Tale of Napasar, A Quest for Identity of Handloom Weavers

Issue #002, Monsoon, 2019                                                              ISSN: 2581- 9410

Introduction India is a rich country of diverse cultures and heritages. Almost all the states of India are represented by their particular cultures and traditions. The article talks about one such state from India, which is a legend in itself for its culture, traditions and heritages, called Rajasthan.

Bikaner in Rajasthan is a city famous for its wool named on its place called Bikaneri wool. This wool is used as a cheaper substitute to New Zealand’s wool used in carpets and rugs. Bikaner as district has 926 villages under it.
Location of Nagasar

One such village in Bikaner district is Napasar. It is a weaver’s hub on a road trip of 20 Kilometers away from Bikaner city. There are private as well as government buses which connect this village to other villages around Bikaner. In earlier times, camel cart were used as transportation, but with the advent of the technology people started using cars, bikes and other transportation vehicles. The village has a railway station which connects it through trains coming from various parts of India.

People of Napasar Population As per the population of India website (2014), the total population of Napasar is 19500, out of which 10101 are males and the rest 9399 are females. Most of the population of Napasar belongs to Brahman and Baniya castes. This village is small and is divided in different mohallas like Uttaradwas, Goyalon ka Mohalla and Deshnok roads. The major percentages of weavers and spinners are residing in these sections of the village

Literacy Most of the men of the village have acquired education till middle school and there are very few of men who have done senior secondary or are doing graduation. On the other hand most of the women of older ages are completely uneducated, while there are also women of younger ages who are educated till senior secondary levels. The research revealed that the aim of acquiring education is becoming essential with the younger generation be it male or females.

Profession Napasar is a place of semi arid zone, where farming is done only for three to four months in a year. Therefore most of the people are dependent on textile industry for earning their livelihood. Khadi Gram Udyog and few other khadi institutions are providing job to spinners and weavers in the village. Most of the women of this village are hand spinners and they are either helping their family profession or are working as freelance spinners for different organizations or persons. Almost all the weavers of Napasar have agricultural land and they do farming during the season which lasts for 3 to four months in a year. Most of the family members are involved in weaving and spinning but there are few families, where younger generation has now opted professions out of the textile industry which gives them steady and continuous salaries. Almost every house in a village has a loom. So either one or more than one family member is involved in weaving at home. There are also a few other weavers who are attached with NGOs outside Napasar, or work as daily wage weavers at carpet and textile factories in Bikaner. As per an old weaver’s information there were around 500 weavers approximately in Napasar till few years back, but with the recession in the market and income getting lesser many weavers have changed their professions, while many have moved out of the village, decreasing the numbers of weavers in the present. The weavers of Napasar work in different clusters or groups.Sometimes they even work individually. Many clusters are producing just the fabrics like solid cottons, striped cottons, extra weft cottons, woollen shawls and woollen aasans, which are later stitched to make garments for vendors like Fabindia or other fashion brands like Desert Craft, Maandana etc.

Napasar Hathkargha Vikas Samiti In this slow and poor condition of weaving profession, there is still a hope for many weavers by a cluster called as Napasar Hathkargha Vikas Samiti. This samiti is a group of weavers working together under one roof in a workshop located at Deshnok road. The cluster workshop was started by the aid of Rangsutra, an NGO headed by Ms. Sumita Ghose based in Delhi with its branches at Banaras and Bikaner. This cluster is presently, serving to the fabric demands of Rangsutra and few other small organizations like Maandana a fashion boutique from Bikaner. The cluster is headed by Om Prakash Meghwal ji and Tulsiram ji. They are the most experienced and resourceful personalities of the cluster. Om ji is in his middle age and handles all the administrative work of the cluster. He has acquired education till senior secondary school. Along with handling all the accounts work, he also manages all the raw material sourcing, meetings and communication on behalf of thecluster. He is also an excellent weaver by himself.

Tulsiram ji is a proficient and sample weaver of the cluster. He guides and trains other weavers working in the cluster workshop. He along with Om ji takes care of all the production orders. His career of weaving is more than forty years, and he is among the few who remembers about the age old techniques of fabric production and its raw materials at Napasar.

Currently the cluster has 9 weavers on the list, and the number keeps increasing and decreasing depending on the amount of work with the cluster. The fabric production in the workshop is of mainly 100% cotton fabric in various densities and weights. The fabric is mainly used in apparels. There are about 7 big width looms and two small widths loom, with one sample loom created by Tulsiram ji. The cluster is developing fabrics for kurtas, waistcoats and lowers both for males and females. There are few more younger weavers in the cluster like:

Govardhan, who is a young weaver attached with the cluster since past few years. He is trained by his forefathers to weave. He intends to carry weaving as his profession for income generation.

Ashok is the son of Tulsiram ji and is a young weaver. He has inherited the weaving craft from his father and forefathers. He also works independently as freelance weaver for other organizations along with the cluster.

Ramesh is the youngest weaver among all. He is just 19 years old and he hasn’t inherited the craft from his father or forefathers. He has learnt the craft of weaving at the cluster from Omji and Tulsiram ji. He doesn’t have loom at home, so he is completely involved with the cluster work.

Handloom fabrics of Napasar

Napasar is famous for its cotton fabrics production. The fabrics are produced on looms having 4 harnesses mostly. The yarn used is majorly 2/60s count which is sourced and dyed in Bikaner. The weavers produce solid color fabrics which have warps and wefts of same color. Along with solid color fabrics, chambray fabrics are also created. The warp of these fabrics is of one color and the weft is of another color. This gives a double color look to the fabric. Warp striped pattern fabrics using sectional warp techniques are also produced in Napasar. There is a new development in the cluster work where usage of extra warp patterning is seen. The fabrics so developed are used for various puposes.

The major problem of the cluster is its dependency on yarns which are manufactured and dyed in factories in Bikaner. However the cluster still manages to produce good quality 100% cotton fabrics for developing apparels as well as home products after stitching. Almost 95% of the products from Napasar are unstitched which includes products like stoles, shawls, chindi dhurries, single  bed cotton linens and towels.

Weavers outside Napasar Hathkargha Vikas Samiti are creating woolen shawls and aasans given by Khadi Gram Udyogs or Pratisthans. This is a place where earlier double cloth fabrics were made of camel hair which were used as floor coverings. Also the double cloth technique was utilized in making large width carpets on smaller width looms. However with the elapse of time, the craft of making double cloth is lost and usage of camel hair as fibers is forgotten. Reason being that currently most of the homes at Napasar have replaced camels by transportation mediums like cars, bikes and cycles, which in turn have reduced the number of camels in the village. This has negatively affected all the crafts and products associated with the camels. The Napasar Hathkargha Vikas Samiti is trying to revive one such forgotten craft of its traditional weaving along with generating income sources for their weavers in its village. The cluster wants to give an identity to its village and its craft in local, national and international markets with quality products and designs.

References

http/www.bikanertourism.com

http/www.weather-forecast.com

http/www.msmedijaipur.gov.in/dips_bikaner.pdf

http/www.napasar.info/home/History

http/www.populationofindia.co.in/rajasthan/bikaner/bikaner/.napasar

http/www.napasarweaves.com

 

Teaching Craft Heritage in Schools: Introductory Essay,
Issue #008, 2021                                                                              ISSN: 2581- 9410 Traditional craftsmanship is perhaps the most tangible manifestation of intangible cultural heritage. And it finds many varied ways to manifest in our daily lives – in the form of tools, decorative art, ritual objects, musical instruments, toys, household utensils, jewellery, costumes, textiles, traditional architecture and much more. Globalization, industrialization and consumerism has posed significant threat to the survival of these traditional forms of craftsmanship, like other forms of intangible cultural heritage. Over the past centuries, much of our Cultural Heritage has been irretrievably lost. We have witnessed and continue to witness the destruction and deterioration of these irreplaceable treasures. Other underlying causes of this prolonged and continuing tragedy are ignorance, indifference, lack of care and lack of appreciation. Since a significant part of our unique cultural heritage is retained in handicrafts, architecture and traditions, this heritage needs to be identified and protected or it may disappear forever. Thus, several cultural heritage experts have highlighted the need for safeguarding our traditional crafts not only to keep the community’s identity but also to give economic advantage and other values. Let’s understand what are these other values associated with Craft Heritage. It expresses a sense of community and ethnicity. Because craft is an expression of culture which conveys the spirit of the people who created them, it can help young people to acquire inter- and intra- cultural understanding and invite cross-cultural communication. Understanding one’s Cultural heritage teaches openness towards those who are different from each other. By putting people in touch with our own and other people's feelings, the culture/heritage mapping teaches one of the great civilizing capacities – how to be empathetic. It has the enormous power to join people of different backgrounds. Together people can discuss the shared symbols of their collective memory and consequently work together to rebuild their own identities. Accepting cultural diversity and its understanding helps develop mutual respect and renewed dialogue amongst different cultures In this sense cultural heritage also plays a vital role in the democratization process. Not so long-ago policy makers recognized that culture is imperative to any country in development, be it rich or poor. And that craft heritage can make a valuable contribution to conflict resolution as well. Since culture is ever evolving - resulting from a constant selection process for both cultural and political reasons, an understanding of this also gives a sense of what we have lost and what we have retained from the past (both tangible and intangible) – and hence what to retain consciously for the next generations. The future of our remaining craft heritage will depend largely on the decisions and actions of the present generation of young people who will soon become the leaders and decision-makers of tomorrow. In the above context, teaching about cultural heritage in schools becomes very crucial. Education at all stages has been regarded as a powerful instrument for social transformation. One of the major tasks of education in India today is to usher in a democratic, socialistic, secular society which removes prejudices among people. The objective of bringing in our Craft Heritage in schools is to help in the realization of these goals. Craft Heritage Education, therefore, in schools advocates the reaffirmation of identity, mutual respect, dialogue, unity in diversity, solidarity and a positive interaction among the cultures of the world. This issue presents views and essays on the above topic, by experts in the field. Ashoke Chatterjee writes about the quest, the purpose and the relevance of Craft Education in schools in India, learning from past experiences and preparing for the future.

MP Ranjan has written about encouraging the development of fine craftsmanship capabilities across the entire Indian population to make India a creative economy of the future. The paper outlines ways in which new education for the creative economy can leverage the living resources of the Indian craft traditions to build a better and more rooted curriculum of the future for all students that is a vehicle for nurturing the creative traditions that India has been best known for, in the past.

