choon Sim & Hensman, 1994). The role of designers is to package technology to make it accessible, desirable and usable to the people who live with and employ it (Dormer, 1991). Unfortunately, technology remains "both the social property and one of the formative processes of men" (Cockburn, 1994: 56) and designers are predominantly male. Consequently the people for whom technology is made accessible are usually men. As an inanimate object technology can cross international and cultural boundaries but as it does so it remains the "social property" of men and in many instances comes to represent "…the strongest force of male dominance [in] the public sphere…" (MacKenzie & Wajcman, 1994: 22). This is evident in military hardware, the electronics industry (where women are employed for their 'nimble fingers'), and water pumps (where men are trained to service them) amongst many others.

One of the guiding precepts of design as it is taught and practised (certainly in the North), is that people buy particular artifacts in order to express and/or confirm their identity. If this the case then designers have a considerable part to play in defining the cultural system. However, unless cultural systems are redefined in relation to women, women will continue to be disempowered by technology. Technology will further entrench cultural "taboos" rather than negate them. Both men and women will be the poorer. Buchanan (1989: 98) highlights the problem of "technological reasoning, where beliefs and values always condition products, whether they are recognized explicitly, are implicitly assumed, or ignored completely". The belief that women are technologically inept is so ingrained that it is invisible never mind ignored. Once again this is apparent in the dualistic structures: culture/nature, modernity/tradition and developed/undeveloped. These dualisms provide a key to understanding the complexity of the relationships between gender, technology, design and development and how the OCS is involved in sustaining these relationships:

Design	Technology	Handicraft	OCS
	Developed	Undeveloped
	Modernity	Tradition
	Culture	Nature
	Male	Female

For a dualism to exist there has to be a relationship of dominance, one is seen in the terms of the other. The relationship of dominance implicit in the OCS is there both for women and men.

There is an urgency to move towards 'multicultural' designers as Balaram (1995: 137) asserts "for designers to be convincing they too have to become involved with the object of design …. Only then can they expect to produce artifacts that are meaningful in the sense of reflecting the very mythology that guides users.." Equally there is an urgency to involve women in design, or rather recognise and validate the invisible design already being carried out by women (this is also the case in industrialised countries). Design carried out cross-culturally can add a layer of obscuration to technology for men and an additional layer is often applied for women. If, as Krippendorf (1995: 157) argues so eloquently product semantics goes further than "industry's immediate concern with production and consumption [because it is concerned with the] celebration of wholeness …the respect for mythology and archetypes that are rooted deep in the collective unconscious…", then the absence of cultural and gender diversity amongst global / international designers is an anathema. At the very practical level, the absence of women designers results in the "application of 'tacit knowledge' about women users' needs happen[ing] only rarely in product design" (Walsh et al, 1992: 244). Parpart & Marchand (1995: 17) highlight the role of the "analyst/expert" which they say "reminds us of the close connection between control over discourse/knowledge and assertions of power". The Northern design discourse is rarely 'bothered' by or with discourse from the South. Equally it is rarely concerned with women and/or gender, occaisionally chapters are written by women from a feminist perspective or feminism/women and design is mentioned by the male author (Walker, 1989; Attfield, 1989: Buckley, 1989; Whitely, 1993). In product design practice, design is only gender aware in so far as giving products masculine and feminine attributes for the differentiated markets. Of course what it is to be feminine is decided by male designers and as Eisler (1990: xviii) says "in male-dominated societies anything associated with women or femininity is automatically viewed as secondary …. To be addressed, if at all, only after the 'more important' problems have been resolved". I suggest that if design addressed gender seriously it would be able to fully understand that although professional designers have "long argued that..[they] represent the human being and the human dimension of product development" they no longer have to struggle to come to terms with the fact they do not "possess special knowledge about what people want and need.." (Buchanan & Margolin, 1995: xiv). Designs' creative energies could then be applied to possibly revolutionary ideas for development, both in the North and South.

Conclusion Design treats women in much the same way as development is addressed, there is the patriarchal assumption that 'we' know best and as a consequence we rarely look at alternatives. Development agencies are adopting participatory approaches and dealing with issues of empowerment but design has a long way to go. At present design models are largely incompatible with those of development and consequently there is a lack of awareness of the issues by both parties. Through the OCS indigenous designers are being sold a model of design that is fossilised and can make no use of technological innovation. Production methods might be incrementally improved but the artifacts produced remain firmly situated in the tradition and decoration department and continue to be for export. Southwell (1995) has suggested that design could take a participatory approach, using and adapting a development model in order to improve the process of design. It could also help make those involved in development aware of what design has to offer. Also attention to the "4 Cs" discussed earlier could provide an accessible design discourse which, if used along side participatory methods, could help bring design and development together. A discourse that can be mutually understood is necessary if the work of designers is to "contribute more concretely and effectively toward a more humane existence in the future" (Rams, 1989: 113).Design is critical for the integration of technology into social structures, for making technology accessible and creating identities and consequently culture. Obviously technological progress has to be approached with caution to avoid the linear model highlighted by Norgaard (1995: 55), where "better science leads to better technology and more rational social organization and thereby to more material well-being through more effective control of nature". However unless technological progress is allowed to play a part in the products being designed and manufactured the current state of stasis will remain. It is also important to remember that tacit knowledge has to be allowed to develop or it too will stagnate. I would suggest that imagination is needed to explore the possibilities of technological integration, to break down the barriers built by the "OXFAM Catalogue Syndrome". Design could provide the method to do this.There has to be a recognition that technology is not a 'universalism' and that 'naturalism' can not be used to explain the status quo with regard to women's involvement with technology. Equally, it has to be recognised that 'universalism' and 'naturalism' can not be used to justify the status quo with regards to products designed and manufactured in the South. I am not suggesting that the production of handmade crafts be abandoned completely, or that it is in some way bad. Like technology, it exists in a globalised social structure and is only negative when seen as the 'other'. I am arguing for a pluralistic and creative approach to technology, one, or rather several, which may involve handmade artifacts, batch production, mass production etc running in parallel and occasionally converging. An approach which gives the producer and user control over what is being produced. As a designer, I perhaps not surprisingly believe product design practice has much to offer the transformation of technology. Not transforming through unattainable "magic and miracles" but by 'spilling' the secrets of the magic circle.

References

Attfield, J. (1989) FORM/female FOLLOWS FUNCTION/male: Feminist critiques of design, in J.Walker, Design history and the history of design. Pluto Press, London & Colarado. Balaram, S. (1995) Product symbolism of Gandhi and its connection with Indian mythology, in V.Margolin & R.Buchanan (Eds) The idea of design: A Design Issues Reader, The MIT Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts and London. Brett, G. (1986) Through our own eyes: Popular art and modern history. Heretic, UK. Buchanan, R. (1989) Declaration by design: Rhetoric, argument, and demonstration in design practice, in V.Margolin (Ed), Design discourse: History, theory, criticism. University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London. Buchanan, R. & Margolin, V. (Eds)(1995) Discovering design: Explorations in design studies. University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London. Buckley,V. (1989) Made in patriarchy: Toward a feminist critique of women and design, in V.Margolin (Ed), Design discourse: History, theory, criticism. University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London. Chowdry, G. (1995) Engendering development? Women in development (WID) in international development regime, in M.Marchand & J.Parpart (Eds), Feminism, postmodernism, development. Rouledge, London and New York. Cockburn, C. (1994) The material of male power, in D.MacKenzie & J.Wajcman (Eds), The social shaping of technology. Open University Press, Milton Keynes and Philadelphia. Cole, S. (1990) Cultural technological futures. Alternatives, 15, 373-400. Deforge, Y. (1995) Avatars of design: Design before design, in V.Margolin & R.Buchanan (Eds) The idea of design: A Design Issues Reader, The MIT Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts and London. Dormer, P. (1991) The meanings of modern design: Towards the twenty first century, Thames & Hudson, London. Eisler, R. (1990) The chalice and the blade: Our history, our future. Pandora, London. Ghose, R. (1995) Design, development, culture, and cultural legacies in Asia, in V.Margolin & R.Buchanan (Eds), The idea of design: A Design Issues Reader, The MIT Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts and London. Krippendorf, K. (1995) On the essential context of artifacts or on the proposition that "Design is Making Sense (of Things), in V.Margolin & R.Buchanan (Eds), The idea of design: A Design Issues Reader, The MIT Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts and London. Maathai, W. (1995) A view from the grassroots, in T.Wakeford & M.Walters (Eds), Science for the earth: Can science make the world a better place? Wiley, UK. MacKenzie, D. & Wajcman, J. (Eds)(1994) The social shaping of technology. Open University Press, Milton Keynes and Philadelphia. Marchand, M. & Parpart, J. (Eds)(1995) Feminism, postmodernism, development. Rouledge, London and New York. Ng Choon Sim, C. & Hensman, R. (1994) Science and technology: Friends or enemies of women? Journal of Gender Studies, 3, 3, 277-287. Norgaard, R. (1995) Development betrayed: The end of progress and a coevolutionary revisioning of the future. Routledge, London & New York. Oxfam FairTrade Company catalogue, Autumn-Winter 1996 Pido, O. (1995) Made in Africa. Design Review, 4, 15, 30-35. Plumwood, V. (1993) Feminism and the mastery of nature. Routledge, London & New York. Rams, D. (1989) Omit the unimportant, in V.Margolin (Ed), Design discourse: History, theory, criticism. University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London. Saha, A. (1990) Cultural impediments to technological development in India. International Journal of Sociology and Social Policy, 10, 8, 25-53. Sardar, Z. (1993) Do not adjust your mind: Post-modernism, reality and the other. Futures, October, 877-892. South Commission (1990) The Challenge to the South: The report of the South Commission. Oxford University Press, Oxford. Stamp, P. (1989) Technology, gender, and power in Africa. International Development Research Centre, Canada. Wajcman, J. (1994) Technology as masculine culture, in The Polity Reader in Gender Studies. Polity Press, Cambridge. Walker, J. (1989) Design history and the history of design. Pluto Press, London & Colarado. Walsh, V., Roy, R., Bruce, M.,& Potter, S. (1992) Winning by design: Technology, product design and international competitiveness. Blackwell, Oxford. Whiteley, N. (1993) Design for society. Reaktion Books, London.

CATEGORIES: Technology & Craft, Design & Technology, Women & Technology

KEYWORDS: Craft, Design, Technology, Cultural Imperialism, Oxfam, North (Consumer)-South(Producer) Divide, Women

With the onset of the new economic order in the early nineties, I believed that a special thrust had to be given to the craft sector to enable it to face the challenges of the coming decade. Crafts had to be looked at through hard economic mindsets rather than remain a part of a romantic-looking poster. This article was published in The Indian and World Arts and Crafts Journal in January, 1993 and reprinted in A Podium on the Pavement, New Delhi: USBPD, 2004.

There are some favourite catchwords of the nineties which signify people's concerns and indicate an increased awareness of a new set of world values. Some of these are 'eco-friendly', 'women's issues', 'holistic development', 'crafts', 'vegetarianism' and 'organic' materials for health. These are a part of the concerns of those seeking more peaceful alternatives for survival in a world which continues to be overtaken by profit and poverty-poverty not just of the economic variety, but a depletion of the moral fibre of ideologies and of humanitarian concerns. Unfortunately, however, the real agenda is drawn up by those who speak of 'global markets' and a 'New Economic Order'. In this context it is important for all of us who are in some way involved in the propagation of our indigenous arts and crafts to shed the image of ourselves as the beautiful people of the crafts movement and see the situation as it really is. If we are prepared to do that we may manage to equip ourselves with enough commitment to convert our concerns into an abiding article of faith impinging on all spheres of our work and affecting all sections of our society. This alone will ensure the dignified survival of the craftspeople of India. The urgency of the situation is belied by the proliferation of craft shops, boutiques, bazaars and emporia in the more well-to-do neighbourhoods of the country. Crafts are more popular, handlooms are more fashionable-this is the impression created. But is it really so? How many craftspeople and weavers are benefiting? The data collected by the Operations Research Group, a Tata-owned organization which serves the mighty corporate sector, found that in 1989-90, 69 per cent of the total artisan households in India earned up to Rs. 750 per month, which works out to Rs. 5 per day per head in an average household of 5 persons. Among the minorities and the really poor, where a family includes elders and more than three children the situation obviously becomes much worse, only 0.3 per cent of all artisans earn Rs. 4,000 a month. Among rural artisans (who are much larger in number than the urban artisans), 29.6 per cent households earn only Rs. 350 per month, 47.9 per cent earn between Rs. 350 and Rs. 750, 19.4 per cent earn between Rs.751 and Rs. 1,500 and only 3.1 per cent earn Rs. 1,500 a month. That is as high as it goes. The craftspeople who come to the Surakund Crafts Mela, the Crafts Museum and the periodic bazaars are still only a chosen handful. Repeatedly buying the odd Tilonia chappal, Jawaja handbag or Sambalpuri ikat sari while thousands of roadside patterns, village weavers and deprived shoemakers go under because their markets have been taken over by the 'New Economic Order' must make us sit up and realize that there is far more that we have to do for the crafts and crafts people of India to survive as a thriving sector of a self-reliant economy. For this the attraction to handicraft and handlooms, the arts and folk styles of daily life must not just remain in the domain of the educated elite. Handicraft and handloom bazaars should not be popular just because we get 'arty' things at a fairly inexpensive rate but because health, environment, education, self-value, exposition of cultural diversity and other such vitally important areas are linked to the need for sustaining crafts. We need to get beyond the romantic and aesthetic to face the grim realities of what craftspeople are up against. For this we must draw in shoppers from a vast section of people and link their concerns with the crafts movement more directly. Let me demonstrate the ecology argument with a few examples. Take the kulladh - the earthen cup-made by our potters all over the country. With one crore passengers travelling by rail everyday, one lakh potter families would be kept at work daily if each traveller took just one cup of tea in a kulladh instead of a plastic or paper cup. The mud of the kulladh goes back into the earth without harming it. Hygiene is maintained by ensuring that it cannot be reused. Paper is saved and non-degradable plastic is avoided. Imagine the dimensions of a simple decision to use kulladhs everywhere-at every bus stand, canteen, cafeteria, roadside tea shop and, of course, the 'arty' restaurants? Not only the all-things-ethnic lovers but political parties, trade unions, schools, hospitals, offices and voluntary organizations across the country could lobby for implementation of this policy in their sphere of influence. Then it would be a real movement which would be difficult to destroy because there is simply no argument to do so. Economists should calculate how many kulladhs could be used in a day if all these organizations were to convert themselves accordingly. The employment thus generated would excel that of the corporate sector which is capital intensive and mechanized. Clay and fuel would be required but it is time that the potter's right of access to these should equal the access of industrial houses to materials required for paper pulp, yarn and various other products. How many craft-lovers and craft-users can channel their efforts into making this a reality? People connected with the large corporate sector would not just decorate their gardens or front lobbies with earthenware pots to show their love for crafts, but should see that in their entire sphere of influence everyone uses only the simple lowly kulladhs. It is when such objects are used as a matter of course rather than as a fad of the intellectual and social elite that the crafts of India will find their rightful place. The vanguard or catalyst role has, of course, to be played by this section of our society, to influence all other sections. The widening of our horizons as to what constitutes handwork will also help the crafts movement go forward immensely. Compartmentalised activity has in a way immobilized a concerted surge forward. For instance, for creativity to continue and encompass changing trends in society, traditional skills need encouragement to adapt and recreate rather than remain purist. Classical traditions in music, dance and theatre are lending themselves to modern themes, both secular and social, but crafts have not been helped to do so to the extent necessary or possible. Stone and wood carvers steeped in the tradition of making statues of god and goddesses, kalamkari artists depicting religious epics, mithila painter's familiar images can surely allow more space for secular or non-sectarian themes such as the glorification of Nature, equality of the sexes, care for the community, importance of the girl child, anti-dowry, anti-rape campaigns and the preservation of water and other forms of energy. Surely our craftspeople should make their skills relevant to mainstream issues instead of constantly glorifying only gods and propagating myths and superstitious beliefs. If those of us who are part of the crafts movement are shocked and angry with the destruction of the mosque at Ayodhya and the Shiv Sena attack on Muslims and all sorts of other 'outsiders' in Bombay, should we not guide our artisans to be relevant even outside the religious mindset? This is not to undermine the kind of sustenance religious festivals and establishments give to the artisan sector. For instance, the palm leaf baskets and tiny earthenware dishes with ghee wicks used or prashad and offerings at the Lord Jagannath temple at Puri keep thousands of potters and basket makers employed. Tomorrow, of course, the religious order may not be concerned if these are replaced by plastic and aluminium containers made in factories, but for the present at least, religious activity sustains artisanal activity quite unnoticed and unprotected by the doyens of the craft movement. Can we protect these markets or create new ones on such a scale? These are crucial questions require considerable introspection before they can be answered. Educationists also have a special role to play, for which the promoters of arts and crafts must make special efforts to encourage. There have been valiant but minuscule efforts at orienting unique and rich contribution the craftsperson can make if they are taught at regular schools. The spiritual value of handwork, the recognition of our aesthetic heritage an respect for this toiling section of society that goes beyond admiring them as museum piece curiosities are important seeds to be sown in fresh minds. If our children at school can spend a couple of hours a week talking to, and working under, the benign direction of an illiterate potter or weaver, the value of real education would be understood by them. Many simple scientific principles can be taught by craftspeople. Regional embroidery traditions could be learned by young school girls. Why should Archie comics, Walt Disney cartoons or Barbie dolls define the world of fun and entertainment for our children? Have we nothing to offer from our folklore which could be depicted by folk painters? It goes without saying that the use of regional languages as a medium is important if we want to spread the movement beyond the English-speaking dapper youth of our jhuggi jhonpri (slum) colonies take to Fido-Pepsi T-shirts and imitation Levis much faster than our children agree to go to a birthday party in handloom or khadi clothes once they are old enough to say 'no'. While we continue to expect government to formulate bold and far-reaching policies to help the craft sector; we should realize that the responsibility really lies with us. The minister in charge of handicrafts and handlooms has most often had the least clout in the cabinet, and could not possibly support the economic reforms being pushed through by the government to the obvious detriment of his portfolio; so he probably has to remain silent. Most ministers will promise help to diametrically opposed platforms and, in that kind of situation, the group with the most money or political muscle wins. It is never the crafts sector unless we become their effective vanguard, not just their buyers of baubles. When we influence the local teashop owner to switch to kulladhs, or force the imposing Krishi Bhawan to use handmade palm leaf waste baskets, instead of frittering our energies in symposiums, seminars and lectures, esoteric and academic, the crafts 'movement' will truly move ahead.

While Americans in the northeast huddle in their thick winter coats and sweaters the European and America tradeshows are just starting to heat up for their first round of the year. Few consumers think or know about how the products they buy end up on the shelves and racks of American department and import stores, but these items have long lives before they reach the cashier counters and homes of Americans. This past January I attend the New York International Gift Fair and experienced a crucial part of this journey firsthand.

The New York International Gift Fair occurs twice a year, once in January and again in August, and highlights some of the newest and hottest trends in home décor and gifts. The fair consists of six sections of products including general gifts, high-end design, museum store items, garden accessories, tableware and, of course, handmade. In the handmade section buyers can find a range of product from African wooden turned jars to Guatemalan hand-woven pillows. The fairs, a vital part of the marketing cycle in the United States, are a place where producers, exporters and importers can showcase new products to buyers. These buyers in turn place orders for products that will ultimately end up in stores and catalogs for some of the most popular chains in America. As I wandered the 18 miles of display area housed in one of New York's largest convention centers, I had a glimpse of the newest trends for this year. The products that are displayed in the most recent round of tradeshows were designed as long ago as six months and will not hit the store shelves for another six months giving artisans and producers enough time to fill large orders. These products also reflect a huge effort on the part of designer and product developers, who stay abreast of new trends in colors, materials, textures and patterns. These designers will help artisans develop new lines and collections that will be hopefully be favored in international, regional or local markets. This year I saw a tendency to geometric patterns, richer and deeper colors and a reflection to the past in terms of patterns and product shape. However, as a design consultant pointed out to me, there is also an emerging trend to use natural materials in their unrefined forms. This move away from refined, sculpted and treated natural materials reflects the use of cheaper, non-handmade components to replicate the look and feels of natural materials. One of the most vital components of the international market that artisans and designers have to be aware is the competition that factory made goods create. Goods from large factories in China, for example, use cheap labor, factory methods and inexpensive materials in order to produce items that seem handmade. These products are sold at extremely low prices and draw buyers, and ultimately customers, away from the more expensive handmade items. Because of this artisans need to keep their designs fresh and new in order to gain the attention of the international market. However, artisans can direct their products toward niche markets that require high quality and fair trade practices. These niche markets are often demanding and constricting with little leeway for new and learning producers. As an employee of Aid to Artisans I had the opportunity to attend the organization's Market Readiness Program which they hold biannually at the New York International Gift Fair. This training program, aimed at exporters and producers from developing countries, makes critical connections for people who rarely get exposed so fully to the American marketplace. The program consists of seminars, tours and product reviews, all given by seasoned consultants who have worked with ATA before. The seminar topics range from design trends to costing and pricing talks, giving producers and exporters a feel for the vast amount of knowledge needed to successfully access the American market. Of course this experience was eye opening for me as well giving me a behind-the-scenes look at the process of bringing craft from the artisans workshops to the buyers attention. One of the most exciting moments for me during my time in New York was witnessing and facilitating an actual interaction between an importer and a producer. By acting as a liaison between certain ATA contacts and our trainees I introduced a museum shop quality importer to a craft producer from Bolivia. This woodworker created beautiful and intricate carved animals painted in traditional, bright colors. And although the conversation between the importer and producer happen almost completely in a language I didn't understand, the excitement and sense of opportunity that hung thick in the air was enough to effect me. I walked away from that experience with a richer understanding of how craft can make its way from the small villages of a rural section of South America to the shelves of the San Diego Zoo museum shop to the mantles of American homes.

Issue #002, Monsoon, 2019 ISSN: 2581- 9410 Few people are aware that the pre-spinning technology of cotton yarn making is damaging to cotton. After cotton from the fields is ginned in ginning mills, it is baled in steam presses for transport to spinning mills. Baling compresses trash such as bits of seed coat or leaf into the cotton and makes the soft lint into a hard, compact mass, like a block of wood. This hard mass has then to be unbaled and brought back to its original soft, fluffy state which in the spinning mill is done through the blow-room. By the time the delicate fibres of cotton have gone through these violent processes they are no longer springy but limp and lifeless and have lost a large part of their good qualities. A group of us realized this some years ago, and took up an experiment to spin cotton on a small scale in a way which would cut out some of the damaging processes and which would make yarn specifically for handloom weaving.

Indian cotton cloth was famous throughout the world from at least Roman times, and was the most important source of India’s fabled wealth: Pliny, the historian of Rome, complained in the 1st century A.D. that India was draining Rome of her gold. It is perfectly possible today to produce cloth of a comparable quality, building on a combination of Indian strengths - the millions of small cotton farmers, the number of different local cotton varieties, the vast pool of handloom weaving skills. No other country has this particular combination, this set of circumstances, and the climatic conditions that make it possible to grow desi (indigenous) cottons with minimum resources. India’s primacy in the making and export of cotton cloth continued until the early nineteenth century, when textile machinery was invented in the Industrial Revolution. While today weaving in India is done on machines (86%) and on handlooms (14%), the yarn used by both (except for khadi, which is 0.01% of the country’s production) comes from spinning mills. The entry of large spinning mills into the textile chain in the 19th century has distorted the small-scale economy of traditional Indian artisanal cotton textile production. It has separated the weaver from the source of his main raw material and put the small farmer family at risk. Growing cotton for large-scale spinning is putting a huge strain on Indian soils and Indian farmers, the soils are fast depleting and we read every day of cotton farmers’ distress and suicides. To supply cotton for the spinning mills, farmers must grow varieties that can withstand the rigours of machine processing. The quality of cotton is now judged by how well the fibres perform in the machines, not how good a cloth is produced from it. Because of this single fact, and because mills need large quantities of uniform fibre, the growing of hundreds of desi varieties, of the genus gossypium arboretum, which produced the fabulous Indian fabrics of the past, and which grew as rain-fed crops without chemical fertilizers, has been given up, replaced by American varieties, gossypium hirsutum, which have a longer, stronger staple, but which need irrigation and fertilizers. Humidity produced by irrigation increases pest attack, and so the cotton farmer is locked into a high risk cycle, praying his harvest will cover the high cost of chemical fertilizers and pesticide, with no safety net if it does not. What about our weavers? Weaving on the handloom is still today the largest occupation in the country after agriculture (I’m not going to waste time and space here rebutting the tired old cliché that the handloom is unviable because of its ‘low productivity’). The abundance of our handloom weaving skills is a great advantage that we do not seem to value. In each of hundreds of weaving regions in the country cloth with a specific regional identity is woven. No other country has anything like this phenomenon, a tremendous asset in the age of mass-production where differentiation of product is rare and highly prized. But the mill-spun yarn which handlooms use dilutes this differentiation. Mill yarn is spun with the high twist need for machine weaving, and the same yarn is wound from cones to hanks for the handloom. The handloom thus is reduced to the status of a poor relation of the mills, because it has to make do with yarn that is specifically geared to mass-production. While on the one hand the handloom is forced to pay the high cost of high-twist yarn which it does not need, on the other, by using that yarn handloom fabric loses its inherent advantage over machine-woven cloth of carrying through into fabric the qualities of cotton that are retained in slow-speed processing – durability, elasticity, absorbency, colour-holding, drape, feel and lustre. To build on the advantages of slow-speed weaving on the handloom it needs to be linked to slow-speed yarn making. If each weaving centre were to be supplied with its own special and specific yarn made from locally grown cotton, regional differences would be emphasized, new varieties of cloth would emerge and the quality of handloom fabrics would improve, giving them a huge boost in the market. People all over the world want to know where their clothes come from, and with malkha they would be able to tell - who hand planted the seed that grew the plant that the cloth is made from. An exciting prospect, well within our capabilities to achieve. It was the Congress of Traditional Sciences held by the P.P.S.T. (Patriotic & People-oriented Science & Technology) Foundation in 1993 at the Indian Institute of Technology (I.I.T.), Mumbai, that ignited the interest of some I.I.T. graduates to take up research into the history and modern practice of cotton processing. As the senior member of Dastkar Andhra, I contributed my experience of handloom weaving to the group. We learned that baling and unbaling, part of cotton processing today, had been 19th century additions to pre-spinning, and were unnecessary, energy intensive and damaging to cotton fibre. Then we realized that the stress on the cotton fibre in mill-spinning destroyed its valuable attributes that were preserved through slow-speed spinning. We read 19th century reports of the East India Company’s determined and eventually successful effort to de-link Indian cotton cultivation from indigenous cloth making, to suppress the local industry in favour of the newborn Lancashire mills. Based on the insights that emerged, Dastkar Andhra and Vortex Engineering a few years later took up work on developing small-scale systems for cotton-to-cloth production. The core of the programme is a set of machines – a carder, draw-frame and flyer-frame matched with motorized domestic ring-frames - that takes small lots of fresh ginned cotton from the fields and makes it into yarn in the village. The technical development of the machines began in 1998 at the P.P.S.T. Centre at Anna University, Chennai, with the reconditioning of a set of rusty disused pre-spinning machines bought from a khadi sanstha. The following year hand-spinning on motorized ambar charkhas was initiated in Chirala in Prakasam district of Andhra Pradesh, where we eventually wanted to set up the machines. At the same time work on a new carder was begun in Chennai. Field trials of the carder began at the end of March 2002 at the premises of the Guntur Zilla Khadi Sanstha, who helped us to source raw cotton and introduced us to a local testing lab. The carder was moved to Chirala on Gandhi’s birthday the same year. Using the new carder the number of breaks in the sliver during spinning to begin with was very high. But our group of spinners persisted, and the breaks were gradually reduced through adjustments to the carder and the charkhas by our field team who have consistently shown remarkable engineering ingenuity. Recruited from local unemployed youth, the development of their problem-solving capability is in itself a great achievement. The second carder, which was a much more sophisticated machine than the first, was installed in October 2003, and with this the main problem of frequent breakage of the sliver was solved. Making the yarn into warp for weaving was an important step forward. Since the yarn has less twist, it is more difficult to size with starch to make the warp. This crucial step was accomplished in Chirala again through the persistence of our local spinner group, who cajoled and persuaded local warp makers to cooperate. Once this bottleneck was passed weavers began to weave the yarn into cloth. Today, to any interested observer, the small-scale fibre-to-fabric process looks perfectly feasible: ginned cotton goes into the chute-feed of the carder, sliver is produced, yarn is spun and woven into cloth for which there is a good demand. Nothing of the struggles that have been waged in the last 8 years, or the obstacles that have been overcome to reach the present stage, are visible. Many processes when they were initiated were considered impossible, but were eventually solved through persistence and application. In this, once the unit moved onto the field, the contribution of the machine operators and spinners was substantial. At present one such unit is running, producing about 600 metres of cloth per month, a medium weight slubbed shirting fabric which we call ‘malkha’. In the next two years we plan to expand the number of units to 8 in different locations, each weaving their own version of malkha from locally grown cottons. The establishment of a rural textile chain of cotton to cloth is working its way step by step towards becoming a reality. The spread of the idea, besides the actual setting up of the process, will be one of the important achievements of the initiative, and will in the future we hope, inspire many more such efforts.

Issue #002, Monsoon, 2019 ISSN: 2581- 9410 In 2010, I was very fortunate to be awarded a ‘Making Space: Sensing Place (MS:SP) Crafts Fellowship’, part of the HAT (‘Here and There’) International Exchange and Residency Programme managed by A Fine Line: Cultural Practice. The MS:SP Craft Fellowship included a three-month residency programme for two artist-craftspeople from the UK, two from Bangladesh and one from India. The project offered time to undertake research and develop new work; experience and respond to museum collections, arte-facts, places and spaces; and offer opportunities to observe, work and collaborate with artists and craftspeople from the UK, Bangladesh and India.

The residencies took place in Dhaka, Bangladesh during February 2010, where Thurle Wright (Paper Artist) and I were generously hosted by Britto Arts, and at Arts Reverie in Ahmedabad in Gujarat, India, during March 2010. The artists Tarun Gosh (Painter) and Tapan Das (Rickshaw Artist) from Bangladesh and Lokesh Ghai (Textiles) from India all visited the UK between April and June of the same year. During this time there were educational workshops and projects with both the V&A Museum of Childhood, Bethnal Green, London and The Harley Gallery, Nottinghamshire, UK. The project culminated in a touring exhibition of the work produced as a result of the project. As a practicing metal-smith my interest in the Craft Fellowship followed several threads: Craft objects can take us on journeys, both into our past and around the world, they hold narratives that describe how, through time humans have traded, and migrated across the globe. Craftspeople produce objects that enhance, celebrate and record the events and rituals in our lives. Their arte-facts provide a point of reference for how we live and what our belief systems and values are. They tell stories of how we invent, build and construct with the materials and equipment available to us. The MS:SP project offered an opportunity to reflect on how craft practices, and craftspeople are placed within their cultures and how that role may be changing, it was an opportunity to obtain a broader picture of how craft ‘fits’. I have always been interested in how things are made and constructed. When looking at an object I see the process of its making. This interest in ‘structures’ and the way things are made, by utilizing the properties and characteristics of a material, extends into my practice and is informed by how craftspeople invent and make. The project offered an opportunity to see, first hand, craftspeople making and inventing with material, the places and spaces in which they work, their skills and the processes they use.

Metal is a material I enjoy: the way it moves, its resistance, its feel, its weight, how it changes when heated, its shine, its smell, the sounds of it when worked…. Initial research for the fellowship identified specific things that I felt had a direct connection to my own practice as a metalworker and which I would welcome the opportunity to see and learn more of during the residencies. These included the stunning coiled silver neckpieces or torques called Vadlo or Vaidlah from Kutch in Gujarat, India and the ear pieces, sometimes of known as ‘Nagali’ earrings, which again come from the same region and make use of coiled gold or silver wire.

During my time on the fellowship I was particularly drawn to the woven metalwork baskets, bronze casting and brass working traditions of Bangladesh as exciting areas of metalworking practice to explore and learn more of.