I would like to thank Aditi Ranjan and NID Ahmedabad to allow us to republish MP Ranjan’s article in our issue.

Geetanjali Krishna writes about Shamsheer Ali, a Naqsha artist from village Khamaria in Uttar Pradesh and how he has altered the landscape of his community through his teaching skills, where craft remains tightly intertwined with people’s daily lives and livelihoods. Khyati Vinod and Shinjini present a case study of Khamir’s craft integrated curriculums for local schools in Bhuj, and the learnings from the same. With artisans extending their role from craft producers to cultural practitioners and teachers, this article relooks at the age-old debate between a literate individual versus an educated individual. Aruj Khaleeq, an interdisciplinary educationist from Pakistan who has been associated with educational leadership shares the perspectives of Educationists from Pakistan on inclusion of Craft Heritage in schools in Pakistan. Iti Saanchie Goswamy, a young design student explores the IT capital of India, Bengaluru to see how the traditional crafts people living in Bengaluru make best of the two worlds that coexist; understand their challenges to safeguard their traditional practices in a Globalized World of machines and technology; and compare the modern vis-à-vis the traditional ways of learning and passing on the knowledge, through a beautiful narrative of her personal experiences. It has been a pleasure to put together this issue for Ritu Sethi and Craft Revical Trust. I thank Ritu and Ahmad for their patience through the whole process especially the numerous delays due to Covid. I would also like to thank all the experts for their time and contributions. It's been a very fulfilling experience indeed. Hope you enjoy reading through the articles.

Teaching Rug Hooking In Guatemala, A Non-Traditional Technique within a Traditional Craft Community
Issue #006, Autumn, 2020                                                                       ISSN: 2581- 9410 This article describes an income-earning initiative for rural Maya artisans that my 3 colleagues and I established in Guatemala in 2009. We introduced a non-traditional craft, called rug hooking, and we created a design curriculum where literacy and numeracy were not a prerequisite for participation. About a year after introducing the craft, sensing the economic potential of hooked rugs to transform their livelihoods, we trained 9 of the rug makers as design teachers who in turn, trained more women. Within five years nearly 60 women were hooking rugs. My colleagues and I formed a legal Guatemalan non-profit called Multicolores. Our mission is to expand opportunities for our artisan members. Notably:
  • Within 5 years of the first rug making class, in 2014 Multicolores was accepted to the International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico, the world’s most rigorously juried folk art event.
  • Within six years of the first rug making class, in 2015 the women were recognized by the Alliance for Artisan Enterprise, a global competition sponsored by the Aspen Institute and US State Department to bring attention to the Craft Sector of the global economy, 65% of which is created by women.
  • In 2019, ten years after the first rug making class, the International Folk Art Market bestowed one of six Community Impact Awards upon Multicolores in recognition of the economic impact of rug money upon the communities where the artisans reside.
Each of my colleagues: Jody Slocum, Reyna Pretzantzin and Cheryl Conway Daly played key roles in establishing the program’s success. Our collective dedication and belief in the innate artistry of Maya women continues to change lives. Jody lent her indefatigable energy to solve operational challenges like shipping, sourcing materials and more. Along with her empathetic heart, Reyna lent her knowledge of Maya culture and her exacting standards; the women trusted her and their bond created pathways for progress on many levels. Cheryl’s extraordinary attention to detail meant we could collect and record empirical data to track impact, and keep accounting records as well as friendly and frequent contact with donors. My contributions included teaching the technique and adapting my design curriculum to teach women with little or no formal education. In 2006 I travelled to Guatemala as a textile artist seeking inspiration and a desire to purchase pieces that would inform my studio practice. Guatemala is among the rare group of countries around the globe with vibrant living textile traditions. If you’re able to decipher Maya traje, or traditional clothing, for clues embedded within their hand woven or embroidered dress, you will understand -at a glance- information about the wearer. Information includes location of the wearer’s village and more. I wanted to collect pieces to examine and study for inspiration. Huipil (women’s blouse hand woven on a backstrap loom) from Chichicastenango. Photo Credit: David Husom While in Guatemala I met several dedicated women leading small artisan non-profits. They worked to create income-earning opportunities for rural Maya artisans marginalized by their paternalistic society through systemic poverty, racism, and more. I tried –without success- to reconcile the artisan’s poverty with their extraordinary textile accomplishments. The artisans weave complex and sophisticated cloth on backstrap looms- a loom that, after-all, is nothing more then a collection of sticks and threads. Yet, for many artisans, in spite of their weaving proficiency access to opportunity is denied and relentless poverty is a pervasive fact of life. In order to remain competitive in the global market place, I knew these non-profit groups were continually interested in expanding their textile repertoire. And so Jody, an accomplished weaver, good friend and traveling companion and I offered to teach a weekend-long workshop on how-to-hook rugs. I reasoned that rug hooking, like back strap weaving, is a portable technique and therefore might appeal to the women. “Paca,” or recycled clothing would provide a readily available and affordable source of rug materials. (Paca arrives in Guatemala from the US by the bale: it’s a thriving industry.) Jody’s and my class was to teach the technique and then let our non-profit host, Oxlajuj Batz’ take it from there. Picking through piles of ‘paca’ for suitable rug material Photo Credit: Mary Anne, Wise Paca store. Photo Credit: Mary Littrell After the first class I began to understand that non-profits often did not possess the funds or capacity to fully explore the potential of a new craft like rug hooking. However, as a professional textile artist and design teacher, along with my knowledge of the US market, I had an inkling of the crafts potential in a way the non-profit leaders did not. When asked to teach a second workshop I readily agreed with one proviso: each participant would create her own design and the designs would be informed by the women’s traje. Rug hooking is not a traditional craft- but by drawing inspiration from their extraordinary textile heritage- their cultural property- their rug designs, I reasoned, might stand out on the global stage. They could reinterpret tiny brocaded or embroidered elements of traje to create large-scale rug designs that speak of Maya heritage and culture. Drawing a rug design at scale with inspiration from traje Photo Credit: Mary Anne, Wise   woman’s hand woven brocaded huipil (blouse) from Chajul, Guatemala. Photo Credit: David Husom Working as a dedicated team, Jody and I connected with Reyna Pretzantzin and Cheryl Conway Daly to establish a legal Guatemalan non-profit called Multicolores. All of us had glimpsed the potential for this technique as a possible economic game-changer for the rug makers. Now, by forming our own Guatemalan based non-profit we could freely explore the craft’s potential. Cheryl and Reyna would run the organization from Guatemala. In between our quarterly trips to Guatemala Jody and I would ply our networks in the US for support and more. In Guatemala, Multicolores would purchase the women’s rugs outright, not on consignment. In the US Jody and I would conduct rug sales. Proceeds would be returned to Multicolores. Reyna, a professional Maya woman with a background in business and craft production and I worked closely as a teaching team. Her understanding of the women’s skill sets and cultural mores were indispensible: she knew when to push the students harder- and when to pull back. Next was to coalesce the class around a list of six design principles. These principles conveyed, I thought, the most essential design concepts to create compelling works. The students, ages 15-48 years old, with zero-6 years of formal schooling, were tasked with creating icons to represent each principle. For the non-literate students, the icons made for familiar reference. Design Principles: The design principles taped to the classroom wall. Photo Credit: Mary Anne, Wise  
  1. Derive design inspiration from traje.
  2. Avoid common (trite) imagery, imagery such as hearts and houses that could originate from any culture anywhere.
  3. Combining figurative and geometric imagery is Ok.
  4. Vary the scale of your design elements.
  5. Infuse your design with vitality. The diamond on the left is plain; by adding additional elements to the diamond you create energy.
  6. The rug’s border should be proportionate to the rug’s dimensions.
To convey the importance of Design Principle #1, we discussed their awareness of traje on the global stage. Did the students understand the uniqueness of their textile traditions and heritage, did they know that Guatemala’s traditional hand woven clothing is valued by museums and collectors the world-over? Some of the students, those who wove artisan products for other NGO’s understood this but most of the women did not. Still, to coalesce our rug designs around this first important principle, Reyna and I agreed it was important to arrive at a consensus as a class. Knowing that few of the women own books, let alone books on various global textile traditions, I’d brought books on the topic with me to class. I wanted the students to see images of their clothing in books because seeing ‘themselves’ in books, I reasoned, they would comprehend the importance of traje. And by extension: the importance of traje as rug designs. Then, with an idea for an impromptu lesson in mind, I stood before the women wearing my travel ‘uniform’ consisting of a plain colored linen shirt and skirt. I asked the women to draw a rug design inspired by my clothing. They picked up their pencils gamely and began to draw. Some used my shirt’s pocket as a repeat; some adorned their designs with repeats of my shirt’s buttons. But their designs were flat and uninteresting. Next, I asked Zoila to stand before the class. Zoila, I knew, is a master weaver who creates every stitch of every article of her elaborate traje. With Zoila before them the women began to draw and draw and draw. They’d arrived on rich and fertile ground. If an object lesson met an impasse, such as an exercise on varying the scale of your design elements to increase a design’s vitality, Reyna, as my co-teacher, would consider another way of presenting the same information. She would often suggest role-playing. Then we’d buddy-up: she’d play the teacher and I would play the student in a critique in front of the class. She would comment on my design, offer positive feedback and ask, “but what would your design look like if you varied the scale of your design elements instead of all elements being the same scale?” I would feign ignorance. Then, reaching for my design templates, I would choose templates in a variety of scale to demonstrate how my design improved. We would then pair the students in buddy-teams and each team would role-play the same lesson –in this instance Design Principle #4- until comprehension dawned.   Buddying up to role-play teacher-student. Photo Credit: Mary Anne, Wise For many of the students the use of templates is a familiar practice, although with a far different application then we were using in our class. Easter is the most popular celebration in Guatemala. At Easter time, by day, religious societies and neighborhood organizations create elaborate temporary ‘street rugs’ to be admired by the community. The street rugs are made with flower petals, pine needles, colored sawdust, and other biodegradable materials. Templates cut from sheets of plywood help guide the creation of the designs. Then, by evening, religious processions along with marching bands parade through the streets destroying the temporary rugs.   Semana Santa template. Photo Credit: Mary Anne, Wise   Colored sawdust used to create a Semana Santa street rug. Photo Credit: Mary Anne, Wise Over an eighteen month long period I travelled to Guatemala quarterly to conduct workshops. From one workshop to the next Reyna and I built on sequential skill sets. In between workshops, Reyna provided follow-up, ensuring the women comprehended and implemented the workshop’s object lessons. The women would travel to our small office, some traveling from homes located four hours and many bus transfers away, to deliver rugs and receive payment. At the office, they would be welcomed with a snack and then Reyna would offer feedback, sometimes requiring the artist to change her design on the spot to comply with the design criterion before getting paid. Other times Cheryl and Reyna travelled these same long routes to visit the rug makers in their remote villages. The two checked on production progress and also followed up with the artists-as-design-teachers to determine how the transfer of information was proceeding. Cheryl gathered baseline empirical data (number of people living in the dwelling, how many children lived in the dwelling and more). They also noted if the home had electricity or if there was a table and chair for the artisan to work upon- or- did the artist work at rug making while propped upon the family bed? It was during these community visits that seeds for Multicolores’ social programs were planted. (Multicolores now offers social services to our artisan members. The services require a measure of co-payment from the artists; we do not believe in ‘hand outs.’ Services include a program to buy furniture and lighting for the artist’s workplace, a family-wide health insurance plan and more.) One day Yolanda, an accomplished traje weaver with an entrepreneurial spirit, whose rugs were consistently among the first to sell in any collection, complained to Reyna about the wages paid. She believed her rugs were a higher value then others because her rugs were more detailed and she did not think it fair that she was paid the same price as everyone else. She was right. A class discussion ensued about critiquing each rug. It was important to agree upon criteria for craftsmanship, color and design- and then assign a wage scale accordingly. We threw rugs on the floor until rugs covered the entire room. On our hands and knees we crawled across the floor examining each rug as a lively discussion ensued. Examining rugs to arrive at a consensus on quality and pricing. Photo Credit: Mary Anne, Wise Eventually Reyna asked the women, “Could they see a difference in quality- did some rugs have more detail then others?” “Yes,” they all replied, some rugs had much more detail then others. “Did some rugs adhere more closely to the design principles?” “Yes,” they did. “Were some rugs better crafted- for example, did some rugs lay more flat or have fewer threads on the surface?”  “Yes,” they could see that too. “Well,” she asked, “do you think the rugs that are better crafted, that adhere to the design principles and have more detail should receive a higher price?” “Yes,” everyone agreed. Then she asked the women to carefully examine all the rugs one more time because we would now vote on rugs possessing the best examples in each of the three categories and their votes would define criterion henceforth -along with prices paid. Reyna gave each woman bits of paper to vote their opinion on: 1) best craftsmanship (the rug laid flat and had little or no frayed threads resting on the rug’s surface); 2) the design was taken from traje; and 3) the rug was detailed and possessed energy and vitality. Votes were tallied and scores were announced. Some of the women lobbied for a higher score but eventually all rugs were graded and the women had arrived, more or less, at a consensus. Their decision resulted in a three-tiered pricing system and very quickly thereafter, almost overnight, or so it seemed, design and craftsmanship improved. Like artists everywhere, the women’s designs continue to evolve. A 2018 Story Rug workshop built upon the women’s design skills with two new compositional techniques. Composition making techniques covered in this workshop, with ongoing follow up conducted by Maddy Kreider Carlson, Multicolores’ new Creative Director were: 1. Incongruous use of imagery. (Think of the Mexican painter Frieda Kahlo’s self portrait as a wounded deer. Incongruous use of imagery invites combining images which may not exist in real life to convey an emotional truth.) And 2. Hierarchical proportion (the use of exaggerated scale to signify importance and design focal point). As a result of this workshop, and Maddy’s on-going follow-up, the women accessed fertile new sources of design inspiration. Incorporating their new knowledge with their previous skills, the artists began to create rugs portraying cultural and community myths, family stories and more. Informally, on occasion, I’ve asked several of the artists if the design skills learned in rug making have influenced or been applied to other areas of their textile production. While no means exhaustive, they each replied “yes.” Some of the artists create beadwork to supplement their income; others weave huipils and traditional garments. Each artist said they are now able to articulate their design decisions and approach these decisions more intentionally. Multicolores provides on-going access to opportunities to their membership on two fronts: Social services and remedial artistic training. Of key importance, the organization buys all members’ production --provided the works adhere to established criteria. Knowing their work will be purchased by the organization allows the artists a measure of financial ease along with an ability to plan their lives. In addition to accessing social services mentioned briefly earlier in this article, and participating in classes to expand their artistry, the women enumerate other benefits: they grow confident. They begin to view themselves as capable of success in the market place. As their self-esteem rises, family members begin to perceive them differently, too. Respect grows. In Guatemala, women from small rural villages seldom have opportunities to travel to other regions of the country or indeed, their wider communities. They seldom grow friendships beyond their church or immediate community or language group. They seldom have an opportunity to meet or interact with foreigners. Yet through their association with Multicolores opportunities are made available; the artists gain confidence navigating transportation systems as they periodically commute to our workshops and office. Through their participation in workshops they come together with their fellow Multicolores artists from disparate regions and language groups. They come to know one another as Maya women who face similar challenges in different communities. They come to know one another as artists and makers of one-of-a-kind rugs. They grow mutual respect and draw inspiration from each other’s artistic accomplishments. Like women everywhere, who come together united in purpose, friendships are born. By participating in weeklong rug hooking tours, where North Americans travel to Guatemala to learn the craft from the Maya artists, they engage with foreigners through the common bond of rug hooking. They share photographs and stories about their respective families, they learn about the joys and sometimes the sorrows of one another’s lives as they explore rug hooking the Maya way. And finally, the women of Multicolores are offered opportunities to share their knowledge and mentor others. To learn more about our work in Guatemala, read Rug Money: How A Group Of Maya Women Changed Their Lives Through Art And Innovation published by Thrums Books, 2018. Visit Multicolores at www.multicolores.org.   Hooked rug, 5’x7’ rug by Irma Churunel depicting Nahuales or Maya glyphs; recycled clothing on cotton ground cloth. Photo Credit: Mary Anne, Wise   Hooked rug, 4’x 6’ rug by Yolanda Calgual Morales depicting traje of Chichicastenango surrounded by nature. Made with recycled clothing on cotton ground cloth. Photo Credit: Mary Anne, Wise

Teaching Traditional Artisans at Somaiya Kala Vidya,
Issue #006, Autumn, 2020                                                                       ISSN: 2581- 9410 INTRODUCTION                                           No one had ever come up with the concept of teaching design to artisans until 2005, when Judy Frater launched Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya. Hence, teaching artisans design was new for anyone who taught in the formative years. Furthermore, for each course we were presented with a curriculum and we had to create a syllabus.  Craft in the Indian context is passed on from one generation of artisans to the next. The making skills can be acquired in a conventional design school, but that would be incomplete knowledge. What about the cultural context? Hence, when teaching design to crafts people it came naturally for us to learn and draw from the local culture to make education meaningful. We customized classroom activities according to the group dynamics every year, emphasizing experiential learning. Both of us have taught various courses within the Design and Business and Management for Artisans (BMA) courses at Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya and Somaiya Kala Vidya. Here we reflect on our experiences of teaching traditional artisans.   Shwetha In 2008, when I was approached to teach the course Concept, Communication, Projects for artisans, I was intrigued but extremely nervous. Travelling from Bangalore to the middle of a desert itself was quite an adventure. Two flights and a long drive later, I found myself in a beautiful campus oasis. It was truly unlike any “college” I had been to. I was nervous because I did not know the language and was concerned about whether the students would be able to follow my broken Hindi. As I was settling down, a vehicle came up the dusty road. The students started pouring out, 12 men, most of them 5-10 years older than I was.  They were busy unloading their luggage, talking to one another and had not noticed me. Suddenly one student saw me and before he could stop himself said, “Arre yeh to bacchi hain!” (She is a child). Even as the other students tried to shush him, I found myself blurting out, “Haan chhoti hoon, lekin hum ek doosre se seekh sakte hain na? “(well yes I am younger than you, but maybe we can both learn from each other?) I told them frankly that coming from South India, I had only bookish knowledge about their crafts, so if they taught me about their craft, I could teach them about design. That set the tone for the rest of the class and has been the mindset with which I approach every class I have taught in SKV: a mutual need to learn and explore. The diversity of the crafts that we had to deal with in the men’s course (weaving, bandhani and Ajrakh) and the different age groups meant I had to think differently while planning the exercises. I had to start with familiarizing myself with the local culture, understanding each student's craft, customs and rituals. Conceptualizing and designing exercises that appealed to each craft and were adaptable was key. My first teaching assignment was quite an eye opener and I had to learn to let go of certain teaching methods that were deemed the “correct” way. For instance, in a conventional setting the students are required to work in the classroom /studio for a set number of hours, In SKV the students are allowed to go around campus and work on their assignments; they are not bound by the classroom and there is an understanding that faculty will be available for them at all times. I had to think of innovative, very often experimental ideas to get the point across. More importantly I learned to adapt and go with the flow. Jivaben presenting a product developed for a selected consumer to LOkesh 2009. credit : Judy Frater LOkesh I had conducted workshops for traditional artisans in which I had instructed them to make new motifs or products that I had designed. But my first experience of teaching design to artisans was when I was invited to Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya in 2007. Until then, I had never thought an artisan could design new ideas. The challenge I perceived was how to make a village artisan think of new designs for a wider audience.  I was taken aback with the rich presentation the students made on the first day of class. I felt a pressing need to understand who these women were. Where did they come from?  From the very first day, after class I started visiting the village to educate myself about their cultural background. Thereafter teaching became easier as I started using examples from what I saw in their village and homes to explain concepts of design. I formed a deep appreciation of their ethnic background; that was the starting point for my long teacher-student relationship. I felt I was learning from them as much as I was teaching.   CONNECTING WITH CULTURAL / GEOGRAPHIC CONTEXT Shwetha I agree that the most interesting and important factor has been to bring in the cultural context while teaching. Given that the students come from culturally rich backgrounds and craft is an integral part of their lives, I find it most effective to draw from experiences and examples to which the students can relate. This experience differs for each student, be it by craft, gender or geography. Men’s and women’s classes are separate at SKV. When I teach both men's and the women's courses, the drastic differences in their experiences and exposures is clear. I make a conscious effort to provide different examples and parallels while teaching different groups. For instance, when providing the women an example of the design process in which all components come together to create a final design/product, I give them a cooking example, of how different ingredients put together make the final dish. For the men, I try and relate it to the dyeing process or the setting up of a loom, which involve different steps, all of which need to be completed in order to get a final product. Drawing from what students know and understand makes it easy to convey the point.   LOkesh During the Concept, Communication, Projects course the students learn how to work on a theme, starting with a colour story. The theme becomes a direction for innovation within their textile tradition. A professional international colour forecast that is donated to Somaiya Kala Vidya is presented to the class. The presentation is in the format of visual boards creating  stories such as Going Back to Nature, Constructivism in Art, Drowning in Splendor etc. Each story is accompanied by a set of 6 to 7 colours. Students are encouraged to select the colour story they like most considering their craft context. Knowing the culture and language is an advantage for the teacher. However, the key is to creatively make connections between local culture and design concepts. When I present the colour forecast, I equate it to the local term varta, (story). We discuss how heritage and craft have a story. The characters in this story are motifs having meaning for maker and user; the raw materials relate to the region or a trade system; layouts and colours are specific to age groups, and so on. Colour is usually the first element to which a consumer is attracted. With an international colour forecast, seeds for new design collections are sown. How relevant an international colour forecast is to India is less relevant here. Important is that it offers a good starting point for learning. The colour forecast has proven a successful tool without fail over the years. During my class the mantra for interpreting this tool is ‘think globally and act locally.’ While we refer to international forecasts, the interpretation takes place in the artisan’s world. What I offer is a look at their familiar world with a fresh perspective. At each stage of the learning process, the students are offered options, rather than forcing one idea on them. This gives students ownership and encourages them to take independent, creative decisions. Eventually their field experience and explorations become the foundation for a new design concept which culminates in a collection. OVERCOMING LIMITATIONS OF THE SITUATION: THE CAMPUS/ STUDENT BACKGROUND Discussing with Lakhuben Rabari her presentation and display 2013.  credit : Judy Frater Shwetha The simple, small town campus of SKV, and the students’ limited experience present challenges. The Merchandising and Presentation course completes the students’ design education. In this final course students view and review their entire year's work. They learn how to effectively present themselves, display their products, and create brand identities and communication collaterals. The design course culminates in a jury made up of professionals from the textile and craft industry, wherein the students' work and final collections are displayed and critiqued. Lack of confidence and the language barrier make the students hesitate while presenting. The way I approach it is to start from understanding each student's journey. Identifying each student’s” Aha” moment is the first step. Once students manage to identify that moment, it becomes easier for them to view their journey and build a presentation from there. Students learn different display techniques.  The core focus is on using available materials and innovating to showcase their craft and culture effectively through their display. Getting students to explore their surroundings and find or make props using materials around them makes them think creatively and helps overcome the resource limitations. Suddenly an earthen pot lying in the corner becomes a display prop for a stole, branches are tied together and made into a stand for products. I have found that some of the most authentic and evocative displays come out of the material and spaces around us.   LOkesh In the Market Orientation course, students learn costing. During one costing exercise, I encountered a woman artisan who could barely write anything except her name and numbers. She knew how to count, but she could not write the calculations. I encouraged her to write calculations and draw her product so she remembered what the context was. I was surprised to see her spend time after class hours learning how to write multiplications. The class was a mix of older and younger students. The younger girls were fast with calculation would explain to the older woman and soon she could also manage.  In turn, the younger girls learned from the experience of the older craftswoman. Thus a mix of age in the same class, a unique feature not practiced in mainstream design institutes in India, becomes an advantage. To address the limitation of non-literacy, I made a template with symbols. I used symbols of thread/ yarn/ cloth for depicting raw materials, a symbol of a fan for overheads, a van denoting transportation cost, a sales tag for selling price, a bag of cash for profit and so on. The template had a place for drawing the product or placing a photo of the product with a code number. All the information depicted through symbols is also mentioned in Gujarati text. Therefore, in the future, whenever confused the artisan could re-confirm the information through a family member or friend who could read. We also taught costing new designs through cooking! The artisans were assigned to cost their textiles. Following this they cooked a meal, starting from purchasing the materials to preparing the food, serving and costing it. Usually artisans forget to account for the cooking gas and the value of their own time. The breakup of visible and non-visible elements of cooking is applied to learning to cost textile products.  PRACTICAL and EXPERIENTIAL LEARNING Reaching a consensus on the exhibition name and teams - BMA 2014 credit: Judy Frater   Discussing Brand USP by researching existing brands, BMA 2014. Credit : Judy Frater   Shwetha A key factor I keep in mind while designing exercises is to make them practical and fun. I feel students understand concepts better when an activity makes them think creatively and get involved. The culmination of the Business and Management for Artisans course (BMA) is an exhibition planned by the students, from choosing the venue, logistics, display, PR etc. They are split into groups and each group takes on responsibilities like logistics, stock taking, expenses...etc. Doing this exercise, not only are students involved in every aspect, they also understand the amount of work that goes into setting up an exhibition and value it more. They learn to take responsibility for their decisions. Students often need financial aid for the exhibition, usually for advertisements and PR. I give them the task of creating a pitch and negotiating with SKV for a Win-Win situation. This is always an eye opener: they never thought they could ask!  Juned Khatri studying ship-making for his theme 2016. credit : LOkesh Ghai   Somaiya Kala Vidya class of 2019 field trip to Khari Nadi. credit : LOkesh Ghai   LOkesh In Concept, Communication, Projects, the students learn how to draw inspiration from local culture or nature. Instead of borrowing reference images form a magazine or downloading from the internet, they experience their inspirations. The forecast theme of Constructivism in Art was localized and experienced by visiting local potters in Gundiyali village, followed by studying the art of ship-making by hand at Mandvi port. For the theme of Going Back to Nature, the class visited a wild life sanctuary followed by a visit to an ancient river bed. During these site visits the students drew, painted, took photographs, recorded sounds and collected natural elements such as leaves and pebbles. Thus they experienced the inspiration, and through the process generated visual imagery for reference, making the project original and personal.   PEER LEARNING AND INDIVIDUAL ATTENTION DURING CLASSES Tosif Khatri explaining his Logo concept to the jury members 2019 Credit :  Judy Frater   Shwetha Peer learning and providing individual attention are key concepts in SKV. We encourage alumni to participate as jury members and share their feedback with the students after each course. In the last course, Merchandising and Presentation, students’ families are invited for the presentation of the entire year's work and they are encouraged to participate in the Q & A sessions. The feedback and recognition from families, who are often artisans themselves, means a lot to the students.  To critically analyze one's own work and showcase the best pieces becomes important; in a limited space like an exhibition, what one chooses to display can make him stand out from the crowd. Faced with the dilemma of trying to fit an entire year's work into two panels, students are often unable to choose their best work or to recognize their strengths. An exercise that works is to encourage students to ask classmates to give them critical feedback and choose the pieces they like best. Often students are surprised with the selections, as they would not have viewed their own work in the same way. Similarly, designing a logo is a very personal endeavor, and students often get stuck or too attached to convey a particular idea or concept. An effective exercise is asking students to exchange their logo ideas with each other for a few hours. This works on two levels: students have to explain their concepts to their peers, which helps them articulate their thoughts. Second, students get a fresh perspective, and a different direction from which to work. It encourages them to learn from their peers and value each other’s feedback.   LOkesh teaching Ramesh Mesaniya 2019. Credit :  Judy Frater   Beginning the Concept, Communication, Projects course with LOkesh Ghai Credit :  Judy Frater   LOkesh At SKV the classroom has an environment that is both disciplined and friendly. A lot of class is about constructive dialogue, sometimes individually, sometimes in group discussions with peer learning.  Students are encouraged to voice any challenge they face. During the Concept, Communication, Projects course,  Poonambhai, a weaver, chose ‘air’ as his concept. I assigned him to depict air in his design. He protested that air cannot be depicted in weaving as it has no form. I asked him how one could feel air in weaving? After some discussion, he concluded that a missing yarn would be one way of showing air in weaving. While sketching theme ideas on paper, Poonambhai was frustrated by the restriction of his colour palette. Again, he learned to design with restriction. Through individual encouragement and attention, he learned to move out of his comfort zone. He expanded his markets and started using new colour combinations. Over the years after graduation he has enjoyed exploring new colour stories.   GAMES AND ROLE PLAY  Shwetha Teaching presentation skills and body language in the Merchandising and Presentation course becomes a bit difficult without offending anyone’s sensibilities. I have found role play exercises effective. This way, students experience and realize rather than being told what to do. To introduce the importance of display and presentation, I usually kick off the course with a role play exercise of students acting as shopkeepers. Each shopkeeper is given a list of their store's characteristics. For example, one store would have a good display of products and good knowledge but rude behavior/disinterest toward customers, etc. The rest of the class acts as customers and visits each “Shop.” At the end of this exercise we discuss how they felt. This often leads to a healthy discussion on behavior, knowledge, display...etc. In the Post Graduate BMA course, when I taught Sales and Marketing, one of the most fun exercises we did was split the students into groups and ask them to put up two food stalls; they were given a budget and a brief. One group had everything ready, but were so caught up that they forgot to inform us of their opening time.  Another group had ice cream and though they scored on having a higher margin product, it was a really hot day and they struggled to serve us. Through this exercise we managed to touch on aspects like customer research, budgeting, promotion, etc.   IMPROMPTU EXERCISES  While teaching artisans, one thing is clear: as faculty we need to be flexible in our plans and adapt. Sometimes the exercise planned might not catch the attention of the students or it might feel a bit too complicated. At those times we usually have to think on our feet and come up with immediate ideas and solutions to get the point across in an interesting way.   LOkesh During the Analyzing and Maximizing Business Performance course of the BMA, students make a detailed analysis of their sales at their exhibition.  On the first day of the women’s session, everyone was too afraid to make a mistake dealing with actual sales figures. This prompted me to make up a game that would break the ice with numeracy. I told a student to throw a die, multiply the number by one hundred and that equals your sales. If you got number six, it was considered as sales cancelled and the amount was reduced from the current sales figure. The student passed the die to the next player and whoever made a thousand sales first was the winner. The game brought back enthusiasm for numbers and we went back to the invoice bills for accounting.   Shwetha The first time I taught brand identity, the students had to translate concepts and ideas such as quality, good, and tradition into visual forms. I was struggling to explain how to simplify a concept in a drawing. After dinner the students were bored and wanted to play a game. I realised we could play Pictionary. Suddenly it went from a fun game to a teaching moment, where the students were trying to show concepts in simple line drawings. It has now become a favorite, a game in which students learn to depict and convey feelings, objects, and intentions visually.   CONCLUSION  As teachers our belief that artisans can learn design and implement this learning has only grown over the years. The artisan communities have experienced the benefit of education, thus encouraging the next generation of artisans to enroll and continue with their tradition of craft. We have been surprised by both men and women artisans' ability to find design solutions and rise to the challenge.  Over the years we have changed teaching methodology and the way we approach subjects to adapt to the ever changing market and technological advances. As faculty, we continue to learn about emerging trends and technology so we can adapt and evolve the syllabus for the students. Teaching artisans at SKV, experiential learning, connecting to local culture, and engaging in dialogue result in a successful class. The role of the faculty is not to impose his or her aesthetics but to nurture how the students visualize an idea.  In the Post Covid situation, the way consumers think and shop will change drastically. Most exhibitions that artisans would have attended are going online and becoming virtual exhibitions. With removing the sense of touch and feel that is so inherent to craft products, it becomes even more critical that products are presented well, communication is clear and the story telling is apparent. For the future we as teachers will also need to adapt and change the way we teach and what we teach accordingly.