Bangladesh is one of the poorest and most densely populated countries in the world. It is predominantly a rural country, with around 80 percent of the 160 million people living in rural areas. There are stark contrasts between life in the cities and life in the villages. Rural areas are often isolated with limited access to infrastructure or services. Much of the country is low-lying delta floodplain, prone to extreme seasonal flooding and cyclones during the wet season. Despite this hardship, Bangladesh has a rich and vibrant culture, including metalworking traditions that can be traced back as early as the first century BC.

There is sometimes a wealth that comes from poverty or hardship, the resourcefulness and ingenuity of people, particularly craftspeople, working with limited materials and resources, can often result in the production of highly sophisticated, informed and creative solutions to problems. During the course of the fellowship I have been excited and inspired by seeing creative communities and examples of the honest, inventive and creative ways in which craftspeople go about making work, with what seems like little or no resources. During my stay in Bangladesh I had read about a small hamlet a short distance from the capital Dhaka where craftsmen had developed a process of collaborative hammer-working to produce brass, bronze and bell metal products; school and temple gongs, ritual dishes and engraved trays both for the home and tourist markets.

With help and guidance from Shahriar Shaon, an artist and film editor, Shawon Akand, from CRAC (The Centre for Research on Art and Culture), Mokadesur Ahmed Tushil and Britto Arts I was able to visit the workshops to see if this craft tradition was still being practiced. Our journey took us by bus, auto-rickshaw, cycle-rickshaw and by foot. With each stage the pace of travel slowed, we came closer to the landscape and the surroundings became gentler on the eye and the ears.

Passing by people working in paddy fields, we walked along narrow pathways raised above the fields, heading for a small hamlet perched on a high earth bank. The man-made mound on which the cluster of buildings sat had been built to protect the properties from the annual floods during the wet season.

Each year, during the dry season, the families dig clay and deposit it on the mound to raise the height or increase the size of the plot, in an attempt to protect the property from the rising waters during the monsoon rains.

We were drawn by the sound of hammering to a small workshop where a group of men were forging out flat discs of metal, stretching them to the required diameter, cutting the rims and forming the edges. To get the initial disc of metal, the men cast a brass or bronze 'bell-metal' mix called 'pitol', from scrap. The scrap metal is sourced from old arte-facts and objects or is recycled waste and off-cuts from their own manufacturing process. The metal is melted in small crucibles made from river clay mixed with jute, rice husk and sand to give it its refractory properties and pre fired in the same charcoal and coke furnace used to smelt the scrap metal. The molten metal is poured into open shallow molds to make flat circular ingots approximately 15-20cm in diameter.

Stretching these cast discs to the required thickness and diameter for the finished products is demanding work. Brass and the majority of its alloys are not very malleable and are hard to manipulate. The metal is prone to splitting and cracking when hot forged, especially if overheated or overworked. The men work together to share the physical workload.

In the workshop the men sit themselves around the edge of a sunken hollow. In the centre of the pit is a large metal post or ‘stake’ set deeply into the ground. Beside the depression is a coke hearth or ‘forge’ formed by a raised earth platform protected by sheets of corrugated iron and earth walls. A hand powered fan or ‘blower’ feeds air into a ‘pool’ of burning coke, increasing the temperature of the fire. Heating the metal makes the material more plastic, allowing it to be stretched and formed more easily. Together, the men forge a stack of up to 8 of the ingots at a time working together to stretch the hot metal into thin sheets.

One of the craftsmen is responsible for managing the fire, heating up a pile of the cast metal discs to a dull red and transferring this stack from fire to stake. Whilst the rest of the team are hammering he carefully, using long tongs, controls the stack of discs; rotating and positioning them over the stake to get maximum effect from the hammering. In metalworking terminology this process of heating a piece of metal and then hammering it until it has cooled is called ‘forging’ and each period of working the metal when hot until it is cold is called a ‘heat’. Between ‘heats’ the stack of discs are re-ordered to ensure that they are all heated and stretched evenly.

See an overview of the workshop and the processes here: http:/www.youtube.com/user/sj97dp?feature=mhum#p/u/1/KUDdqIJv6Pg The way the men work is quite magical to see. The hammer-work develops in rotation as more and more of the men start to hit the metal. As each individual adds to the hammering sequence his first blow is struck then he misses a beat, indicating his addition to the order of blows, he then joins in at the faster pace. The finish is also signaled by a change in sequence of the hammering, some blows are placed to the centre and sometimes the direction or order of the blows is reversed or changed. The hammering continues until the metal is no longer hot enough to work, and the discs are returned to the hearth to be re-heated. The process repeats until the desired size or thickness is achieved.

The rhythm of the work is musical and the men use long and elegant hammers, designed to allow lots of blows to the metal in close proximity to each other and in quick succession. It is like a musical performance. Sound is key to the process, the sound of the metal and the stake varies from a dull ‘thud’ to a higher pitched ‘ping’ guiding both the individual with the tongs as to the angle and position of the plates he holds, as well as the craftsmen with the hammers and where they should place their blows. Between each ‘heat’ the hammer workers sit and talk or undertake other tasks in the processing of the metal, such as cutting, forming, cleaning or engraving the discs.

When forged to the correct diameter the discs are trimmed and filed to a more uniform shape. The edge of each disc is marked out with a line from a set of dividers. An individual holds the marked disc at an angle on the side of a cast metal stake and positions a chisel, made of tool steel, along the line. The chisel is ‘handled’ with a piece of split bamboo, bound with wire. Another person acts as the ‘striker’, hammering the chisel into the brass plate to cut the edge. Again there is a fluid rhythm to the work, demonstrating both precision and co-ordination between the two men.

The edges of the discs are filed and then formed either using a hammer over a smaller stake or working the metal into a depression formed in a stone, set into the workshop floor.

Other workshops existed in the same hamlet and we followed the other sounds of metal being hammered and worked to discover a second workshop. Like the first, this space was of a timber construction clad with corrugated iron for a roof and with an earth floor raised above the surrounding ground. Here the men were also working on the production of bowls and discs, there was clear evidence of the stages of production around the space, with small groups focused on a range of different tasks in the process – some were forging in the same way as those had been in the previous workshop, stretching out the cast discs of metal.

Here there were examples of the crucibles, some filled and ready to be capped and heated for the casting process, others stacked ready to be filled. Stacks of large ceramic discs stood close by, these are the moulds where molten metal is poured to make the initial discs.

Others were ‘planishing’ the cast discs, knocking out the worst of the dents and evening out the metal by hammering the plates onto the flat surface of a large stake. A part of the group were lined up along one side of the workshop engaged in scraping the surface of the discs smooth.

Sometimes the scraping was by hand; using hardened steel blades set into a bamboo shaft. The sharp scraper is steadied by a steel bar both of which the craftsman holds together in his left hand and which are separated between his fingers and tensioned against the edge of the disc in his right.

As he works the scraper over the surface of the disc he releases the tension in his grip in the right hand, allowing the scraper to move, in a controlled way, with each successive movement, across the disc and towards the centre.

The disc is held in position by three pieces of material. The first is a small stake in the ground with a slot cut into the diameter; this holds the base of the disc. The second is a stick, which again has a slot cut into it, and this supports the top of the disc. This is held in place by the weight of the craftsman’s left leg bearing down upon it. The third is a larger lump of wood / a brick or pad of cloth which sits behind the disc and supports it from flipping sideways or slipping backwards. The whole of the craftsman's body is used to secure and work the piece. The workload is very physical and the men's heels wear impressions into the ground. The scraping starts at the edge and moves toward the middle, the disc is rotated to work across the whole of the surface, producing interesting patterns as the marks, from the scraping, catch the light.

The shavings from the brass that accumulate on the floor are collected and re-melted to make more discs. The scrapers are honed using emery type grit spread out on hardwood logs beside the workers. The men, as in most workshops I have seen in Bangladesh, work on the floor.

Sometimes the scraping was done on an improvised lathe where the disc of metal is attached to a block of wood, which is, in turn, attached to machine made from bicycle components set into the workshop floor or attached to the structure of the workshop. Much of the technology here is based upon work without electricity, only around 19% of the rural population has access to electricity, and even in the cities this is often interrupted by power-cuts. The metal is held in place using heated plant resin as an adhesive. The resin is softened over a small ceramic kiln filled with burning charcoal, again heated with the aid of a small, hand powered, blower.

When in position, the disc (and the resin) is quickly cooled using damp cloths. The resin hardens as it cools and this secures the disc in position. A stick with a metal ferrule at its end is used to make the disc run true. The left foot controls this, as both hands are occupied with the disc and the lathe. Once secured and centered a scraper is passed across the surface of the disc as it rotates.

See more of the workshops here:http:/www.youtube.com/user/sj97dp?feature=mhum#p/u/2/Ine5BEzxXWg In the workshops there were between 6 - 9 men working together. They work collaboratively in order to be able to afford the costs of the materials and equipment and to share the physical workload. Producing the plates takes quite a lot of time and effort. The men in the first workshop said that the dishes sell by weight, between 1000Tk - 500Tk per Kg depending upon the metal % mix. Plates weigh between 1 - 2 kgs,

The workshops sell their products through an agent, who sells at the wholesale markets in Dhaka. The agent provides the metal and pays the workers a making charge. The workers provide the tools and the fuel. In our limited discussions the comments from the craftsmen focused on the lack of machinery available to them. I was struck by the ingenuity and invention, utilizing limited resources and collaborative working to overcome restrictions and limitations in the making process. It was clear that the metalworking processes these men used had developed in response to their environment and resources. There was very little wastage of materials through reuse and recycling. There was a beauty to the sound and the ‘performance’ of the metalworking process, but there was also an immense amount of time and labour that went into the making of these objects. The lack of power tools and mechanical processes made me rethink what the term ‘hand made’ really means and what the value of craft skill was and whether this method of manufacture was sustainable. It’s clear that Bangladesh is changing, I wonder whether the cultural shift in the capital and across the country will change the demand for the skills of these men and

the metalwork they produce and if or how these skills could adapt to those changes. In this hamlet I had seen two workshops supporting around 15 craftsmen, the area had once been a centre for metalworking and within living memory there had been around twenty workshops, in the area. It is clear that people are leaving the villages and the traditional trades, and moving to the city for other work. The age range of the men was also significant - mid to late 30s and older, suggesting that not many younger men were following their family traditions and taking up these craft skills. It was clear that the role of making here had much wider concerns, many of which go beyond the production of a product and into something deeper within the fabric of this community; here making touched on the mechanisms that help to bond a community. Watching the men work I was reminded of the stories of women embroidering or weaving together and singing or telling stories. Craft has a social role and purpose within the community and can serve to sustain a culture, maintaining bonds through sharing stories and activities as well as provide a means of generating income for the group - outside of farming and the production of food (Rice and Jute).

The whole visit to the workshop and seeing the men work was a very special experience that will stay with me, I don’t think I will look at a rolled sheet of metal in the same way again!

The glitter and glitz of precious metalshas defined royalty, flaunted wealth and symbolized status and power. Over the millennia’salchemists innovated inventive ways to satisfy the ever growing pursuit for the new, the unusual and the bespoke. Today some of these ancient techniques continue to find new uses to meet the demands of the connoisseurs, the well-heeled and the ‘new’ royalty.Among thesetechniques are the arts of the precious metal leaf-beaters. The micro-fine leaf that they hand-beat – the Varaq, is used in ways both sacred and secular that defy imagination and speak eloquently of the skills of craftsmanship and the abilities of craftspersons to adopt material to myriad usage. From gilding icons, deities, ritual and decorative objects of stone and woodto being applied onto wall muralsand interiors. Theapplications onpaintings extendingfrom the detailed miniaturearts on paper to the ritual textile arts like those of the painted Pichwais of Nathdwar in Rajasthan. Manuscripts illuminated with gold leaf, gold-tooled leather bookbinding and theedge-gilding of booksto its use on religious book covers. Its extensive use in textiles fromclothing to ceremonial and ritual flags and in the past onpalanquin covers and tent hangings.Anintrinsic part of the MateriaMedica of Ayurvedic and Yunanihealing systems, in ancient cosmetic recipes and ofcourse the ubiquitous presence of this edible gold and silver Varaq on special-occasion Indian foods from confectioneries, desserts and nuts to biryani. The skill and knowledge of making Varaq– the micro-fine leaf of gold and silver continues to be practised acrossIndia.Taking their name from apanni or sheet, one such centreis in the Pannigraahi-kaa-Rasta near SubhashChowk in Jaipur where the seventh generation of the Pannigaar community continue their practice of precious metal-beating.Invited by the founder and first ruler of Jaipur, Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh(1688 –1743)to settle in his new city,a speciallydesignated area was allotted to them, both as a residence and a place to practise their craft. Now three centuries later the descendants of the originalsettlers continuetheir craft here. Though their familial and community links with their age old clients has continued over the generations their business has continued to expandand the community of metal leaf-beaters, estimated to be 6000 in Jaipur alone, have expanded beyond their original home. Gold and silver biscuits of 99% purity are processed through a roller machine that flattens them into long ribbon-like strips of approximately a 1’’width. ShakeelBaig owns and operates several of these roller machinesthat provides thismetallicribbon thatis further transformed into the gossamer -fine Varaq.The ribbonis cut into approximately 1 to 1.5’” and each of these squares is interleaved between the loose sheets of German paper. This special paper, yellow and plasticky in appearance, has a high tensile strength that can take the continuousand repeated hammering without wearing down easily.In the decades past these separator pages were made of animal gut but this is no longer the case. After interleaving 160 of theseloose sheets of paper are stacked, gathered and placed in a pouch.The leaf-beaters skill is now on display as the pouch is placed on a stone work table that is partially embedded in the ground for stability and is rhythmically beaten without pause with a large hammer. Using one hand to hammer the pouch the craftsperson simultaneously rotates the pouch clockwise with the other hand. With each well placed hammer blow the pouch is moved so that every inch of the pouch is evenly and repeatedly beaten.At regular intervals the pouch is turned over to ensure that both sides of the pouch have an equal measure of hammering. This goes on for a minimum of 3 to 4 hours till the interleaved metal square has expanded evenly -almost to the edge of the paper. Paper sizes vary from a small of 4x6” to a large of 8x10” depending on the use they are to be put too and the micron required. The next stage is taken over by the women of the communitywho slice each of the Varaq sheets into quarters with a blunt long knife-like tool and transfer them with incredible gentleness on to butter sheets. Inspite of the heat the fan is not turned on as even a breath of air can displace and break-up the delicate Varaq. The deckle edges of the Varaq are cut and any unevenness or gaps filled in and a few final hammer blows even-out and finish theVaraq.The micro-fineVarq is now packed in packs of ten and ready for delivery. Delivery is often to middle-men, but when it is direct to the client the work is usually extended beyond the supply of Varaq leaf as almost every member of the extended Pannigrahicommunity are equally adept and skilled in the arts of applying the Varaq and their services are called upon by luxury hotels and homes, designers, places of worship to gild walls, ceilings, furniture and otherobjects. However all that glitters is not gold as in conversation with ShakeelBaig,Afzal Khan and others it was revealed that not only had their incomes remained static, neither was there any recognition or acknowledgement of the Pannigrahi communities knowledge and skills in the arts of making Varaq and gilding it. These gossamerleaf-beaters of precious metals whose craft we see around us continue to remain unknown across the many centres in India. [gallery ids="165378,165379,165380,165381,165382,165383,165384,165385,165386,165387"] First published in the Sunday Herald.

Issue #009, 2022 ISSN: 2581- 9410 Abstract The fruit ‘mango’, among all types of fruits, has a greater influence on the social and cultural and religious ethos of Indian society. The mango tree, its wood and even the leaves are still considered auspicious among the Hindu’s. Besides the Hindu, the fruit mango is important among the Buddhist and Jains. From the early days of art history, the fruit mango was represented in Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain art. Consequently, its symbolic representation in the form of ‘Kairi’ (unripped mango) was adopted as design. The motif Kairi was first seen as the decorative design in architecture. Further, the wide adaptation was seen in jewellery and later on, it was extensively used in textiles. From the 17thcentury onwards, the Kairi motif dominated the Kashmiri shawls. Through the trade, these Kashmiri shawls reached the European market and were in great demand there. The growing demand inspired the Paisley village of Scottland, England, to imitate the Kashmiri shawl. Here, in the article, an attempt is to look at the journey of motif Kairi, inspiration from fruit mango, its social and religious significance. 1. Introduction Symbols in traditional Indian art unfolds many layers of meanings; its physical appearance, essence/ powers associated with it, stories woven around it, and so on. Natural powers remain the inspiration for humans at the beginning, which were adopted as the symbol. Next step was the adaptation of symbol into a human appearance, people started excepting the power of symbols in it and the image of divinities were created. (1)Later on, words were added and quite often a symbol, human form, and words all were seen in Indian art. (2)These symbols were adopted as a motif, which was nicely arranged in composition and forms a beautiful design and makes the artwork very attractive. These motifs were inspired by nature (sun, moon, tree, creeper, variety of flower, fruit, animals, birds, etc.) religion (symbol, sacred words, divinities of that pantheon) and the narrative tradition of Indian art, and many scholars have been studied.(3)Among these motifs, the fruits have been comparatively less studied. These fruits are very fascinating to study, how artists had taken inspiration from them. It is not possible to look at all the fruits properly, therefore here only fruit ‘mango’ has been taken for detailed discussion? How the mango fruit is deeply embedded in Indian social, cultural, and religious ethos for so many years? How it has inspired the various kind of artisans to work upon? its shape, size, composition, and design, etc? How these designs have been composed in various formats in older textile specimens, is the main thrust here. 2. Mango in literature Mango (Mangifera Indica) is an indigenous fruit to the Indian sub-continent and many varieties of mango are being grown across the country. (4)The fondness for mango fruit is evident in the literature of all periods. The earliest literary reference of mango fruit as ‘Aamram’(in Sanskrit)comes from Satapatha Brahmana. (5) The other texts are both the Epics, Puranas, literature of the medieval period, folk, and other regional literature.(6) 3. Mango in religion and culture [caption id="attachment_192720" align="aligncenter" width="360"]

Detail of Plate no. 3[/caption] The mango tree is considered an auspicious tree in Hindu ritualistic belief. The mango wood and leaves are still being used in ritual ceremonies. Besides Hinduism, mango is associated with Buddhism and Jainism religions too. (7)One of the popular beliefs in traditional Indian art is the ‘concept of shalbhanjika’, which is associated with fertility. There are several examples of this period, where a female stands under a fruit tree, often mango, holding a branch of a tree and touches the truck of tree by her feet. (8)Yet another, age-old practice of planting a mango tree at the birth of a girl child is a novel way to protect nature and girl child. This work of sustainability to family and environment is being practiced in the Dharhara village, Bhagalpur district of Bihar.(9)There are many social and cultural folklore, customs, festivals are associated with mango. 4. Mango as motif inspiration [caption id="attachment_192721" align="aligncenter" width="262"]

Plate no. 1[/caption] With such a deep-rooted ethos associated with fruit, the mango was perhaps one of the reasons for inspiration for artisans of different fields. Another possible reason is the shape (roundish, slight curve, elongated, etc.), besides size, colour, the textureof mango. Importantly it gives the flexibility to work upon in different sizes, compositions, and colour. [caption id="attachment_192722" align="aligncenter" width="307"]

Detail of Plate no. 1[/caption] Initially, the visual representation of a ‘fruit mango’ and later ‘its shape ’form the 'motif' and is evident in the ancient architectural panels, jewellery, sculpture, and in medieval period textiles. The fruit mango as fertility is evident as a part of decoration from 3rd-2nd century BCE.(10)Next was the ‘motif of mango fruit’ that appeared as architectural pattern decoration in stone panels. One such example is a pair of pillars {2nd century CE}, which depict a couple in the center and side walls depict the ‘mango motif’.(Plate no-1) [caption id="attachment_192723" align="aligncenter" width="359"]

Detail of Plate no. 2[/caption] A similar kind of mango motif composed attractively is evident from jewellery items from Taxila (now in Pakistan) of 1st-century CE. These are bajuband (armrest), necklace, and part of headgear. The four tiny, small mango motif forms the flower composition in the necklace. (Plate no-2) Three such motifs became a design for bajuband is also evident from the stone sculpture of Bodhisattva from the Gandhara region. Little later, yet another interesting feature appeared in the headgear decoration. By this time the mango motif becomes independent and appeared like a jewel in between turban of stone sculpture of almost the same period. (11)This interesting style of head ornament reminds the later period sarpech. Sarpech is also known as jigha/ kalghi, which would be of feather or gold studded with jewels and used to be fixed in the center portion of a turban or on the urban. The use of sarpech in turban became very popular among Mughal emperors and in the provincial courts too. (12) 5. Mango-kalka-paisley design in textiles The final culmination of mango motif as ‘keri’ and ‘kalgha’, which was introduced, developed in the Indian traditional textiles; on woolen shawls of Kashmir, cotton jamdani sari/ odhani from Decca (now in Bangladesh) and Banaras (Uttar Pradesh), silk and brocade sari from Baluchar (Bengal) and Banaras and so on. Besides, kalgha, keri, other known terms, especially in the Indian context are kalka, cari, kairi, kunjabuta. Some of the textile scholars uses the word 'Paisley', 'palm', 'teardrop pattern', ‘boteh/buta/cone’, ‘pine’. Frank Ames has suggested that this motif was developed in Persia and in the sixteenth century when Kashmir and Persia enjoyed the close association it was adopted in Kashmir shawls (13). Monnique Strauss believes that either it has first appeared in Persia or India. She suggests the word 'pine'is mostly used in the English-speaking world, (14) Sherry Rehman an N. Jafri prefers the term ‘keri’, which has come from mango (15), which reminds the word kari, the unripped mango. The word ‘kalgha’ word has been referred by Goswamy while describing the pattern of Kashmir shawls (16) [caption id="attachment_192724" align="aligncenter" width="378"]

Plate no. 3[/caption] The continuity of the mango motif or kari appeared in the costume of female figures in stone and ivory sculptures. First clear, known so far, an example of Kalka motif as textile decoration is evident from a stone sculpture of Mohini from 12th century CE. Intricately carved sculpture show Mohini stands under the mango groove in tribhanga posture and holds a mirror. She is adorned with jewellery and her sari depicts the pattern of floral creeper and kerior kalka motif. (Plate-3)This sculpture is from Gadag, Dharwan district of Karnataka, Southern India. Under the Bhillama rulers in the western Chalukayas of Kalyana, this region flourished in art, culture, and also important trade center, which were connected with other parts of the country (17). Almost a similar motif also appears from the cotton printed textile specimen from Fostat of the 15th century. These were traded from western India and hundreds of specimens are preserved in the various collection.(18) [caption id="attachment_192725" align="aligncenter" width="357"]

Detail of Plate no. 3[/caption] The development of the 'kalka motif’ appeared in the Kashmiri shawl on pallu (end panel) arranged in a row. (Plate no-4)Many scholars have studied the development of buti or buta (small or big motif), in a naturalistic way, tiny buti, elongated buta, combination of both, etc. [caption id="attachment_192726" align="alignnone" width="576"]

Plate no. 4[/caption] The illustration of kalkabuti of Baluchari sari of Bengal is also interesting; an arrangement of kalkabuta in squares on the large pallu, use of various colours and size makes it very attractive. (Plate no-5) The kalkabuta koneia (corner) appeared in Banaras brocade saris, and the introduction of the shikargarh (hunting) scene inside the kalka buta also became very popular. 6. Conclusion [caption id="attachment_192727" align="aligncenter" width="387"]

Plate no. 5[/caption] The kalkabuta on Kashmiri shawl got the new look under the French and England traders and designers. The new elongated kalka motifs were composed, design, colours scheme and woven on the Jacquard loom. The Kashmiri shawl was liked by the French Queen and it became a big hit in the European market. The production of Kashmiri shawl reached Paisley town of Scotland; England was another dimension of designing the shawl. (19) So, the name of Paisley became popular for imitation of Kashmiri shawl produced in this region. The fruit mango to the motif is an attractive and a long journey. The sweetness of fruit-inspired the farmers for production, shape inspired the metal ware artists to make boxes, huqqa, etc., and as motif inspired for panel decoration, for jewelers to introduced in jewllery and textiles printer, painter, weavers, and embroiderer have taken the motif to different levels and have attracted the users to. Bibliography: 1. Banerjea, J. N, The Development of Hindu Iconography, p-71-75, Calcuta, 1956. 2. A beautiful woollen ‘Namavali shawl’ from Kashmir of early 19th century depicts Shiva-Parvati woven on pallu along with damrau other Sivaite symbols, while ‘ Shri Kashi Visvanath Ganga’ mantra is woven all over the field. Pathak. A., Siva Parvati Woven Namavali Shawl, in Kala The Journal of Indian Art History Congress, Vol: XIII, 2007-2008, pp-94-96 3. Banerjea, ibid, pp-510-63; Gupta, The Symbolism of Lotus Motifs in Pahari Embroidery, in Splendors of Pahari Embroidery (ed) Delhi, 2018 4. More than thousand varieties of mango are grown in India and its sweetness and nice fragrance mad made it a national fruit. 5. Satapatha Brahmana, XIV. 7. 41. 6. Brahmavaivarta Purana, 13.28.30.; Agrawala, V.S., Vamana Purana: A Study, Varanasi, 1964; 6.105; 12.51; 17.52; 58.8.; Varaha Purana, 55.42; 146.64; 168.24; 39.44; Vayu Purana, 69.307; 69.308.; Mall. B.L. Trees in Indian art, Mythology and Folklore, New Delhi, 2000, p-36. Tuzuk-i-Jahangiri, tr. Alexander Rogers, Delhi, reprint-2006, p-5. 7. Tiwari, M. N., Ambika in Jain Art and Literature, Delhi, 1989, p-16. 8. Heinrich Zimmer, Myths and Symbols in Indian Art and Civilization. (1946) 9. https: www.mango-trees-each-time-a-girl-is-born-pltvud 10. Salbhanjika on the gateway of Sanchi stupa, Jain Goddess Ambika, Dream of Queen Maya Devi, mother of Buddha, at the time of Birth, Ramayana panel from Deogarh sculptures depict mango tree. 11. Buddha in Indian Sculptures, Austria Exhibition catalogue, April-July, 1995, pl-80, p-131 and pl-55, p-98. 12. Slowly and gradually wearing sarpech became so fashionable that in Punjab region at the time of wedding it has become compulsory to wear kalghi in turban by the grooms. 13. Ames. F., Woven Masterpieces of Sikh Heritage, U.K. 2010,p-30. 14. Strauss. M.L., Romance of the Cashmere Shawl, Ahmedabad, 1986, p-11 15. Rehman, S and Jafri. N., The Kashmiri Shawl, Ahmedabad, 2006, pp-300-302. 16. Goswamy. B. N., Piety and Splendour, Delhi, 2000, p-190. 17. Ganguly, D.C., The Struggle for Empire, (ed) R. C. Majumdar, Vol-V, Bombay, 1957, pp-185-186. 18. Gittinger. M Master Dyers to the World, p-54, pl-42, Washington D. C., 1982. 19. https://risdmuseum.org/exhibitions-events/exhibitions/whats-name-paisley-pattern-kashmir-shawls Acknowledgement Author is thankful to Dr. Gagan Gambhir, for all the line drawing of three objects, which are in the National Museum of Delhi. Plate no-4 and 5 source has been mentioned. List of Plates with details Plate: 1 Amorous couple on front side of pillar and side wall depict mango motif, flower pattern, Amin, Haryana, 2nd century BCE. Plate: 2 Necklace show four tiny mango motif composed in flower design alternatively arranged with round flower, made of gold and semi-precious stones, Taxila, Sirkap, Gandhara, 1st century CE. Plate: 3 Mohini stands under the mango groove wear the sari/dhoti show the kalka motif, Gadag, Dharwar district, Karnataka, South India, 12th century. Plate:4 Border of Baluchari sari show the floral composition made of kalkabuti, Source: Delhi-fun-dos.com Plate: 5 Field and pallu of Shawl show different size, design of kalka motif composed, Kashmir, late 19th century. Source: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e9/09/10/e90910cbc0697e7c56acb7d8a33a15ef.jpg

In the year 1510 Michelangelo created the fresco called “The Creation of Man”. In one part of this fresco, we see a pair of hands: God’s hand and Adam’s hand. Michelangelo shows us the instant when man receives his soul - the reward for his wish for divinity. [caption id="attachment_193623" align="alignnone" width="640"]

The sign (tegn) receives its soul in the form of paper (paper).[/caption] On a signboard placed over a door between the graphic department and the paper manufacturing department at a US university, I saw two hands. One hand holds out a sheet of paper to present it to the receiving hand. The graphic print receives its soul. An act expressing that the importance of the print surface is equal to that of the character printed thereon. Historically paper has been the supporting soul for characters since it was invented in China approximately 2000 years ago. With industrialisation the soul was issued a uniform, and all paper basically looked the same. The unique handmade paper that had been fabricated at European paper mills since the 12th century almost became extinct in the West, while this special art form with its unique expression continued to exist in the East. In the West, more specifically in the US, however, paper had a renaissance as an artistic means of expression in the 1950s, a development that spread to Europe in the 70s and the 80s. The renaissance started as a symbiosis between handmade paper and graphic expression. Jim Dine had his lithography “White Teeth” printed on specially made Fabriano sheets in the mid-1960s. In 1973 Robert Rauschenberg worked at the old paper mill Richard de Bas in the Puy de Dôme area of France to manufacture special paper for his series named “Pages and Fuses”. One of the most important experimental centers for the paper/print symbiosis is Tyler Graphics Ltd. in Bedford Village, New York, USA. Here David Hockney, Elsworth Kelly, Kenneth Noland, Rober Motherwell, Claes Oldenburg, James Rosenquist, Frank Stella and others have had unique works made which demonstrate the complete unity between paper and print at its very best. Inspired by this conglomerate of paper and print, an entirely new industry sprang up to construct the machinery and equipment necessary for manufacturing the driving force needed by the artist in his expression. Parallel to the ecological development, this special art form started to spread, and paper studios appeared in most parts of the world, giving rise to both two- and three-dimensional works. Today paper biennales, paper periodicals and paper stores flourish like never before. The latest 50 years of experimenting provide an opportunity to look back on a development that demonstrates some very special chains of events at a general level. Americans Dard Hunter and Douglas Morse Howell initiated this development. Paper maker, printer and collector Dard Hunter’s (1883-1966) research focused on manufacturing handmade paper for prints and book production. Douglas Morse Howell (1906-1994) experimented with flax and two and three-dimensional works in handmade paper. These two men inspired others to follow in their footsteps. American Lawrence Barker, who was the leader of the graphic department at Cranbrook Academy of Art, learnt the art from Howell and founded the first US institute for handmade paper at Cranbrook. Over a period of seven years, he taught a new generation that was later to open paper workshops and print shops in most parts of the country. Lawrence Barker moved to Barcelona, where he opened his own workshop. Conferences were arranged during which artists met with curators, critics and paper manufacturers. Paper’s renaissance progressed slowly in Europe. In the early 70s, Swiss engineer Fred Siegenthaler opened his workshop, British Silvie Turner and Maureen Richardsson also opened workshops in that period. Jacky Parry and Heinz Dieter Pietsch taught and conducted their own experiments at the Glasgow School of Art and the Royal College of Art. They were followed by Peter Gentenaar in Holland, Andreas von Weizäcker in Germany, Geza Meszaros in Hungary and Anne Vilsbøll in Denmark/Scandinavia. with their own works, held lectures, taught and wrote articles and books to dissipate their own enthusiasm for paper as an artistic means of expression. Today, this is an art form that can be categorised as neither craft nor art, but rather as an amalgamation of the two. In past times an artist knew his craft. Such knowledge is also required by artists working professionally with paper in his or her artistic expression if optimal results are to be achieved. When studying art history we inevitably come across “isms”. Designations like impressionism, cubism, symbolism etc. do not change the content of art itself. These isms: chains of events - are constructed in retrospect and provide an insight into the history of art in relation to the surrounding society. Isms as such are non-existent to artists. Personally I do not find that the ism-categories do justice to all art, but to follow up on this idea one might talk about an ism called paperism. An ism is a line of action invented by art historians in order to put art into boxes and to handle what happened within a certain period of time according to the similarities of the artwork produced during that period. When I want to focus on the chains of events of paper, it is because approximately 50 years of experimenting in this area have passed without being put into a wider context. It is an attempt at passing on insight. The following can be seen as a kind of manifestation of the expressions paper can have. A characteristic feature of paper as a material is that it has aspects belonging to history, geography, biology, ecology, cultural history and aesthetics. It is a material meeting most of the requirements that artists may have for a material for graphics, painting, sculpture, photo, installation, interior design, fashion, furniture, lighting, books, music and performances. Works expressed in and with paper have a clear and definable style. In the work process within this field there will always be particular techniques that the artist will need to master in order to utilize the medium, which in its very basic form consists of destruction and reconstruction. The material must be collected, boiled, cleaned, pounded, cut, cast and surface treated or collected, dissected and re-combined in relation to the desired two- or three-dimensional result. The artistic expressions follow lines that demonstrate shared features. In the following I will mention some of these features. Lines of actions in paper. a characteristic of paper as a material is that it has aspects belonging to history, geography, biology, ecology, cultural history and aesthetics. It is a material accomodating most of the requirements artists may place on the material for graphics, painting, sculpture, photo, installation, interior decoration, fashion,architecture, furniture, lighting, books, music and performance. Works expressed in and with paper have a clear and definable style. Paperism is an art form in its own right. [caption id="attachment_193726" align="aligncenter" width="432"]

Elsworth Kelly Dyed and pressed pulp[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193727" align="aligncenter" width="439"]

Robert Rauschenberg: Dyed, cast pulp,collage material printed machinemade tissue paper[/caption] PULP The fundament of the work = pulp is built up to be either the finished work in itself or an equal carrier of signs. The paper gives soul to the final expression. [caption id="attachment_193730" align="aligncenter" width="638"]

Shoichi Ida: The Surface is the Between - works with concepts for nature with plant fibers.[/caption]

Ecology

The renaissance of paper occurred parallel to the ecological development which gained great momentum in the late 70s. How do we treat our forests? Our water? How do we ensure that we do not destroy nature? As paper is a material consisting of cellulose that is made from plants, many artists express their views on ecology through paper.