Telling Tales, The Kaavad, The Miniature Portable Shrines of Rajasthan
The evidence of the antiquity of painted narrative traditions extendsfrom architectural remains and mural paintings to textual evidence that dates back to the 3rd Century BCE. Serving the needs of a broad swath of people by bringing access to religious stories and didactic teachings the creativity of the myth-teller was expressed not only through the orality of the storytelling but the painted imagery of the characters that peopled the story. From easily portable rolled-up scrolls and painted textiles to wooden devices the stories were transported from village to village to be unveiled to gatherings of people by the itinerant myth-tellers. In the age of cinema, television and digital media this tradition is now rarely to be seen though there are still some rural pockets of Rajasthan where miniature portable shrines - the Kaavad is an existent  tradition thatcontinues to be brought to the doorstep of devotees across the state. The Kaavad conjures up a temple withnarrative myths vividly illustrated, the detailed figures and scenes hand-painted.This wooden shrine with its ingeniously hinged multiple doors that are folded concertina-type is ceremoniously opened during the recitation by the itinerant storyteller-priest - the Kaavadiya-Bhat. A single Kaavad can be used to recite multiple stories, each finding place in the painted panels, doors and corners of the Kaavad from the depictionof episodes from the Hindu epics, stories of local hero-gods and saints, family genealogies to heroic deeds of clan ancestors. The viewing of the Kaavad simulates a visit to a shrine as the Kaavadiya-Bhat’s recitation called the Kaavad-Banchna leads the devotee through the spaces characteristic of a temple. Moving from panel to panel the Bhat draws his audience deeper by folding and un-folding doors to reach the innermost chamber of the sanctum sanctorumwhere the doors open to   eventually reveal the deity. Attending the recitation is considered to be part of the devotees’ sacred ritual duty, and to make gifts in cash or kind to the Kaavadiya-Bhat part of their obligation. The origin of the Kaavad dates back to the great Hindu epic the Ramayana when Raja Dashrath the father of Lord Rama, accidentally killed Shravan Kumar during his hunting expedition. Shravan Kumar who was taking his blind parents on a pilgrimage asked Raja Dashrath with his dying breathfor help in fulfilling his vow by bringing the temple to his parents. Thus the Kaavad the mobile temple shrine originated. The origin myth of the Kaavadiya Bhats extends back in time to the mythical Queen Kundanabai who possessed a Kaavad but did not have anyone to interpreting the story of the temple deity for her, so she called for a person and the tradition of singing and reciting the Kaavad started. Kumhara village in Bhopalgarh Tehsil in Jodhpur district is where the Kaavadiya Bhats live, with the almost 40 families who reside here having their roots as Bhats. The rectangular construction of the Kaavad outer-box is usually 12.5” in length, with a width of about 5‘’ as it is sized for the convenience of Bhats  who travel from village to village. Carried, with the respect and deference due to a holy object, the Bhat holds the Kaavad in front of his upper body, strung with a strong rope that is strapped around his neck and shoulder and supported by his hands at the base of the Kaavad. Following time honored traditions each Kaavad was specially customised to the requirements of the Kaavadiya-Bhat by five families of the Jangid-Suthar community of carpenters based in the village of Bassi in Chittor,Rajasthan,  Rajasthan  who constructed and painted the mobile shrine. Painted in bright and vivid colors of  red, blue, yellow, white and tonal-skin colors the figures are usually outlined in black. Of note is panel of the Kaavad that depicts the Kaavadiya Bhats patron. The Bhats instruct the Suthar to draw the image of their main patron or Jajmaan in a flattering manner – often seated in a heroically on a camel. While these once sacrosanct customs are on the decline and the Kaavadiya Bhats visit to his patrons becoming rarer the makers of the Kaavadhave expanded the scope of their craft. The wooden cabinet, usually made of mango wood, is now put to contemporary usage as new stories have been introduced the temple shrine has taken on the new role of storytelling device that also extends to its application as a teaching tool with alphabets and numbers on the panels,traffic rules to an effective device communicating public health messages in rural areas. A additionally as a decorative object for urban homes it is produced in many sizes from a further miniaturized 5” to huge ones for public display and special orders for museums and exhibitions. However like most things in India there are adaptations and changes as tradition takes on a new avator. In the rough and tumble of  heavy traffic a portable shrine was being transported by cycle  from place to place waiting to be unveiled for a crowd of devotees. [gallery ids="165355,165356,165357,165358,165359,165360,165361"]   First published in Sunday Herald.  