Bernard Aubertin works with fire. Matches in all the small holes in metal plates and bars are lit and fire consumes the wood in a single second. Aubertin’s work is a comment to the way we treat our forests.

Recycling

What is the material we use to print news on? Every single day we are immersed in an endless stream of newspapers, periodicals and books. The amount of information, that is often as useless as it is plentiful, is a phenomenon that started spreading rapidly in the commercially oriented society of the 20th century with its rapid growth of technology. Artists react to this with messages that are often produced with the products of mass industry. [caption id="attachment_193733" align="aligncenter" width="319"]

`[/caption] Every single day we are immersed in an endless stream of newspapers, periodicals and books. The amounts of information that is often as useless as it is plentiful is a phenomenon that started spreading rapidly in the commercially oriented society of the 20th century with its rapid growth in technology. Artists react to this with messages that are often produced with the products of mass industry. Work by David Mach: cluster of magazines [caption id="attachment_193734" align="alignnone" width="752"]

Danmark: magazines in wax candles, glass[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193735" align="aligncenter" width="467"]

Dmitri Prigov: newspaper installation[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193738" align="aligncenter" width="469"]

Michel Scarpa: bricks made of cartoon pages[/caption]

Earth

Pulp: paper mass - is a material made from the resources of the Earth, i.e. plants. Pulp can be poured, cast, shaped and pressed like a kind of different nature created by nature. A characteristic attracting artists from all cultures. [caption id="attachment_193740" align="alignnone" width="960"]

(Left)Octavio Roth: pressed cotton pulp, matches, plexiglass (Right)Denmark:compacted news paper pulp[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193743" align="aligncenter" width="521"]

Eun Nim Ro: spatial installation - red earth and kozo paper.[/caption] Pulp = paper mass, is a material made from earth’s material: plants. Pulp can be poured, cast, shaped and pressed like a kind of different nature created by nature. A characteristic that attracts artists from all cultures.

Earth’s Strength

Flax is used to create new and different earth elements. Flax is a strong and flexible material that can be treated to be either impenetrable or transparent. Flax can become hard as stone. It can twine into spiraling shapes when it dries freely or be forced into a desired shape by pressing. Mastering the possibilities of flax opens a thousand doors to anyone who wants to work sculpturally in paper. [caption id="attachment_193744" align="aligncenter" width="493"]

Donna Korretsky: flax[/caption] Flax is used to create new and different earth elements. Flax is a strong and flexible material that can be treated to be either impenetrable or transparent in character. Flax can become hard as a rock. It can twine into spiralling shapes, when it dries freely or be forced into the desired shape by pressing. Mastering flax’s possibilities opens a thousand doors to anyone who wants to work in sculpture. [caption id="attachment_193745" align="aligncenter" width="414"]

Roberto Mannino: installation, flax[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193746" align="aligncenter" width="490"]

Jacki Perry: abaca, flax[/caption]

Earth’s Layers

Pressed pulp surfaces are the step immediately before the cast sheet. Pressed pulp is like an earth surface that can accommodate all kinds of textures. [caption id="attachment_193747" align="aligncenter" width="565"]

John Babcock: stabling of plant surfaces[/caption] Pressed pulp surfaces are the step immediately before the cast sheet. Pressed pulp is like an earth’s surface that can accommodate all kinds of textures [caption id="attachment_193748" align="aligncenter" width="436"]

Gjertrud Hals: pulp/cast[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193749" align="aligncenter" width="484"]

Claudine Peters Ropsy: pulp/cast[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193750" align="aligncenter" width="321"]

Inger Johanne Brautaset: pressed,engraved and stacked pulp plates, plexiglass, steel[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193751" align="aligncenter" width="328"]

Penny Carey Wells: handmade sheets[/caption]

Sheets

The individual sheets are created in layer upon layer and form what is referred to by professionals as “post”. Traditional sheets from the 12th-century Western world were heavy, thick and impenetrable. These sheets were intended for two-dimensional applications like printing. Sheets made in the East are traditionally light, thin and transparent and intended for three-dimensional applications. Today there are many kinds of hybrid sheets. Wet sheets are very delicate, depending on the character of the raw material and the processing. Inspiration from the very sheet casting process symbolises repetition and amassment. [caption id="attachment_193752" align="aligncenter" width="403"]

Kyoko Ibe: floating handmade kozo installation[/caption] The individual sheets are created in layer upon layer and form what is referred to by professionals as post.Traditional sheets from the 12th century Western world were heavy, thick and impenetrable. These sheets were intended for two-dimensional applications like printing. Sheets made in the East are light, thin and transparent and intended for three -dimensional applications. Today, one finds many kinds of hybrid sheets. Wet sheets are very delicate, depending on the character of the raw material and the processing. Inspiration from the very sheet casting process symbolises repetition and amassment. [caption id="attachment_193753" align="aligncenter" width="473"]

Student from Kolding Design School: transparent abaca sheets.The sheets’ ability to twine and embrace space[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193754" align="aligncenter" width="219"]

Karen Stahlecker: wood, sheets and sprayed pulp.[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193755" align="aligncenter" width="468"]

Nance O’Banion: bamboo, dyed abaca paper, string.[/caption] Sheets made from plants are frequently combined with other materials: wood, metal, bamboo etc. The organic sheet is tamed and becomes part of a process where lightness and transparency adds a spherical element to the three-dimensional construction.

Constructions

Sheets made from plants are frequently combined with other materials: wood, metal, bamboo etc. Organic sheets are tanned and become part of a process, where lightness and transparency add a spherical element to the three-dimensional construction.

Artist’s Books

Sheets made from all kinds of fibers are often used for Artists’ Books - a transformation of the book term into a sculptural form. Handmade sheets made from all kinds of fibres are often used for Artist’s Books - a transformation of the book into a sculptural form. [caption id="attachment_193756" align="aligncenter" width="301"]

Dianne Reeves: kozo paper, bone[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193757" align="aligncenter" width="342"]

Pamela Moore: paper, copper[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193758" align="aligncenter" width="280"]

Vibeke Bak Hansen: mixed fibres[/caption]

Nomadic Character

In their untreated form paper and pulp are perishable like human life. Expressions of temporarity, the in-between, are interpreted with paper. In some cultures - like Nepal – the papermaking process is carried out by groups who settle for a short period in places where vegetation is abundant. As the preparation of sheets draws to an end, these nomadic groups move on. [caption id="attachment_193759" align="aligncenter" width="507"]

Josephine Tabbert: plant fibre bed, wood[/caption] Paper and pulp in their untreated form are perishable like human life. Expressions of temporarity, the in between, are interpreted with paper. In primitive cultures - like Nepal - the paper making process is carried out by groups that settle for a short period in places where vegetation is abundant. As the preparation of sheets draws to an end, these nomadic groups move on. [caption id="attachment_193760" align="aligncenter" width="264"]

Helmut Becker: house of flax fibre[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193761" align="aligncenter" width="245"]

Heinz Dieter Pietz: canopy of dyed cotton fibre[/caption]

Skin

Thin, surface-coated paper is comparable to skin. Throughout history, the paper industry has depended on textiles that possessed strength. Today, much more than the colours and structures of paper are copied: soft, fine pastels like soft Kleenex; transparent and crackly-like cellophane, but paper fibers are used for clothing as a second skin! [caption id="attachment_193762" align="aligncenter" width="414"]

Josephine Tabbert: plant fibres[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193763" align="aligncenter" width="498"]

Thomas Pupkiewiez: paper made of old rags[/caption] Thin, surface coated paper is comparable to skin. Through history, the paper industry has depended on textiles that have strength. Today much more than colours and structures of paper are copied: soft, fine pastels like soft Kleenex, transparent and crackly like cellophane. Paper has been and still is used for clothing. [caption id="attachment_193764" align="aligncenter" width="445"]

Gangolf Ulbricht: flax[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193765" align="aligncenter" width="459"]

Jane Balsgaard: surface treated abaca[/caption]

Fashion

Pulp and paper can be mixed with a variety of elements to create soft or rough textures. Wrapping paper can be surface treated and used as wearable art. Japanese Kozo fibers can be impregnated to resist water. The possibilities are endless. [caption id="attachment_193766" align="aligncenter" width="944"]

Annette Meyer: wrapping paper used as Body Emballage[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193767" align="aligncenter" width="214"]

Rikke Mai: paper mixed with cement[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193768" align="aligncenter" width="451"]

Takado Saito: kozo fibres and handmade paper cubes that give the suit sound when moving[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193769" align="aligncenter" width="223"]

Abaca fibres dyed with tea[/caption]

Jewellery

The life of paper jewellery is like that of a human being: nothing is created to last forever. Folded, layered and surfacetreated paper is used to create ornaments to decorate the body. [caption id="attachment_193770" align="aligncenter" width="817"]

(LEFT)Nel Linssen: paper necklace (CENTER)Janna Syvanoja: phone books (RIGHT)Verena Sieber-Fuchs: stamp necklace[/caption] The life of paper jewellery is like a human being’s: nothing is created to last forever

Light

Paper can transform sources of light without severing them. Light is dimmed, and its rays reveal textures in the thin and transparent surface. [caption id="attachment_193794" align="aligncenter" width="318"]

Otto Piene: perforated cardboard, lightsource[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193797" align="aligncenter" width="239"]

Coloured, oiled abaca paper[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193798" align="aligncenter" width="380"]

Anne Vilsboell: abaca and Daphne fibres, plexi- glass[/caption] Paper can transform sources of light without severing them. Light is dampened, its rays developing in the thin and transparent surface

Photo

The structure and texture of handmade paper brings a new and different life to photos that are transferred to surfaces which have been coated with emulsion. [caption id="attachment_193799" align="aligncenter" width="251"]

Helmut Loehr: collage[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193800" align="aligncenter" width="337"]

Sophie Dawson and Anne Vilsboell, photo transfer on handmade paper[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193801" align="aligncenter" width="212"]

Lena Liv: handmade paper[/caption] The structure and texture of the handmade paper brings a new and different life to photos that are transferred to these surfaces,coated with emulsion.

Watermarks - historic potential

Handmade sheets from Western paper mills always carried watermarks to tell of the origin of the sheet. Watermarks were made by applying specially prepared copper wire signs (named filigran watermark) to the mesh, wire or cloth of the casting mould. Another form of watermark is the more complicated shadow watermark that is produced by shaping the underlying mesh like a relief, making the pulp apply itself in various thicknesses according to the relief. Contemporary artists use these old techniques in a new way. [caption id="attachment_193802" align="aligncenter" width="302"]

Student from Bergen Art Academy[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193803" align="aligncenter" width="185"]

Horst Glaesker: light dome with layered paper[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193804" align="aligncenter" width="355"]

Metal wire casts shadowy watermarks[/caption]

Biological Potential

If one studies paper fibers in a microscope, one will notice that they twirl around like tiny interlinking spirals. Industrial production of paper involves huge cylinders. References to paper production processes are countless. [caption id="attachment_193805" align="aligncenter" width="307"]

Marianne Foersom: industrial paper[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193806" align="aligncenter" width="296"]

Therese Weber: handmade paper[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193807" align="aligncenter" width="312"]

Joan Giordano: handmade paper[/caption] If you study paper fibres microscopically you will notice that they twirl like tiny spirals that interlink. Industrial production of paper involves huge cylinders. References to paper production processes are countless

Furniture

Today pulp is used as an ecological material for furniture as well as cardboard and corrugated cardboard. [caption id="attachment_193808" align="aligncenter" width="271"]

Hanjo Nagel: cast, pressed Recycled paper, glue[/caption]

Pulp as well as cardboard and corrugated cardboard are used as an ecological material for furniture

Walls

Sheets are used as elements on walls or in rooms to create soft, signalling surfaces or spaces that can transform light. [caption id="attachment_193813" align="aligncenter" width="230"]

Shimus: Japanese dyed and cast fibres[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193814" align="aligncenter" width="420"]

Wall clad with paper/Japanese interior[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193815" align="aligncenter" width="264"]

Anne Vilsboell: Daphne paper on glass[/caption] Sheets are used as elements on walls or in rooms to create soft, signalling surfaces or spaces that can transform light

Painting

A painting can be constructed from paper mass alone. Pulp can be dyed, sprayed, cast and turned to flow like paint in order to make signs and surface melt into each other. [caption id="attachment_193816" align="aligncenter" width="323"]

A.R. Penck: pulp painting[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193817" align="aligncenter" width="411"]

Therese Weber: cast with dyed pulp[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193818" align="aligncenter" width="410"]

Joan Hall: handmade printed paper[/caption] A painting can be constructed from pulp alone. Pulp can be sprayed, dyed, cast and also be prepared to flow like paint to fuse the applied sign and the fundament.

Music

A healthy, handmade sheet of paper has sounds – ranging from popping to crispness. Industrially shaped alu foil, parchment, cardboard etc. - all kinds of qualities can be used when constructing a musical composition. [caption id="attachment_193819" align="aligncenter" width="346"]

Joseph Anton Riedl: Paper music. Various qualities of paper are used[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193821" align="aligncenter" width="214"]

Masaji Kashio: kozo paper date plum juice, metal wire[/caption] [caption id="attachment_193822" align="aligncenter" width="350"]

Joseph Anton Riedl: Paper music. Various qualities of paper are used[/caption] A healthy handmade sheet of paper has sound ranging from popping to crispness. Industrially shaped alu foil, parchment, cardboard etc. - all kinds of qualities can be used when a musical composition is constructed.

Performances

Paper is often used either as a stage element or as an important part of the actual play. It absorbs sound and paint, it can be folded and hung and act as an intermediary, a medium of communication.