Temple Chariot Tradition in India, with special reference to Tamil Nadu's Temple Chariot
The "temple chariot" is a concept where deity is moved from temple to chariot, which becomes a temple for the time being, especially on the occasion of rathotsava or rathyatra. The rathotsava is a festival (utsava) of chariot (rath) being celebrated in the temples of South India, while in Orissa it is known as rathyatra. During these festivals, huge procession takes place, which involves hundreds and thousands of people, who dance, sing and pray in praise of the deity. In early days temples were the center of various cultural activities. Perhaps, phenomenal growth in the number of temples and associated rituals in the shrine and temple halls, fall short of place to accommodate the surge of devotees offering worship in the temples. This necessitates bringing the God outside the temple paving the way for the chariot festival. The definite date of starting temple chariot tradition is not very clear; however early literary references on this concept traces its origin from Epic period in the name of Samaja. A number of literary references, epigraphic records and sculptural evidences informs that it is an age-old tradition not only in India, but in Greece, Egypt and Mesopotamia etc. The most interesting fact is that when most of World Civilization has forgotten their tradition of chariots, in India it is alive in the form of Jagannath Puri's "car festival", and "temple chariot festival" of entire South India, Apart from Orissa and South India, Pondicherry, Vrindavan and other places also such tradition is practiced but on a smaller scale, comparatively to earlier ones'. Here an attempt has been made to trace the history of 'temple chariot' tradition, its prevailing examples with special reference to a Tamil Nadu's temple chariot in the collection of National Museum of New Delhi, which is approximately one hundred and fifty years old.  History of Temple Chariots  The tradition of chariots has a very significant place in Indian archaeology, literature and history. Finding of terracotta chariots from various sites of Indus Civilization (ca. 2700-2000 B.C) and bronze chariot from Daimabad (Maharastra), ca. 2000 B.C, indicate that people of Indus period were very well familiar with chariots (P1.1). Probably such chariots were used just as a mode of transport during the Harappan period, as it is not very clear that during this period the chariots had any religious significance or not.  The Vedas inform about the Rath or chariot in various contexts. In Vedas special mention has been made of dedicating hymns to each of the Vedic divinities with particular emphasis on the Raths. The Vedic poets designated that the gods were required to come to the sacrificial ground only in rathas and not on horseback. Chariot is also described as the Vedic Symbol of sacrifice by which the dead person ascends to the heavenly realm. Epic period gives the references of chariots used for wars, festivals and part of royalty's treasures. Puranic deity Tripuranthaka Siva stands on chariot, when He kills three puras; in heaven, sky and earth and other deities. Buddhist and Jain literature also provides a lot of information related to types of chariot, making of chariot, uses of chariot and its maker. The early literature informs that there were different type of chariots like: chariots used in war, for use of royal treasures and religious chariots. The focus of this paper is on the third type of chariot.  Rathotsava  The term Rathotsava is a combination of two words, ratha (chariot) and utsava (joyous celebration) that means the utsava is conducted by drawing the ratha (of God). During the rathotsava the temple deity was taken outside the temple premises and placed in the temple chariot and people took part in the festival by physically holding the giant rope of the chariot and drawing it through the main street in the procession along the main thoroughfare of the town. Several mantapas (canopies) were added on both sides of the road by chieftains and donors for the people to the stand at an elevated place and watch the festivities.  The Vedic literature refers that during religious festivals dramatic spectacles, chariot races and other activities were organized'. On festival days prayers were offered and sacrifices were made to please the deities. In the two epics, Ramayan and Mahabharat, and literature of later period, the word Samaja has been used for such festivals.  The Ayodhyakand of the Epic Ramayan mentions that at the time of Dashratha's death there were references to highlighting the role of the king in organising various festivals, which were done in honour of deities. The Epic Mahabharat also gives few references of the word Samaja. The Virataparva of Mahabharat mentions a grand festival of Brahma held at Matsya-Janapada. During such an occasion a large number of people from countryside assembled' and a reference of wrestlers taking part in the Samajas is also there.  Buddhist literature also refers to the word Samajas, which is a sort of festival. The Vinaya-Pitaka, one of the three Pitakas of Buddhist literature, informs that such Samajas were held on a hill at Rajagriha. Another text Dhammapada narrates that performances of actors, dancers and singers lasted for seven days. These actors similarly displayed their arts in villages, towns and capital cities on festive occasions.  From historical times the conceptualization of chariot, as a vehicle for gods has been frequently quoted in various Puranas, literature, epigraphs and inscriptions. The Bhavishya, Padma, and Bhagavata Puranas also provide various references of organizing such festivals, which support the statements of epics.  The earliest inscriptional reference, about the public exhibition of heavenly cars, comes from Emperor Ashoka's period. During the Mauryan period the tradition of festival was continued and it is mentioned that Ashoka, grandson of Chandragupta Maurya, was also fond of celebrating Samajas. The firework display, music and dancing and a big feast were the part of such Samaja, in which slaughter of several animals took place to serve the meat. Later on he stopped the slaughtering of animals, as mentioned in his Kalsi Rock Edict No-1 and in consequence of the practice of morality by the emperor, people were shown spectacles of aerial chariots, elephants and fireworks. The author of Arthasastra, Kautilya informs us the same thing about the Utsava, Samaja and Yatra. He mentions that during these days drinking of wine was restricted to four days. He further refers to conqueror's duty to respecting the conquered people's national devotion to their country, their religion and their institutions, their litsava, Samaja and Vihara.  An important inscriptional evidence on this subject is from the Hathigumpa inscription of Kharavela (c.2nd century B.C), the Cheta king of Kalinga. It records the events of ruler's glorious reign, also mentions that the king rejoiced the city by organizing gatherings and festivals, in which Jina image was carried in a public procession.  Similar events were arranged during the Satavahana reign (c. 1st century A.D) as recorded from the Nasik cave inscription of Vasishthiputra Pulumavi, that during the period of Gautamiputra Satakarni such festivals were organized.  During the golden age of the Guptas, which also marks the revival of Brahmanism, a number of religious festivals were held in honour of the Hindu deities. The Mandsor inscription refers to the Vaishnava festivals of Sayana ekadasi and the Karamadanda inscription of the year 436 mentions that an image of God Shiva was taken out in a procession called Devadroni.  The numerous references in Tamil„ Kannada and Telugu inscriptions indicate that Rathotsava, as a regular socio-religious festival, was practised in South India from the 7th century onwards. The magnificent temple chariots of mediaeval times owe their forms to the evolution and development of early temple architecture, which were executed in the form of shrines. Later on, the temple chariots were formed, their structure based on the evolved architectural modes of the temples. The monolithic structures Mahabalipuram, Draupadi Rath, Arjuna Rath, Bhima Rath, Dharma Raja Rath, which were executed by the Pallava architects in the 7th century A.D, are the living examples of early shrine models. It appears that probably chariot makers took these prototypes as his module and convention animated by adding the wheels and the pulling technique. Stone chariot at Vithal temple, Hampi, South India, is such a superb example of engineering that the hard granite stone wheels can even revolve. However the brick superstructure of the chariot no longer exists, but this perfect structure in granite probably served as the model for the rathakaras (chariot makers) of late Vijaynagar period. An inscription corresponding to the era of Krishnadevaraya, dated 1513 A.D. throw light on the car festival celebrated at the Vithala temple. Some of the living examples such as the Sarangopani temple in Kumbhakonam and the sun temple in Konarak are in the form of a chariot, and the architecture here attains the highest level of perfection, These temple chariots were built on the basis of prescribed temple architectural texts, which is vet another field of study. The tradition of celebration of temple chariots is more popular in Orissa and South India from seventh century onwards. The temple chariot is construed to symbolize the religious and social aspirations of a community. As a pivotal point for intense religious activities, most of the temples in South India set the tradition of having the Rathotsava for which such chariots were created'''. These Rathotsava were celebrated on different occasions; sometime to commemorate the founding of the temple or to pray for the merit of the king or to celebrate the birthday of a chieftain, birth of prince, his marriage or any other day of royal significance and sometimes on certain planetary conjunctions and events associated with astrological significance. Such festivals reflect the beliefs and ritual practices that form the Indian temple tradition, especially in South India.  The Jagannath 'Car Festival' or  ‘Rathyatra'  The oldest iconographical evidence of the Rathyatra in Puri collies from the 13th —14'h century in the form of its depiction on a temple frieze. Housed in Orissa State Museum, Bhubaneswar, is stone frieze depicts a sequence of three temple cars and each chariot is drawn by a large number of devotees. Apart from stone panels and epigraphic records, the impact of such yatra that it can be easily seen in the folk art of Bengal and Orissa. Women of this region have beautifully embroidered such festive a, activity in a kantha (embroidered coverlet). These kanthas are made by women from old cotton sarees (mostly white), in which first quilting is done (sometimes designs are made first; then quilling is done); then different types of designs are made with colourful threads These threads are also taken from the border. Generally lotus medallion pattern is in the center and kalka buties are made in the corners and the remaining space occupies patterns like animals, dancers, utensils, cosmetics etc. There are a number of such kanthas in various collections, which depict rathyatra of Jagannath Puri. The National Museum also has a kantha, which beautifully illustrates the rathyatra (P1.2).  The Jagannath 'Car Festival' or `Rathyatra' is just one episode in a long cycle of rituals that begins in the full moon phase of the Oriya month of Jeshto (June/July). During this festival, images of Lord Jagannath, Balarama, his brother and Subhadra, his sister, are placed in their chariots. Thousands of devotees drag these chariots with great respect and regard. After nine days' holiday, the sequence is performed in reverse and three deities return to the temple to resume their normal lives. Conventional wisdom has it that the procession commemorates Krishnas journey from Gokul to Mathura. Jaganatha Rathayatra is considered to be the most famous and ancient tradition of Rathyatra in India.  Lord Jagannath (Lord Vishnu) has been the presiding royal deity of several ruling dynasties of Orissa since the Gangas and commands a unique position in the religious and cultural life of the Oriya people. Jagannath was declared the Emperor of Orissa and the king became a servant to the Lord. The belief of surrendering of the king himself to the Lord Jagannath is transformed into a custom and the king and his descendants perform the rituals of sweeping and cleaning the three raths.  National Museum's Temple chariot from Tamil Nadu  In 1965, National Museum of New Delhi purchased a temple chariot through annual art purchase committee meeting held at Chennai, Tamil Nadu. Such purchase was done to preserve an important aspect of temple ritualistic tradition of South India, which is a part of a cultural heritage. This chariot has an inscription in old Tamil, which has been deciphered by two Tamil scholars. Inscription is important as it tells us about the deity, donor, trial run date and much information.  This five-tier temple chariot is dedicated to Pandanallur Sri Adikesavaperumal (Lord Vishnu), who resides in Pappakudi Ka, Kumbakonam, Tamil Nadu, South India. It was made in mid nineteenth century under the guidance of devotees named (‘Manikkam Pillai’, `Subbu Pillai’, Cattaya Pillai' and jambu Natha Pillai, Sthapatya (chariot maker) `Shri Pasupati Achari' and his son have crafted this magnificent chariot (P1.3).  The small plaques have been fixed on the side of the chariot, which illustrate various Shiva and Vaishnava themes i.e. Vishnu, Lakshmi-Narayan (Lord Vishnu with his consort), Rama (one of the incarnation of Lord Vishnu), Varaha (Boar incarnation of Lord Vishnu), Narsimha (lion and human incarnation of Lord Vishnu), Venugopal (Krishna with flute), Bakasura and Putana (killing of demons by Krishna), Kubera (God of wealth), Hanuman (god having monkey face), Shiva-Parvati, Ganesha (son of Lord Shiva) etc. On the basis of carving style of the divine images, their features, costumes, jewellery etc., it appears to be the work of Tamil Nadu wood carvers.  Conclusion  `Rathyatra of Orissa, crathotsava or temple car' is a living tradition in India. It has not only religious significance, but social, economical, artistic relevance and commercial importance also. The place, where such festivals are organized, has become the meeting point for community and people who discuss several aspects of their life. This could be related to their social matters, economic and commercial business and, of course, the artistic creation of rathakars (makers of ratha). These rathas are decorated with a lot of panels, which illustrate the Vaishnavite, Shaivite or Shakta iconography, and colourful fabric banners. These wooden panels are made with great devotion, regard and according to iconographic texts. Apart from wooden panels, fabric banners are also used for decorating the chariot. These colourful banners are made by hand by several male and female artists. In a way such festivals help the entire community to work together, develop respect and affection for each other, which is the most important aspect of any society to grow. End Notes: 
  1. Nandagopal, Choodamani and Iyengar Vatsala, Temple Chariots, Bangalore, 2002, 112. 
  2. Sharma, B.N. Festival of India, New Delhi, 1978, 4. 
  3. Sharma, Ibid, 59,73.
  4. Kennoyer, M., Harappan Civilization, Pakistan, 1978. 
  5. Nandagopal, lbid, 14-15. 
  6. Ramayan, Ayodhyakanda, LXVI1, 15.
  7. Mahabharat, Viratparva, 13,14.
  8. Mahabharat, Viratparva, 2,7. 
  9. Sharma, ibid, 8.
  10. Nandagopal, Ibid, 29.
  11. Brown. P., Indian Architecture, Vol. 1, Taraporewala, Bombay, 1956; p. 71. 
  12. Last century witnessed the Ganesha utsava of Maharastra, today which has become famous all over the country. 
  13. Das, J.P., Puri Paintings, New Delhi, 1982, 48.
  14. I am very grateful to Professor S.Narayan from Jain Visvavidyala of New Delhi and Dr. S. Vasthani, Archaeologist, Department of Archaeology, Government of Tamil Nadu, Chennai, for reading inscriptions on the wooden panels of the chariot. 
  15. These banners, torana (gateway decorations) spreads etc. are made of colourful felt or cotton cloth. These are made either through applique technique or embroidery done with needle. Such pieces arc a part of important decoration and are housed in several collections.

Terracotta, Continuity & Change
Clay is regarded as sacred, holding within it the power to create and destroy. It is a symbol of impermanence and change, of regeneration and renewal, created using the three elements: earth, fire and water. Traditionally, in India, clay objects are used and then broken, to be replaced constantly by newer objects.
There are said to be over one million potters in India, producing a profusion of clay objects - using traditional techniques, and shaping and decorating the objects according to the social, religious and utilitarian needs of the region(s) and consumer(s). In most regions, men create the clay objects and do the firing while the women are responsible for preparing the clay and for decorating the pots. The most notable exception to this is Manipur, in north-east India, where women potters outnumber the male potters.
Every region has its own folklore and beliefs centred around the use of earth to create objects. The essence, however, remains the same - a potter's livelihood and tools and techniques are gifts from the God and ancestors. It was - and still is - the potter who is the repository of the oral tradition surrounding the trade. The myths have been passed on from one generation to the next, through stories narrated by the elders of the family. Some myths have been lost, several songs and stories forgotten. However, here we endeavour to recount a small portion of what remains. Legend has it that in the beginning of time when the epic churning of the ocean took place and the gods procured amrit or the divine nectar, they needed a vessel to keep it. So Visvakarma, the celestial artisan, crafted a pot. Indian potters - throughout the length and breadth of the country - believe that they are the descendants of Visvakarma; potters in some regions still carry his name: Prajapati, the Lord of Creativity. The methods he practised, the techniques he used in utilising the wheel for coiling and adding clay, for beating and extending surfaces, for enhancing the form by decoration and for purifying it with fire have been passed down from generation to generation. Potters, in deference to their tradition, light a small oil lamp as a mark of respect to their creator before they start work every morning; till today, they lay down, and clean and worship their tools on Visvakarma puja.
Another legend states that Lord Shiva, while getting ready for his marriage with Parvati, found that he had no kumbha (water pot), a necessity for the marriage ritual. So he fashioned a man from a bead and asked him to make a pot. The potter agreed to do so on the condition that Shiva gave him the circular stone on which he sat to serve as a wheel, the trident to keep the wheel moving, and a string from Shiva's sacred thread to remove the pot from the wheel. Using these tools, the kumbha was created and its maker became known as the kumbhar (potter). It is believed that a potter's equipment is symbolic of the cosmic forces of creation. The wheel represents Vishnu's chakra (the wheel of the Eternal Law of Life) and symbolises the cycle of birth and death, rest and regeneration. The rod for turning the wheel is Indra's vajra (the thunderbolt), the flat cone of clay is symbolic of Shiva's linga (the phallic form) and the water container is Brahma's kumbha (water pot), a symbol of the mendicant ascetic.
Jaya Jaitley in her book, The Craft Traditions of India, writes about the origin of the word kumbhar. 'When elephants by the riverside poured muddy water onto their foreheads, the clay dried in the hollow part, leaving a cup shaped object which man used as a storage vessel. The head of the elephant is called kumbha, so the subsequent maker of such clay vessels came to be known as the kumbhar.' The kumbha or common water pot represents fertility and prosperity. A water pot filled with water has, from time immemorial, been a symbol of good omen and is indispensable in any ritual. In a ceremony, for purposes of worship, if no image of a deity is available, a water pitcher suffices: it is, therefore, called mangalghat, the sacred vessel. A pot filled with holy water and crowned with leaves symbolises the sacred cosmos and is used outside homes and temples to welcome visitors. Common clay is used for making clay objects. The colour and plasticity of the clay vary from region to region and the pottery of a region has often evolved in response to the local materials. Clay is usually tempered with substances to create an even texture and counteract excessive shrinking, warping or cracking during drying and firing. Often, animal dung is added to the clay when making idols, tiles or bricks, but never when making utensils.
The low heat produced in traditional Indian kilns results in a porous and brittle product - terracotta. Although this porosity is ideal for cooking and storing food, the vessel becomes contaminated through constant use. Indian terracotta vessels are, therefore, broken and replaced at regular intervals. Votive earthenware is much more varied and much more local. Each village practically has its own form of the gram devata or village deity, who protects the village and the villagers from disease, aggression and famine, and brings to them good luck and good fortune. Votive offerings are made in a variety of forms and on various occasions: sometimes in fulfilment of a vow; sometimes in gratitude to the Gods for warding off some disease or misfortune. On festivals, fresh votive idols are made and worshipped, as the old ones are believed to have lost their propitiatory qualities. The old idols are left in some quiet spot to crumble, and fuse back into Mother Earth again, or else are often immersed in water. Utilitarian pottery comes in bewildering profusion. A variety of earthen objects are made: lamps, dolls and toys, earthen drums, flower vases, pots, musical instruments. The commonest clay object is the kulhar, which is used for holding water, tea, dahi, or practically anything.