[caption id="attachment_193823" align="alignnone" width="233"] Guy Bleus: action with paper[/caption]	[caption id="attachment_193824" align="alignnone" width="203"] Angelika Flaig: action with paper[/caption]	[caption id="attachment_193825" align="alignnone" width="261"] Guy Bleus: action with paper[/caption]
[caption id="attachment_193826" align="alignnone" width="225"] Beater, constructed by Peter Gentenaar, Holland[/caption]	[caption id="attachment_193827" align="alignnone" width="248"] Press by Walter Ruprecht, Zimbabwe[/caption]	[caption id="attachment_193828" align="alignnone" width="233"] Beater by Walter Ruprecht, Zimbabwe[/caption]

PAPER is the foundation of human beings

PAPER has potential for expansion

PAPER plays a part in cultural exchange

Anne Vilsbøll coined the term Paperism in 2000 with her lecture Paperism during the IAPMA paper conference at Abbazia de Spineto, Italy

The year 1992 and a quiet corner of India - Kaziranga National Park, Assam, home to the few rhinoceros left in the country. A young post-graduate straight out of university, yours truly, working in the villages around the park, trying to gauge local people's views about animal conservation. All around me, in people's homes, lay beautiful hand-woven textiles, resplendent with imagery drawn from the world around - handsome rhinos, agile deer, beautiful flowers and trees. Shawls, traditional towels called gamuchas and sarongs known locally as mekhelas were being produced by the women, expert weavers as customarily women fulfilled all clothing needs for the family. I was surprised to know that none of these were being sold, even though the women could easily produce for the market. This was my first introduction to the world of marketing (or rather lack of marketing) of crafts, a fascinating sphere that I have been exploring for the last decade.

To say that marketing crafts in India is a complex process is a definite understatement, given the great diversity in our country, the numerous chasms between ignorance and knowledge, practice and theory, maker and marketplace. Add to this cocktail, language and geographical barriers, cultural differences, social systems and the fact that India lives on different time scales - the rat race of hi-tech metros vs. the languid pace in remote villages where lives are dominated by seasons and not the clock. These are both realities of modern day India. Globalization, WTO, rapid socio-cultural changes, introduction of "disposable" mind-set wherein products are consumed and discarded quickly, in the face of all this, marketing crafts in India in a sustainable equitable manner is indeed a challenge. If we take a closer look at the crafts marketing scenario, there are certain aspects one can assume as absolutes. One of them, in my mind, is the fact that India has a great deal of crafts that can be marketed as they are, without any design interventions. Equally there are many crafts that can be successfully marketed once they are modified for customer usage in different contexts. Another given is the fact that even today plenty of crafts are being marketed, not always to the benefit of the maker who may get a paltry amount, but definitely at a good profit for the retailer. This brings in the immensely debated issue of the "middle-man", their role and the merits and demerits of the system. While it is heartening to note that the persistence of certain social customs contributes to the perpetuation of some crafts (such as traditional terracotta sculptures and textiles), it is also a matter of concern that the forces of globalization, changing tastes and trends, are threatening many folk arts and crafts. In a decade of marketing crafts, one has had several interesting interactions with both the maker and the marketplace. Given the fact, that one was marketing bamboo products and tribal textiles from Northeast India, both articles not commonly known or seen in other parts of India, marketing the products also became an exercise in generating awareness about the region. This was brought home clearly once again recently while unpacking baskets from Manipur for an exhibition - people thronged the stall, exclaiming "baskets from Bangkok and Bali". They were pleasantly surprised to know they were from Imphal in India. On the other hand, the distance from urban markets for the craft producers in the Northeast is not just geographical - it is also a question of mind-set and social practices. At one of our product development workshops in Meghalaya, the notion of requiring coasters was questioned by the women bamboo weavers. As they succinctly put it, "You city people need so much - something to put under your glass. Here, if we wish we can make a glass out of bamboo, use it and throw it away". A telling comment, no doubt, on to the excess that characterizes market-driven lives. However, much to their surprise and delight, the woven coasters have become quite popular in the metros, bringing a little of nature into urban homes. Interesting experiences apart, marketing of crafts in India brings into focus several sensitive issues. Where do we draw the line between conserving a craft and commercializing it? Clearly there are many craft and art forms in India, which have suffered in the process of being marketed. Madhubani art from Bihar is one clear instance where commercial activity has harmed the creative purity present in the art form. When does the process of making the craft object a commodity compromise the socio-cultural significance of the tradition and the maker? Does too successful a marketing intervention contribute to the decline of the craft? How does one achieve a balance between what the market requires and what the craftsperson/community needs? These are issues I grappled with when I began working on Naga textiles in 1996 with my associate Samuel Madeliang. We decided to move away from the traditional bold colour palette of black, red, white, yellow and green and introduced pastels and tonal shades. We also worked on non-traditional products such as cushion covers, tablemats and runners. Our goal at that point of time was to keep the skill of back-strap loom weaving, one of the most ancient forms of weaving known to mankind alive. Our research showed that there were few takers for the traditional products and if we could play with colours and forms, we might get new markets. Today, there are many more women working on the looms than ever before, producing some wonderful textiles. We are aware of the danger that too much of the product in the market will reduce the value for the textile. Another issue that always engages anyone marketing crafts in India is ensuring long-term sustainable marketing. This brings into the picture the issue of development of an entrepreneurial spirit in the craftsperson/community. It is easy to assume that this spirit can be easily found/fostered in the craftsperson but experience has shown otherwise - there are many wonderful artisans who are great at making things but are very bad when it comes to engaging with the market. One can design and implement a whole host of capacity building programmes but at one level, one has to accord the craftspeople with a status of being artistic geniuses and perhaps design marketing structures, which do not impinge on their creative abilities. The numerous state and national awards for craftspeople may have been designed to accord the status of "living treasures" but what they really bring with them in terms of benefits is open to debate. Stop for a moment to consider where these crafts are sold - they may be sold at local weekly markets, through organized traders who have distribution networks across the country, government emporias, private boutiques, export houses or government/private exhibitions in towns and cities. How much and at what rate crafts are marketed depends on the reach of the craftsperson, the distance from the market the extent to which the craft sector is organized/disorganized and on whether it is a direct sale or the number of players between the maker and the final consumer. It also depends on the infrastructure available for marketing - what mode of transportation is available to ferry the goods and how cost-effective? If it is for an overseas market, are there container-shipping facilities? Are there good packing and shipping agents? What are the communication facilities (phone lines, faxes, email connectivity) available? All of this plays an important role in ensuring goods reaching the marketplace at competitive prices. The lack of these infrastructural facilities has been a major issue for our organization in marketing crafts from Northeast India. Paradoxically, the widespread practice of having permanent exhibition grounds, especially in the major metros has contributed both to increased sales for some crafts and in some cases, to a lessening of sales - the consumers often defer their purchase till the next visit. The ease of availability has reduced the sense of urgency to buy - there is no fear of the object not being available as there will be more of the same sooner or later at the venue. In the case of marketing through traders, the maker gets very little with many of these systems being quite exploitative of the artisans. When supplying to private boutiques, there are often two major hindrances - in a bid to keep exclusivity, they may order in very small quantities that makes both production and transportation unviable, especially from Northeast India. The other issue is of payment - with many stand-alone stores preferring goods to be placed on consignment and not outright purchase. My journey in marketing crafts continues, an extremely interesting learning process with no day being the same. I am educating myself equally in the process of trying to create awareness about the products. Every day brings with it fresh challenges which my team of artisans and co-workers hope to overcome.

MARKETING NUGGETS

Getting Started The best part about starting a business in art and craft is the passion involved. Artists are doing what they like and therefore there is no dearth in passion and hence drive.There are lean times and if you do not love what you do you will be lacking stamina in carrying it forward.Just like every marketing plan involves the 4 essential P’s Product, Price, Place, Promotion lets try and superimpose them on craft products of course not surpassing the most important factor – CompetitionRight Product Although beautiful it is very essential to design and manufacture a product that is commercially viable. Therefore it is imperative that product market is well researched before going ahead. If a craft technique is being applied on a certain product the utility, size, color preferences are best studied before hand.For example a kantha embroidery done on a cushion cover will be more saleable if done on a 16*16 cushion which is the standard size. Use of non toxic colors in baby products , break resistance in products of increased usage , fine craftsmanship are just some of the examples.Right Price Deciding how to price your products is an important decision.. the following things need to be taken into consideration while pricing products. Determine Labour Cost: craftsperson paid per hour to produce products * the number of hours a week that will be spent on producing crafts Determine Product Cost Determine Overheads Determine Margins Total Product Cost = A + B + C Compare this to the cost of similar product in the market . If your cost is high then the costs need to be looked into maybe by cutting hourly rate, finding less expensive supplies. .If you have under priced then based on the difference you could tweak the margins and consider raising your price. There are many methods of pricing. I shall try and cover the same in my next article Right place Attending Small shows and exhibiting in the local exhibitions would be the most reasonable way to know response to your craft. Your craft may be beautiful but it might not be able to invoke the same response from different consumer groups. You could jot down comments and responses which will give you a feel of your product standing in the market. These would help you to sense the market and hence customize your product accordingly. Other channels could include

Retail stores selling similar family of products.
Online Avenues
Organization , clubs etc.
Consignment shops
Local gift shops

Right Promotion Promotion of crafts depends upon the promoter’s budget. It could be either above the line promotion (advertisements in newspapers, radio etc) or below the line promotion (pamphlets, leaflets, etc) Competition analysis Today the markets are flooded with products from various parts of the world. Also there are locally manufactured products which are cheaper and hence enjoy popularity. Manufactured items enjoy economy of scale and can be made with relatively lesser expense and hence could be less expensive. However not everything that is cheap sells. There are certain other attributes that a product needs to have which can help it thrive in the business world.

- Quality

One of the most important attributes of a product and hence should never be compromised. Superior workmanship, good quality of supplies will ensure good quality of product which not will ensure sales but also goodwill in the long run.

- Service

Service sounds like a big word but starts small. A simple smile, a warm greeting can help a long way in establishing a rapport with your customer whose response to your product is of primary importance.

- Uniqueness

This is one area where you can beat the corporate world hands down. Craft is in itself a USP (unique selling proposition). It offers a emotional connect which many manufactured items may not be able to compete with. The design element , the colors , the techniques that are used by a craftsperson are unbeatable . No machine or manufactured product can offer what a handcrafted product can.

- Price

Today consumers realize the value of craft and when it is combined with uniqueness quality and service it becomes a product to reckon with. High quality, hand made products is cherished world over and can demand a premium. Thus Craft is special and the same needs to be communicated through right marketing efforts. If the finer points in the selling process are looked into it will soon be a product which will race ahead and the craft world will find a new entity.

Mashru is a mixed fabric, comprising a combination of cotton and silk. It was used mainly by Muslim men, who were prohibited from wearing pure silk. It was woven all over India but the craft is now practised mainly in Gujarat. Mashru combines ikat patterns in stripes along with woven patterns, through the introduction of extra warp threads by depression of the warp threads. It is woven on a pit loom. Patan is one of the most important centres for the weaving. The weavers of Mandavi and Surat are known for their fine-quality weaves and patterns, used often by the tribal women of Sourashtra and Kutch for their cholis or blouses.

Project Undertaken:

REVIVAL OF MASHRU FABRIC; TRADITIONAL TEXTILE OF PATAN

Mashru is a warp faced satin weave fabric with a smooth glossy finish. Sometimes in the ikat technique, the striped pattern has small flower motifs or some geometrical patterns in alternate stripes. It is characterized by its bold colourful repeating patterns of stripes of various colours and sizes. The solid stripes with undiluted hues in dark pink, yellow, green, white, black placed next to each other are in high contrast. Structurally, the fabric has two faces, silk face and the reverse cotton face. This composite nature of the fabric makes it functionally as well as aesthetically promising. When used in garments the cotton layer in contact with the body forms an absorbent protective layer to the opulent and decorative exterior.

The present market consists of the rural folk and the adivasis of Gujarat, Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh. Since their garments are of social, cultural and religious significance changes in the traditional designs are very rare. (Above right)Screen printed synthetic fabrics as imitation mashru fabrics sold in shops in Mandvi, once an important center for mashru production. Photographs courtesy: chinar farooqui

HISTORY: The tradition of mashru in India is old and may be influenced by weaving traditions prevalent in Iraq and the Arab countries. Yemen was the earliest centre of ikat production in the Middle East. The Yemeni Ikat production rose as the direct result of the textile trade with India. The technique of Ikat and mordant dyeing was already practiced in India at Mohenjo Daro by around 2000 BC. The satin ikats of Turkey and Syria evolved as a variant of the Indian/Yemeni tradition, replacing the all cotton fabric with a silk warp and a cotton weft. It is believed that these thicker and more luxuriant textiles were brought to India from the Ottoman Empire from the 16th century onwards and formed the basis of Indian mashru production. With the spread of Islam in India, the group of mixed fabrics, which were made in India since ancient times came to be referred to as mashru. Mashru is an Arabic word meaning ‘permitted’. According to the Muslim religious law, shar’ia, men were not permitted to wear pure silk however silk mixed with cotton was permitted. Therefore mashru was a very popular fabric among Muslims and was traded in considerable quantity to Persia, Egypt, Turkey and other Middle Eastern, Mediterranean and African countries from the Gujarat ports.

Mashru was produced in several centers in India. Lucknow, Daryabad and Fayzabad in Uttar Pradesh and Samna in Patiala were famous for varieties of mashrus like sangi, galta, gulbadan and susi. Other centers of prolific mashru production were Bengal, Tatta in Sindh, Coromandel coast, Tanjore, Trichinopoly, Madurai in Tamilnadu, Aurangabad, Varanasi in North India. Mashru has different names based on their pattern, colour, weave, or place of manufacture. Well known varieties are alacha, qatni, gulbadan, susi, galta and sangi. Gujarat was famous for its alacha and qatni variety. The production of mashru started declining from the late 19th century. At present the production of Mashru is limited to Patan, Mandvi and Surat in Gujarat. In Andhra Pradesh a similar fabric, kutni is produced. In these centers too handloom mashru fabric is being fast replaced by mill made fabrics.

The traditional pit loom on which the mashru fabric is woven.

THE PROJECT: DESIGN DEVELOPMENT This project to revive the traditional craft of handloom mashru weaving was a synthesis between the artisans involved in the making of the mashru fabric, the NGO Gramshree; an organization that aims at development and uplifting of the weaker sections of the society and the designer, Priyanka Gaitonde from NID. The design process was initiated with identification and analyses of the available skills and resources followed by skill upgradation, improvement of the quality of the mashru fabric, design development through contemporisation of the existing design vocabulary, product diversification and experimentation to explore new innovative possibilities. Hence by experimenting with the different widths, weights and material, varying applications for the fabric were discovered that would take it beyond a simple yardage fabric and create a much more diversified product range.

MARKETING There was also a need to find avenues for marketing of the silk and cotton mashru fabric, which was being produced for the first time after several decades in Patan. A market that could sustain as well as continuously renew and develop the industry was required in order to have a contemporary design led craft. However at the same time since the new enterprise of reviving weaving of silk mashru in Patan had not been completely established, large orders were not practical. Therefore niche markets that would introduce more knowledge and design inputs and keep the industry updated at a global level were targeted. A range of designs has been developed during the course of this project. The silk and cotton mashru fabric is now available as yardages and as products like shawls and stoles. For trade enquiries please contact; Priyanka Gaitonde, Ph: 9898802976, Email: [email protected]

PROPOSAL FOR A TRAINING WORKSHOP: The manufacturing of the mashru fabric is accomplished in a series of stages involving specialized skills organized into specific professions. Two communities in Patan - the Hindu Khatris and the Shaikh Muslims, share the weaving of mashru. Starting with the supplier of the yarn, the professions occupied with the craft include the tania or the warp maker, the pavat wali who stretches and starches the warp, the saini wali who attaches the new warp threads to the old ones, the weaver, the dyer, the raach maker who constructs the raach which is an arrangement of the heddles and the reed that holds the warp threads in a particular order, kundi wala who calenders the fabric to the final vyapari or the trader who forms the link with the market. Hence, the mashru industry in Patan provides employment to artisans with varying skill sets and belonging to different religious and social backgrounds. Traditionally mashru , in Patan was a mixed fabric of silk and cotton. However over several years silk has been replaced by filament rayon, which is a cheaper substitute, more affordable to its local folk consumers who use it in their traditional attire as blouses, skirts or shawls. Besides Patan, in Mandvi and Surat, comparatively inexpensive materials like staple cotton, mercerized cotton and staple rayon are also used in the warp of the mashru fabric.