Terracotta Ayyanaar Figures of Tamil Nadu,
Traditionally all the villages in Tamil Nadu had clay figures of the village diety Ayyanaar accompanied by his army who guarded their entrance; the belief system was and is till today that these figures guard the villages from evil. There is a temple built for the deities and this temple traditionally located at the entrance to the village, usually in a thicket of trees with a lake or pond nearby. The diety Ayyanaar is known by different names across the villages of Tamil Nadu as he is a folk deity and each village has differing stories and legends of the miracles wrought by him. The sight of these silent sentinels standing guard in a vast group is awe inspiring. All the figures are made of clay which is specially treated and well mixed to give it a malleable working consistency. The figures are painted in bright colours with each colour conveying a meaning. The figures are made large in size, almost lifesize and each year one or two new figures are added to the army as the old figures lose shape and strength over time. The artisans who mould the Ayyanaar figures make other clay products too, depending on utility, demand and season. Districts like Salem and Thanjavur in Tamil Nadu and parts of Pondicherry are well known for these figures. The fascinating aspect is how these age-old beliefs have stood the test of time and are still strongly and widely prevalent in the region.
Tradition and History The tradition of Ayyanaar figures as guardians in the village has existed for generations in Tamil Nadu. He is believed to have been created by Lord Shiva and Lord Ayyappan to fight against evil and ensure the good health and wealth of the villages. He is believed to protect the villages from drought and disease from enemies and intruders and from restless departed spirits. Rengaswamy, an Ayyanaar artisan from Mazhaiyur village near Pudukottai in Tamil Nadu says the craft has been in his family for a few hundred years at least and from whatever he has gleaned from the elders in his family, the craft has been passed on without a break in his family for generations.
Ayyanaar has always been regarded as a good and benevolent protector; the rituals associated with him are all Brahminical in nature with no animal sacrifices. However certain members of his army do have animal sacrifices associated with their consecration. Rengaswamy took the trouble to explain the entire structure of a typical Ayyanaar temple in a village. The main deity is that of Ayyanaar which is a small diminutive figure always presented in a seated position with his two consorts, Pushpakala and Purnakala on either side of him. These deities occupy the main place in the temple. The main warriors are found on either side of the seated Ayyanaar diety, to his left are Veerabhadrar figures, both large and small in size their with long curling moustaches, fierce wide open eyes and large teeth, all the characteristics that inspire fear; to Ayyanaar's right are the figures of two munis or sages, one of whom is Semmuni who is the special guardian deity for Rengaswamy and his family. There is often a figure of a girl that stands on the side of Semmuni and according to Rengaswamy such figures are made by families that pray for the marriage of their daughters at Ayyanaar's temple. Once the marriage wish is fulfilled, figures of the girl are presented in gratitude at the temple.
The composition of Ayyanaar's temple varies from village to village but some basic features remain the same. The Ayyanaar deity with his consorts, the two Veerabhadrar figures on his left and the figures of the two munis on his right are some features that remain the same in all the temples. Along with these, there are some other features that are constantly found in all the Ayyanaar temples too. They are - two fierce looking figures of Sangili (chain) Karuppar and Karuppar. These two figures are found with the figures of two dogs by their side and they are always found facing the Ayyanaar. The other feature of an Ayyanaar temple is the group of seven Saptakannis or female deities which are found in all the temples. The other figures found in the temple are the horses which are made in varying sizes from huge towering ones to small ones; horses are the mount of Veerabhadrar. Elephants are also found in these temples as it is believed to be the mount of Ayyanaar. Figures of bulls are also found in the temple. The number of figures in a temple vary from village to village and figures are added on every year. When babies are born, thankful parents put in figures of babies in cradles at the temples. At Alangudi, which is about fifteen kilometers from Mazhaiyur village, there are Ayyanaar figures dating back to a thousand years. The women of the village perform a fifteen-day festival at the Ayyanaar temple every year. A tall pot like structure is made and in it is placed some manure along with a coconut seedling; in another pot also filled with manure, some grains are placed. These are watered by the women after their ritual bath everyday for fifteen days. Then it is taken around the village after which pooja is performed at the Ayyanaar temple. This is followed by a goat sacrifice for some specific deities in the Ayyanaar temple but not for Ayyanaar himself. All this is accompanied by feasting and celebrations in the village.
There are many stories associated with the Ayyanaar temple with each village having its own legends of how the temple was made, how the place for the temple was selected and the how the special name given to the Ayyanaar deity of that village was chosen. There is a special story about how the Ayyanaar temple at Mazhaiyur village was made; this was narrated to us by Rengaswamy. Long time back, there was a man who suffered from leprosy. He tried curing himself by taking dips in all the holy rivers of India; he was not cured and on his pilgrimage he came to the south of India to a small stream running through Mazhaiyur village. When he took a dip in this stream, he was fully cured. He found peace of mind in this area and decided to build a temple. The spot selected was in the jungle near Lord Shiva's temple, where he decided to make the Ayyanaar temple and that is how, the story goes, the temple came about. The stream was also named a holy stream by him, giving eternal bliss. The folk deity, Ayyanaar, was named "Ennakathan" or the "one who protects me" and is known by the same name to this date. The making of a terracotta Ayyanaar figure is an important occasion and special practices and rituals are performed right from the time it is first ordered. The figure to be made may be a new one or one made for a festival or it could also be the renewal of an existing figure. A handful of mud used to make the earlier image is added to the mud for the new image, in the last two cases. The order is itself placed on an auspicious day and the eyes and other features or character of the figure is also sculpted only on an auspicious day. The figure is brought to the village on the shoulders of the senior male members and accompanied by celebration, fanfare and sacrifices. The potter himself acts as the priest because his touch of the eyes confers "life" on the idol. The oldest Ayyanaars and horses are found mainly in the Salem district of Tamil Nadu. Salem and Pudukottai districts are the main centers where large-size terracotta horses are found whereas smaller figures - human, divine or animal- are found all over the state.
Practitioners and Location The community engaged in clay work in Tamil Nadu is called kuyavar, kulaalar or velalar; they are also called kumbhkars. This is the community that makes the Ayyanaar figures. According to legend this community was born as the result of the union between a Brahmin man and a Shudra woman. This community also traces its origin to Vishwakarma, the divine artisan. This community enjoys a status high on the social ladder and wears the sacred thread. These potters are also priests in those temples where there are animal sacrifices which is not attended by the Brahmin priests. In Tamil Nadu the artisans who make Ayyanaar and other clay figures are found in Salem, Pudukkottai, Thanjavur, Tiruchirapalli, Madurai and Coimbatore districts. Special mention can be made of some villages which are particularly known for Ayyanaar figures and where most of the families are involved in this craft. They are Mazhaiyur (Pudukkottai district), Chettampatti and Nallur (Tiruchirapalli district), Tirripuyanam (Madurai district) and Vadugapalayam (Coimbatore district). The village of Mazhaiyur lies near the town of Pudukottai in the Pudukottai district of Tamil Nadu, which is about fifty kilometres from Thanjavur. There are about fifty families involved in the craft in the village. The main advantage here is that the desired quality of clay is found near the village. The people of this village do not have too much of education. Rengaswamy who belongs to this village has travelled to America, Europe and Australia for long periods of craft demonstrations.
Process and Techniques and Materials Used The materials used to make Ayyanaar figure is locally available clay. The artisans are very particular about this. The belief is that no other clay is pliable enough for their work. Rengaswamy who has traveled to many countries in Europe, America, Southeast Asia to demonstrate his craft has always carried the mud from his village for his work. One of his longest trips was a craft-demonstration event in Australia for which he took sacks and sacks of mud with him. Wherever he travels for a demonstration he carries his own sacks of mud with him. He says the Ayyanaar figures made out of the other mud crack easily. So the artisans are very firm on this and will never compromise their craft. The mud collected from the villages is mixed with rice and millet husk and homogenised very thoroughly. The mixture is then soaked in water for a few days. The entire composition of this clay was explained in great detail by Rengaswamy. Once the clay is well homogenized, soft and pliable the work on the figures is commenced.
The potter is not alone in making the figures; his wife and children assist him in any way they can. The clay is made soft and pliable before any work is begun. The height and size of each figure determines the time spent on it and the technique used. The larger the figure, the more the number of parts made separately and then joined together. If the figure is a large horse, then the four legs are first rolled out with a piece of wood and shaped. The head and the ears are made separately. The body with all its incised design-detailing is made separately. There are trimmings such as bells, mirrors, grotesque faces (Kirthimukha), makaras (crocodiles) which are made and joined separately. The bells are made to warn the wrong-doers about Ayyanaar's arrival and the Kirthimukhas and makaras are supposed to frighten them too. The Ayyanaar's figure is given its features only on auspicious days. All the parts except the head are then joined together and everything is dried in the shade for five to six days.
After the drying is complete, the figures are fired in a kiln made up of straw and verati or dried cow-dung; the kiln is then covered with mud and surrounded by unfired pots. The time of firing the clay figures and pots depends on the level of chill and moisture in the air, states Rengaswamy. The firing for very large figures is done separately in parts and the parts are joined together and fired again. It is very important that the figures are taken out of the kiln at the right stage, states Rengaswamy as the colour has to be just right. The red colour so typical of the unpainted figures of Ayyanaar and his army is achieved only through the firing process. There is no use of red paint on the figures to improve on the colour obtained from the kiln. When the figures are donated as votive deities to the temples or when they are made as additions to the Ayyanaar army in the temple, they are painted in various bright colours. When the faces are painted red, it denotes anger; when the neck is painted blue that denotes calm. Vivid colours are painted on other parts of the body and the decorations.
Rengaswamy says this is the main reason why work slows down in the rainy season - drying is hindered and the firing is affected too. The rainy season which comes in November-December in these parts is used to make the auspicious Pongal pots on the wheel. This activity has to be done as there is a huge demand for Pongal pots and Pongal chulhas in January. All the households destroy the old pots and buy new pots in pairs. They are called Ram-Lakshman and as many pairs as desired are bought. Therefore to fulfill this seasonal demand, work on Ayyanaar figures stops so the artisan can make the pots. Rengaswamy says they dry the pots and chulhas indoors and slot the firing for days when there are light rains. One other product made during this time is the grain container, in preparation for the harvest-season. The grains harvested and stored are rice, millet and maize. The containers are made in various sizes. One container can hold upto half a sack to three sacks of grain; the container of the next size can hold upto ten sacks of grain. These containers are stored one on top of the other, according to size.
Changes in Tradition In the past, all the terracotta figures were made separately and fired. There has, however, been an increase in the demand for these terracotta figures in recent times and nowadays moulds are being developed and used on a large-scale basis. Due to the tedious processes being involved to make Ayyanaar figures in clay, stucco is now being used for the same craft. The stucco art has all the embellishments and features of terracotta, but the mobility and versatility of terracotta is absent. The grace and beauty of terracotta cannot be reproduced on stucco, and the figures look stiff and lifeless.
Design, Products, and Pricing The clay figures made are Ayyanaar and his army of Veerans or commanders and the animals - horses, bulls and elephants. The figure of Ayyanaar is depicted in the same fashion in all the temples of Tamil Nadu - small in size with his two consorts, Pushpakala and Purnakala on either side. The Veerans, mainly Veerabhadrar, are depicted with fierce wide open eyes, large moustache and big teeth. The earlier figures of the Veerans were very simple in appearance, but the later figures had larger eyeballs and more ferocious eyebrows. Over time, the shape of the eyebrows became straighter and there was also an increase in the number of straight and angular lines. The moustache also slowly increased in size and colours began to be used on the figures to be installed in the temples or as part of Ayyanaar's army. The figures of horses are said to be the largest terracotta sculptures ever to be built in the history of mankind. The horses range in height from half a metre to over six metres. The horses are also made in small sizes which are used as votive offerings to the Ayyanaar temples. The other figures made are those of soldiers, bulls and elephants - elephants are very popular amongst fishermen.
The pricing of these figures depends on their size and the intricacy of carving and embellishment on the figures. The large Veerabhadrar figures and horses are sold in the range of Rs.3000-Rs.6000 or more. Smaller figures are made in the range of a few hundred rupees or even for less than hundred rupees. Markets: Traditional and Contemporary The traditional markets for the Ayyanaar figures are within the village. According to Rengaswamy some figures for the temple are commissioned by the wealthy landlords of the village and this is one basic source of income. Smaller votive figures for the temples are ordered by the people of the same village; these are some of the traditional markets for the artisans. An additional key source of income is during the monsoons, towards the end of the year when all these artisan get involved in making Pongal pots and chulhas whose demand is huge at this point in time. Since Pongal or the harvest festival in Tamil Nadu is in mid-January and is celebrated over many days. There are some contemporary markets for Ayyanaar figures in the urban centres where the figures are sold through exhibitions and expositions. There are also craft-demonstrations in big cities like Delhi, Hyderabad, Ahmedabad and Bhopal. When people come to see the demonstrations, they place orders and the artisans are able to earn money through this source. Rengaswamy says that there are many artisans from his village and other villages too who visit craftshops in big cities like Chennai. They make clay figures and sell it there itself and return to the village after such income-generating ventures.