For centuries hardly any changes have been recorded in the production of mashru fabrics in Patan. The traditional pit loom has been improved by fixing the fly shuttle, dobby attachments are made on 1 or 2 looms. For calendering the heavy wooden hemispherical beater has been replaced by a hand-press. However there has been a marked depletion in the number of artisans involved in the production of mashru as compared to the census of India report, 1961, according to which there were 200 units with 400 weaving looms, about 10 warp makers and dyers, 15 repairers of warp threads, 6 warp starchers, 12 heddle and reed manufacturers of tool and 10 people for calendering the woven fabric. Apart from these there were 24 master weavers, i.e. employers who make the raw materials available to the crafts men and sell the finished goods. They may also take part in the weaving but they mostly concern themselves with control of quality and the sales. At present the mashru industry consists of a few people monopolizing the few resources. The quality of fabric produced has deteriorated. The vocabulary of designs has also reduced to a few common designs and the knowledge of raach making to construct more complicated patterns has been lost. . Currently most of the mashru weavers in Patan are very old while the younger generation of the weaver families has shifted from weaving to other more lucrative professions thus seriously endangering the continuity of this craft as we know it. Several mashru weavers have also diversified to weaving stripes and checks in cotton as these fabrics are in a greater demand and easier and cheaper to manufacture. The weavers are very poor and generally several weavers work for a vyapari or a trader. The fabric woven is of very poor quality since the weavers are paid very little, in an effort to reduce the cost of the fabric. Therefore there was a need for intervention to ensure the survival of the craft and revive the essential character and quality of the traditional mashru fabric.

Therefore the project was undertaken in this sector. The project involved studying the craft and evolving it along technical as well as formal lines. The sensibilities of the craftsmen and the craft had to be retained besides developing them to ensure their survival in the contemporary global scenario. The aim was to help build sustainable solutions for the weavers and establish strong market links. Once this was done, the intention was to form an independent weavers cooperative. Hence, through this project a dialogue was initiated between the artisan and the designer where the designer’s inputs were directed by the artisan’s inherent knowledge and sensitivity to the craft. Although Patan has several craftsmen practicing the craft of mashru weaving, most of them work as laborers, taking simple orders from the vyapari as their knowledge about weaving is very limited. Thus, there is a dire need of skilled artisans with proper knowledge of the entire process of producing fabric and who can weave good quality mashru. Therefore there is a need for a training workshop for the artisans involved in this craft. A training workshop would be essential for the artisans already weaving mashru to help them with skill upgradation, improvement of quality of the woven fabric and also broaden their knowledge about weaving so that they would be confident to take up new challenges. Also, a few members of the younger generation had shown an interest in taking up the craft if given the proper support. Therefore fresh artisans could be taught the craft of weaving. For further enquiries please contact: Priyanka Gaitonde, Ph: 9898802976, Email: [email protected]

The Sanskrit treatise on the dramatic arts - Natya Shastra (200 BCE - 200 CE) includes a section on masks as they were considered a natural extension of the performing arts. Masked performances continue to play a significant role in transforming the performers’ identity to that of the character portrayed across ritual, carnival, theatre and dance whether it be the classical, folk or tribal tradition. One such continuing tradition is the ritual martial art dance-drama of Chhau that depicts the epic battles between gods and demons, and enacts morality tales. The dance celebrating the spring festival of Chaitra Parva is customarily performed annually over a period of thirteen days in April in the Eastern states of West Bengal, Jharkhand and Odisha. Characterized by martial art and acrobatic moves that form part of the dramatic performances the origins of Chhau are hard to trace though oral histories and interpretations by scholars pointing to a rooting in ancient tribal war dance traditions. In Seraikela in Jharkhand the ritual performance is highly choreographed and stylised as it was patronized by the local rulers - the erstwhile royal family of the Singh-Deos whose patronage continues to date. While in Purulia in West Bengal the performance has been sustained over the years by the local community themselves as is apparent in the very spontaneity of the acrobatic performance. Governed by individual variants and distinct styles of performances it is in Purulia and in Seraikela where the individually hand crafted over sized masks are donned to depict the mythic attributes of the character being enacted. While In Mayurbhanj in Odisha painted faces and costumes are a substitute for the mask. It is in the village of Charida located in the Purulia district of West Bengal where over a hundred households comprising about three hundred artisans are dedicated to the craft of mask making for performing troupes from both traditions. The masks are crafted in a close collaboration with the choreographers and performers by the traditional community of Maharanas, Mohapatras and Sutradhars whose knowledge of mask making and its lore has been transmitted orally and through apprenticeship over the generations. Working in their own homes the entire family is involved in the work with each member specialising in different tasks. As the themes performed include those from the Ramayana and Mahabharat, from local myths and legends and regional tales that feature a large cast of characters the artisans skill needs to extend to an in-depth knowledge of not only the themes to be performed but the particular attributes and symbolic iconography associated with each character. Combined with their expertise in the crafting the masks make the dancers instantly recognisable. The masks whether of gods and goddesses, monsters , demons, heroes, birds, beasts and anthropomorphic representations are all crafted in two distinct parts – the face and the headdress. The faces are modeled in clay in a mould and finished with a small wood spatula - the thapi. Slits for the eye and nose are artfully cut out to ensure that the performer is comfortable in the wearing as the face is completely covered by the mask during the performance. Layered with paper and cloth strips and smoothened with clay the faces are brightly painted with bold outsized features that are theatrically communicative. The headdress also outsized is customized with feathers, beads, pearls, gold and silver tinsel, borders, flowers and all manner of accoutrements to form a frame around the mask. These large highly decorative mask-cum-headdress need to be light, yet have a lithe tensile strength to stand the rigours of the gravity defying action driven performances. Traditionally performed through the night in an open air arena the space demarcated for the performance - called either Akhada or Asar is first sanctified by ritual offerings to the patron deities ensuring success and setting the stage for the performances that follow. An all male cast of masked dancers perform to the accompaniment of an orchestra of reed pipes (mohuri), bamboo flutes, the Indian oboe (shehnai ) and a variety of drums from the cylindrical ( dhol ) to the large kettle drums (dhumsa/ nagada ). Lit with electrical bulbs and burning torches the audience for the ritual performance has been getting larger each year - both local and tourists. The dramatic arts of the Chhau dance with their iconic masks are gaining in popularity beyond the borders of the eastern states with the performers extending their repertoire beyond the traditional. As they enact and adapt the stories of Rabindranath Tagore and William Shakespeare to the Chhau style, the mask makers to adapt themselves to creating a visage that suits the character portrayed. As their fame spreads the artisans in Charida are now working through the year, continuing to create masks for performers – old and new while fulfilling orders for innovative decorative purposes as well. In 2010 Chhau dance - it's masks, costumes, music and instruments was inscribed in the UNESCO Representative list of intangible cultural heritage of humanity. While in the 2014 hit Bollywood action thriller Gundey starring Ranveer Singh, Arjun Kapoor and Priyanka Chopra has the protagonist in the climactic scene weaving his way through a dense crowd of worshippers, in the midst of the frenzy the audience is drawn to mask wearing Chhau dancers whose gravity defying movements help define the scene. First published in the Sunday Herald.

After a night of recovering from the long and bumpy journey from Dushanbe to Khorog the group headed out into the surrounding villages. We climbed even further into the snow-capped Pamir Mountains, around twisting gravel and dirt paths. At our first stop we were greeted by a group of village women who had been expecting our visit for days. We were ushered into their traditional Pamiri house and offered tea, cakes, coffee, dried fruit and nuts. Traditional Pamiri houses are originally based on Zoroastrian symbolism that was later adapted to reflect Muslim faith and stories. The houses are usually one room with five different levels surrounding a sunken, center level. In the middle of the ceiling a series of wooden squares rotate up, creating a hole in the roof where smoke escapes. Although most people now use coal or electric heaters, the houses were originally made to take advantage of the natural environment.

After the tea was finished, the women showed us their craft. Traditionally they made knitted jurabs (stockings/socks) that kept their families warm during the long and cold winters. The socks bore traditional geometric patterns specific to the Pamir region. The patterns are rumored to have been inspired by Greek art that was brought to the area with the invasion of Alexander the Great. More recently the women begun working with a local organization called De Pamiri Handicrafts to expand their skills and products. Today they make knit hats that blend traditional patterns with modern designs. These hats are one of the hottest selling items in De Pamiri’s shop in the center of Khorog.

Based in Khorog, De Pamiri Handicrafts was started in 2004 as a project under the Mountain Societies Development Support Programme. The initiative was driven by a small group of motivated and creative artisans in the surrounding villages. The project began by encouraging artisans to sell the products they made with their traditional craft skills and quickly moved on to developing more market-based designs. De Pamiri focuses on supporting the creative production of handcrafts based on traditional techniques and designs. Through this work De Pamiri fosters new economic opportunities and promotes Pamiri culture and identity. All the artisans that we met with during this trip are members of De Pamiri.

After a morning with the women of Dashtak village, the group traveled on to meet with more artisans, drink more tea and eat more bread. One of the artisan groups we visited that afternoon were producers of felt, one of the most widespread crafts in the Tajik mountains. Felt is made by arranging cleaned and carded wool, soaking it with water and then pressing it until the wool melds together. Traditionally, felt had been used to insulate the wood, stone and mud Pamiri houses during the winter. However, during Soviet control fuel was often cheaper than insulation and many people abandoned the tradition of felt making. In the past few years both women and men have started making felt rugs, pillow covers and wall hangings again as both functional and decorative items. Through De Pamiri’s work in the villages the artisans have also been able to generate income through their craft.

The next day, the assessment team continued on to another village, even higher in the mountains, on even steeper and narrower paths. We were forced to walk the last half-mile to the village because an abandoned car blocked the road. However, once we arrived at the top, we were pleasantly surprised to see some of the most innovative craft in the region. As in most cases there are a few people who stand out as leaders amongst their peers and Midensharv village contain a two of them. The two brothers that worked in Midensharv were motivated to learn new techniques and widen their markets. Although one of the brothers was a leather maker by trade, he has been creating felt rugs and toys when there weren’t enough hides to keep him busy. His willingness to build upon tradition and innovate was clear in his whimsical designs and vibrant use of color. He was also working to revive traditional natural dyes for felting and wool yarns. By using the region’s indigenous shughni plant (also used to ward off the evil eye), he had managed to create yellow, blue, green and pink dyes.

In addition to felting and wool knitting, many of the woman artisans also embroider and create beaded jewelry. Although traditional Pamiri dress was quite plain, usually a basic outfit of a tunic and pair of pants of red or white woolen material, the costumes were often embellished with intricate embroidered cuffs and necklines. The dramatic and flowing tunics were also accented with long, beaded necklaces, often reaching to the waist. And in their hair women would wear yarn and tassels braided into their plaits. Today, most women wear loose dresses and headscarves, yet the skills and patterns used to create the embroidered dresses and beaded necklaces live on in the crafts these women create.

In other parts of Tajikistan the craft varies even further. Decadent, embroidery covered wall hanging, throws and tunics. These embroidered pieces, called suzanis, are one of the most well known types of craft from Tajikistan. Other crafts include metalwork, ceramics, basket weaving and patchwork embroidery.

The history and breadth of Tajik crafts is obviously too long and wide to cover in a short column. However, I do hope that I was able to pass on a taste of the beauty and poignance of Tajik craft through these images and words.

Despite our expertise, our education and our years of experience, we can all learn so much from the smallest steps on a mountain path or a fleeting glance from a passing stranger.

This is the third and final installment in a series of articles about my recent trip to Tajikistan for a craft sector assessment.


Although Pamiri houses look small and stout from the outside, the main room inside is often large and airy.


Raw wool from local sheep is also used to create beautiful felt rugs and wall hangings. The wool shown here has been cleaned and dyed and is ready to be arranged into a pattern for a rug.		Using a newly learned cut-felt technique artisans in the Pamir Mountains are beginning to create new felt products with innovative designs. This vibrant pick and cream pillow is created with wool from local sheep and chemical dyes.


In the cold Pamiris women have traditionally knit hats and socks for their families. Working with De Pamiri Handicrafts, women now make contemporary hats with new fits and designs.		Some women have even begun experimenting with natural vegetable dyes. The hat shown here is created with Zoroastrian patterns and natural dyes from an onion.


High peaks surround the Pamiri city of Khorog where sunrises and sunsets come on quickly. It is said that in the winter there are a few places in Khorog that are never hit by sunlight.		A group of women artisans bid us farewell in front of their traditional Pamiri house. Pamiri houses are built from stones, mud and wood from the surrounding landscape.

Embroidery is widespread throughout Tajikistan and an essential part of a young bride’s trousseau. The embroidery shown here is created in stripes along a blanket so when the blanket is folded the embroidered stripes line up to create a stunning sight.


Artisans in Dushanbe (Tajikistan’s capital) have branched out beyond traditional media. These painted silk scarves and wall hangings sell very well among the Tajik upper class.		A women demonstrates how she knits the wool hats. A woman can make about 15 hats per month, including processing and spinning the wool and knitting the hat.


A painted door depicts a traditional Tajik Doll. As per Muslim tradition the face of the doll isn’t depicted, instead the artisan uses multi-colored yarn to create a diamond pattern.		On our trip to Khorog in the Pamiri Mountains, we had to cross dried riverbeds where previous spring floods had washed out bridges.


Traditional marketplaces are still in use in Dushanbe. You can find dried fruits and nuts anytime of the year and tasty fresh fruits during the summer.		Although the Tajik diet is based mainly around meat with tasty meat soups and dumplings, the dish depicted here is refreshing in the summertime with cucumbers, tomatoes, flaky bread and a thick creamy yogurt.

A few months ago I received an unexpected visitor at work. A fellow NGOer from Paris was in New York and had found his way up to Hartford to talk about Central Asia, one of the regions that I cover. He had spent several years in Kazakhstan and Tajikistan working with both cultural and craft projects. His visit was perfectly timed since I was preparing for a trip to the region in a few months. He was able to provide advice, contacts and of course, stories. After a successful afternoon of networking, he departed with a thank you and the following remark, “Once you set foot in Central Asia, it will be in your blood.” I was intrigued by his statement but not worried. The true indo-phile in me balked at the suggestion that any adopted blood other than India could ever course through my veins.

A few months later I found myself on a 30-hour plane ride that touched down in London, Moscow and finally Dushanbe. The transition from America to Central Asia left me in a fog that was the result of a little more than jetlag. After a night of sleep, a little Soviet hospitality and a reunion with my fellow travelers, the fog was gone and my sense of adventure awoken. However, the next few days only proved to stifle this sense with waiting, bureaucracy and then more waiting; all typical of emerging nations. Our original plan was to travel from Dushanbe, the capital, to Khorog, an outpost in the mountainous area bordering Afghanistan. The goal of our trip was to perform an artisan and market assessment in the Gorno-Badakshan region of Tajikistan, examining potential for crafts, artisans and markets. Our focus was on the Pamir Mountains that form the border between Tajikistan and Afghanistan, China and Kyrgyzstan. The trip to Khorog carries travelers through the peaks of several mountain chains and usually lasts about 45 minutes by helicopter. Our trip took 900. The planes and helicopters that transport passengers and cargo are often cancelled due to cloudy weather in the swallow mountain passes. The alternative route required 15 hours, two drivers, one land cruiser, one Russian jeep, five liters of bottled water and a couple cans of Pringles. There were a few moments when I felt I was in college again, embarking on a road trip to a national park. However, these moments were shattered by potholes the size of kitchen tables and sharp turns that were far too close to the road’s edge and the sheer drop to the roaring Panj River below.

But once the numbness set in and my eyesight adjusted to the ship-like rocking of the jeep, I realized the scenery that surrounded us was stunning. During the first few hours outside of Dushanbe we climbed low, green hills and watched as the cities and countryside unfolded beneath us. Further along, sharp, jagged mountains sprung out of turquoise lakes, silhouetted against perfect blue skies.As we drove closer to Afghanistan the mountains rose higher and the Panj river appeared beside us. For last 400 kilometers of the journey we traveled merely 100 meters away from Afghanistan along the Panj, with snow-capped mountains looming on either side. The road turned from pavement to gravel and the number of washed out bridges grew. At times we had to ford rivers formed from renegade mountain run off and pass under unexpected waterfalls.

The landscape was not only beautiful but telling as well. Divided only by a river, as narrow as 50 meters at some points, Afghanistan and Tajikistan have experienced very different pasts. During Soviet control, the Badakshan region of Tajikistan received major infrastructure support from Moscow, along with food supplies and resettled Russians and Tajiks. Since the region’s borders were crucial to Soviet security and hopeful expansion, Badakshan was a hotspot for development and population growth through resettlement programs. However, Afghanistan, on the southern side of the Panj, showed little signs of development.

The only road for hundreds of kilometers was a small footpath, one person wide at points where the cliffs were sheer. Tajikistan’s long strings of electric lines and concrete bridges were not paralleled on the neighboring shore. Even from the jeep I could see that Afghanis still wore traditional clothes and lived in traditional houses, while Tajiks donned western attire and used modern appliances. Although, modernity and westernization don’t always have positive affects, basic infrastructure and electricity can provide opportunities for raising living standards.

All the visual information set my mind spinning and I soon realized that we had almost reached the end of the journey. When the jeep pulled into Khorog, I was both mentally and physically exhausted, not to mention a little sick from some tainted fish I had eaten in Dushanbe. Within a day, I had recovered and was feeling ready for more information, more beautiful mountains and more history. I was also ready to finally talk with artisans and see some craft. And what I learned and saw was quite interesting….

Issue #002, Monsoon, 2019 ISSN: 2581- 9410 Tucked away into a remote corner of Rajasthan is a colony of Gaduliya Lohars, who’ve been living there for over 100 years now. Nomads by choice, most of the members of the Gaduliya Lohar tribe still travel and refuse to settle down in one place. However, some, like Hazari Lal’s family, have settled on the outskirts of cities, towns and villages. The Gaduliya Lohar tribe was once famous for making armours and weapons for the Rajput Kings. They belong to Chittorgarh and as the story goes, became nomads when Maharana Pratap lost the battle of Haldi Ghati in 1567. They remained loyal to him and followed him into the forest where he fled. After his death they vowed to never settle down and not return to their homeland till the Maharana’s regained control of Mewar. They wandered across India and made a living by making agricultural implements, tools and household tools of exceptional quality.

Today like many other handicrafts m odern India has little place for their handmade implements and tools. As a result the very identity of this tribe is at stake. Hazari Lal Lohar is one of the few in his community to take the skills of blacksmith to a level where it becomes a delicate art.Using the bare minimum of tools he handcrafts insects the size of your finger nail from scarps of iron. He has a range of flies, crickets, butterflies, ants, bugs that he beautifully handcrafts. He says that he started doing this as a hobby. As a child he was intrigued by insects and creepy crawlies around him. As is common in the tribe, he worked with his father and assisted other family members in their metal work. He soon tried to make the creepy crawlies out of iron and over the years perfected the hobby into an art and now into a full time profession. He was discouraged by his family initially as they wondered what such insects would fetch in the market. Like most parents they felt he was wasting his time. However, Hazari Lal says that once he started making these insects he just couldn’t give it up! He continued and has now refined it to a level that leaves one in awe upon seeing his insects.

He works with a basic tool set of hammers, tongs, chisel and block of iron. He heats the iron scrap in the fire created by a hand pumped fan and holding it a pair of tongs beats it with a hammer into the desired shape. He goes on to repeatedly heat and beat the metal giving it the shape and ridges of an insect. Slowly, you see the body emerging from what was a rectangular piece of iron rod. Then you see a head and a neck follows soon. The wings and legs are made separately and inserted into the insects. What makes it even more special is that the wings and the legs are joined without any welding! To make the insects more lifelike he uses brass for wings, the fineness of his work is visible in the scales on the wings of the insects and the thin, perfectly shaped legs of the creepy crawlies. Watching him beat out insects from iron makes one think that probably this is how God actually chiselled out life forms from next to nothing… giving them shape and life , all from his creativity! Making these insects is very time consuming. Sometimes it takes up to 4 people and a whole day. For the family it means a loss of 4 wage earners who could have made almost Rs. 800 for the family that day. A fly, he says takes an entire day to make. A fly, which he prices around Rs 450/- , barely leaves anything for him after accounting for all the effort and material. He says, people don’t understand the amount of skill required to make something like this. Many ask him why they should buy it when there are plenty of flies in their house already. However, some people do appreciate his art and do give him orders for insects and other miniature animals that he makes. Yet, it is tough to keep going. Exhibitions offer a good medium for him to showcase his art but living in a tiny village that is difficult to access makes things more difficult. Hazari lal and his wife have two sons who go to the village school. They study in the 5th grade. Like any father, he has big dreams for them and wants them to do well at school and study in a college some day. Whether the next generation will continue this heritage which does not guarantee any financial security is something that one is left wondering about. A difficult life and little recognition don’t make good incentives to keep the art alive. Seeing the place that such skills and crafts have in our society today it is unlikely that many will have the passion to stick to it like Hazari Lal. For many, even unskilled labour is financially more rewarding than continuing these skills. Looking at the place that such crafts have in the Indian society, it’s not hard to gauge the future of these skills. Today life is difficult for the very talented Hazari Lal and many lohars like him, but perhaps tomorrow will be a different day

Montu and Joba Chitrakar, young, twenty-something couple, are at a crossroad. What should they do with the rest of their lives? What should they teach their children? Should they continue with things as they have been for hundreds of years or should they make a bold decision to break with the past? It’s not an easy dilemma to resolve for anyone, more so for them because they are no ordinary couple. Yes, they are poor and lead a difficult life, like millions of rural poor in India. However, they are also special because they are Chitrakars (traditional scroll painters and story-tellers) from West Bengal with a rich legacy, carriers of cultural customs centuries old in a rapidly changing modern world.

The Bengali scroll tradition is an ancient one, featuring long vertical multi paneled scrolls known as patas (paintings) or jorana patas (rolled paintings) since the scrolls are rolled up for storage and transportation. Each panel represents a particular sequence in the story and as they are unrolled for viewing, the accompanying couplet or story is recited. Painted on sheets of paper glued at the edges to form one continuous roll, these scrolls are mounted on cloth (usually old saris) for greater strength and flexibility. In most instances, the men are the painter-performers while the women make pinched clay figurines and toys. It is not essential for all the painters to be singers, with many preferring to paint and not perform. Traditionally, the performer would carry these scrolls from door to door, and depending on people’s request, particular stories would be narrated for a small fee, either in cash or kind. These scrolls were seldom sold, retained for performances and repaired occasionally till they became old and faded. Single image small paintings called chaukas were and continue to be made for sale during festivals and fairs.

Bold swathes of colour punctuated by thick black outlines are a defining characteristic of this style of folk art. The forms are fleshed out, the lines gently undulating – the overall impact is dramatic and sensuous, with no hint of sharp angularity or rigid geometric forms. While the style of painting is consistent, the themes of the scrolls vary greatly – they can be religious or secular subjects such as the great Hindu epics, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, local folklore and topical social and political issues. Bengali religious practices such as the worship of the Great Goddess Durga or the Snake Goddess Manasa are highlighted in many scrolls. Episodes from the lives of popular Gods such as Krishna and Rama are also very common. Secular scrolls often deal with stories of India’s freedom struggle and major turning points in modern Indian history such as the assassinations of former Prime Ministers Indira Gandhi and her son Rajiv Gandhi. The narrative aspect of this scroll painting tradition lends itself very well to the depiction of social issues such as the need for family planning, AIDS prevention, environmental awareness, immunization, anti-dowry campaigns, etc. In fact, this art form holds great potential to be an effective tool in awareness generation.

Montu Chitrakar, born into a scroll painter’s family, has been playing with colours since he was a child, much like his own son Sanjay, who at nine turns out charming pictures. Montu began early, learning from the elders in the extended family, imbibing both consciously and unconsciously all the identity markers of his tradition. He learnt how to paint and colour, painstakingly preparing all his paints from natural elements – the black of burnt rice husk, the yellow from turmeric, mixing each colour with the sticky fluid of the bael (wood apple). He learnt how to sing the traditional Bengali songs, learning not just the words but to use his voice as a powerful instrument. He memorized stories from the holy books, folk tales and local myths, committing them to his heart. Soon, he was the painting, the song, the story – he became one with his art.

Montu’s passion for the art form he practices sets him apart, both as an artist and a person. There is no mistaking the pride he takes in his work, the soaring energy of his voice as he sings out the story in the scroll. So powerful is his involvement in his art that watching him perform is guaranteed to stun you – you may not understand the language he sings in (Bengali) but you surely can recognize the pathos, the pain, the anguish and the joy. Watching him unroll the scroll frame by frame and pour his heart out in his singing out the story, you are elated – this is truly communication without language, akin to a deeply satisfying spiritual experience, the sheer brazen power of his voice, singing with no accompanying instruments taking you on an intense journey. For a moment, you feel awkward, his deep involvement in the moment and his total lack of self-consciousness in a way drawing out your own “non-committal” stance in life. Either way, here is a performance that will not leave you untouched – for Montu, his art is not just his livelihood but also his life.

His desire to innovate with form and content has taken him far in his artistic odyssey. He is hungry all the time for fresh ideas and stories, anything to push the boundaries of his art. News on the radio, films he has watched in languages he does not understand, stories he has heard, conversations swirling around him – everything is grist to his mill. His works of art are created like a pearl in an oyster – a central idea onto which layers of meaning and imagery are added slowly to build up to an impressive finale. His repertoire of scrolls includes traditional religious and folk tales as well as topical issues such as the earthquake in Gujarat, religious riots, women’s rights, AIDS and the environment. Within the spatial confines of the scroll format, he explores new worlds and vistas, some of them million times removed from his own. He experiments with cultural barriers, telling a familiar story in an unfamiliar manner – his scroll on the French revolution depict very Indian faces and is accompanied by a song in Bengali but is painstaking in attention to historic authenticity, featuring in the last panel, a guillotine with a severed head.

Combining song and drawing to effectively tell a story requires the artist to be a master of several skills. One needs to have a highly developed sense of form and content and the ability to relate a static medium (the painted paper) with two dynamic processes (singing and story-telling). One needs to be able to compose, to emote and to convey meaning to the painted world depicted in the scroll. Montu is able to do this with great panache – the scroll on the devastating earthquake in Gujarat in 2001 begins with an uprooted tree painted hanging upside down, the roots sticking out in the air. This stark, dramatic image sets the tone for the song that is in essence, a lament for those dead and those left bereaved. One of his most powerful scrolls was the result of listening to news reports on the violent Hindu-Muslim riots in Gujarat. “The Gujarat Riot” scroll is compelling , not just in its visuals but also for the song he specially composed which has a very moving refrain “Ek Maaer Santaan “ which translates into “We are the Children of One Mother”.

Joba Chitrakar began painting after her marriage and the birth of her children. At first she was hesitant, afraid that she would spoil the paper and waste the paint. She began by filling in the blocks of colour in Montu’s larger paintings so that he could concentrate on working on the details and outlines in black. Soon, she wanted more – not content with colouring Montu’s work and not wanting to blindly copy his work, she began experimenting on small sheets of paper. She had seen many old Santhal jadupatua scrolls from eastern India, depicting the Santhal story of origin and village customs. Inspired by these, she began creating small drawings and then moved onto larger scrolls depicting Santhal village life – scenes of hunting, dancing, working in the rice fields. Her work differs from the original in that she uses colourful backgrounds and thick, bold strokes whereas in the jadupatua scrolls, the drawings are thin and delicate against a white base. She has created her own reservoir of imagery, her own style of painting in a very short while, graduating from being an understudy to a full-fledged artist. Though nowhere as prolific as her husband, she is creating a niche for herself as an individual artist, learning some of the songs and overcoming her shyness to sing in public.

Clearly, a fascinating world of art and culture, poetry and performance permeates the lives of this young couple. But life is uncertain – what social and financial guarantees does the future hold for them? Time has played a nasty trick on them – on one hand, museums, universities and private collectors abroad are keen to buy examples of their work and on the other, the spread of cable television and rapid urbanization has swallowed a large segment of their traditional audience. The collectors and institutes value the art as a “dying and disappearing art form” and have a limit on how much they can or are willing to buy. What happens when they reach their saturation point – when buying more does not make sense? Where is the new audience for Montu, Joba and others like them? Their scrolls, out of context, are “too long to hang up on the wall”, too bulky to store”. Who has the time to sit through a performance that too in a language one does not understand, at a time when email, SMS and mobile telephones wrap you in one continuous thread of connectivity? Where do Montu and Joba go from here?

Issue #10, 2023 ISSN: 2581- 9410 While driving down the dusty roads of Uttar Pradesh, long grass with white flowering ends can be sighted often, along the riverbanks, known as the Moonj Grass. Moonj is a type of grass that grows throughout the yeaPreviewr, where there is plenty of water, and is harvested after the first monsoon rain. It plays a leading role in the Moonj Craft. Women artisans living in the village have been using this grass to make beautiful, hand-crafted baskets for many generations. Saccharum Munja [the botanical name for Moonj/Munj or Sarkanda] is one of the seasonal grasses that grow wild in the Tarai region of North India and extends from Uttarakhand all the way down to Allahabad. Moonj has been identified as the One District, One Product Programme (ODOP) of Praygraj (Allahabad) district. The ODOP aims to encourage indigenous and specialized crafts of each district.

Moonj or Sirki grass products are diverse, and crafted in many villages across Uttarakhand and Uttar Pradesh, however, they aren’t very well documented. The popular Mudha, that has been made and sold along the roadside in Ghaziabad, is probably the most recognised variation of Moonj. Traditionally, the Mudhas were crafted by only using the grass, where the Sarkanda stalk was used as a whole, and was bound by the twisted rope of Moonj. As one travels towards the villages, dalias or containers can be seen hand-crafted from this grass. [caption id="attachment_197784" align="aligncenter" width="640"]

Dalmia Bharat Moonj Workshop[/caption] [caption id="attachment_197783" align="aligncenter" width="640"]

Dalmia project[/caption] Long stems of Moonj are harvested and stored for the year. The grass is sun dried and then long lustrous outer edge of the grass is split using a thuja or needle and then rolled into loosely twisted bundles. These can be easily dyed in this form and also stored in larger quantities. The dyes used to colour the grass are direct dyes that are easily available in in the market. The women dye the grass in small vessels. The direct dyes are available in popular pinks, greens, reds. [caption id="attachment_197782" align="aligncenter" width="640"]

DBF Keswamau[/caption] While the outcome of the sirki grass products are various size containers that are made using a coiling technique. The outcome can be small jewellery boxes (traditionally made for dowry) to large dalia’s used to store grains and vegetables. Mostly Kaans – another grass that is found along with moonj is twisted into tight ropes and coiled while moonj is used to wrap and tie it in a coil that slowly builds to any desired size. If the moonj covers the inside grass it’s called ‘pukka kaam’ or else kuchcha kaam that is only partially covering the inside grass. Moonj is also plied into ropes, and can be seen drying in several houses. Annually charpai’s are made using this moonj rope. Moonj is a very sturdy grass that has a long filament. When multiple strands are twisted together its strength and durability increases. The natural lustre of the grass probably also gives it natural durability that lasts for years without it cracking or breaking.

When dyed in azo free dyes the grass did not absorb any colour. It was sent for natural dyeing and the results were similar. The only way to dye the grass was to break through the natural oily layer of the grass. However once that was done the grass became fragile and started to break into smaller pieces hence didn’t prove to be a worthwhile experiment.

The moonj grass when split can be used flat. In a few remote villages near Lucknow I saw beautiful hand fans made by weaving the grass. The process was simple - multiple long flat strands were bound with a thread on a horizontal full stem. The result was a makeshift warp that was created, and the artisan held it flat down with her foot while she wove in flat strands that were dyed in another colour to created different motifs. The top portion was woven and the entire set was reversed and the other side was woven. After weaving the three loose sides were sewn and pcs of recycled fabrics were sewn on the edges. The solid stem that was the main bone of the loom earlier was reinforced with a bamboo rod twice the length of the fan. This was hand held to fan. The memory of sitting on a cool mud floor where many young children gathered while the village women demonstrated the fan weaving is still fresh in my mind. I cannot help but wonder how many different techniques this wonder grass is being used for.

Each village has had a different use. The women who convert this grass for utility products are the ones who otherwise work in the fields to harvest the wheat. They are daily wage earners and during the harvest season they get busy in the fields. The deep understanding of their environment, the complete harmony and the joy in their simplicity is striking. They are in economic terms at the bottom of the pyramid. However, for me they are actually our answer to our climate issues and our multiple complex questions of sustainability.

"OXFAM CATALOGUE SYNDROME"

Production For Modernisation

Design And Designers

MARKETING NUGGETS

REVIVAL OF MASHRU FABRIC; TRADITIONAL TEXTILE OF PATAN