Terracotta Figured Roof Tiles of Odisha,
Clay roof tiles - part of a pitched (sloped) roof system, with burnt clay tiles laid on (usually) a timber under-structure - are a quintessential feature in several parts of the Indian countryside. Clay roof tiles are appropriate for most parts of the country, except where strong winds and cyclones, and/or snow, are frequent. Good quality tiles, appropriately overlapped, are waterproof in ordinary climatic situations. The use of clay tile roofs in country areas where pottery skills exist and where timber (or alternative under-structure) costs are low satisfy several of the criteria for 'appropriate' building systems, as they utilise local materials and skills, promote self-reliance, and are both cost effective and energy efficient.
Techniques and Products Clay tile production is an age-old cottage industry in several areas, specially rural zones, with potters making these tiles as part of their tradition repertoire of products: pots, storage and cooking vessels, images of deities, lamps, figurines, bird and animal shapes, and toys. Lokenath Rana and his son Ananta Rana belong to a traditional family of potters in Sonepur in Odisha and live in a mohalla (locality) of potters. What catches the eye from among the several interesting pieces that they display is a clay roof tile with a clay monkey sitting on it. This unusual embellishment on an essentially utilitarian item naturally leads to surprise; Ananta Rana, however explains that this tradition originated in the need to scare away wild animals. Odisha is one of the most heavily forested states in India, and those living in rural dwelling fringed by forests constantly fear wild animals that stray in from the jungle. These roof tiles with a figure on each - birds, squirrels, monkeys and mice being the most common - act somewhat in the nature of scarecrows. Naturally, only the uppermost layer of tiles on the roof has figures on it; sometimes the figures can be over a foot high. The animal figures are carefully detailed - somewhat surprisingly so considering where they are finally placed. However, as Lokenath Rana states, it is always interesting to create these tiles and as enjoyable to detail them. There is nothing inanimate about these figures: all the animals have expressions on their faces, and their body(ies) are depicted as fluid and mobile. The clay tiles are made from clay procured from the banks of the Mahanadi river, a lovely mix of red and black. The variation in the colour range - from an earthy terracotta to a brown-black - is determined by the proportion of red clay and black clay in the mixture. Cooking vessels are often brown-black, while tiles and figurines are more red in colour.
The clay tiles are made from clay procured from the banks of the Mahanadi river, a lovely mix of red and black. The variation in the colour range - from an earthy terracotta to a brown-black - is determined by the proportion of red clay and black clay in the mixture. Cooking vessels are often brown-black, while tiles and figurines are more red in colour.
The 'country' roof clay tiles made by the Sonepur potters are long half cylinders in shape, and not flat like those made in several parts of the country. A hollow cylinder-shaped piece is created on the wheel; this cylindrical piece is then cut into half with a thread, creating two long semi-circular cylindrical tiles. The tiles are then dried and fired. The standard firing time is 12 hours or so. The animal figures are comprised of different parts created separately on the wheel and put together. The detailing is done by hand. Often wood chips are used to create particular designs on the basic shapes. Lokenath Rana, superbly dextrous, endows basic round clay pieces with eyes, a nose, whiskers, a tail, paws... and in a trice and a monkey, or a squirrel topped tile is ready. The process and techniques are not unique in themselves; however, the sheer skill and dexterity with which Lokenath Rana's nimble fingers transform lumps of clay into all sorts of things - ranging from utilitarian items like tiles and cooking vessels to miniature elephants (less than 3 cm in height) and bird baths - is fascinating.
Among the other items of special interest made by the Sonepur potters is a particular stylisation of the Hindu monkey-god, Hanuman. This particular stylisation - in which the face of Hanuman, with his tail shown as curved up over his head (almost like a unicorn's horn), is imposed on a four-legged horse-like shape - is peculiar to Sonepur. The entire figure is placed on a base with wheels, thus allowing it to be dragged with ease. Markets Ananta Rana states that that maximum sale occurs during the Puramavas festival at the time of the bhado amavasya. This festival is an important occasion in the lives of the potters in and around Sonepur, for almost all the wares they bring to the market at this time gets sold. The Hanuman figures are created specially for this festival and are sold in large numbers, along with utilitarian items like cooking and storage vessels, clay toys, and decorative pieces.
The market for clay roof tiles is expanding to urban areas, as people in towns and cities are re-discovering ecologically friendly, low-cost and aesthetic building materials and styles, often age-old ones imported from the rural countryside. However, this kind of demand is being met by organised mechanised production, rather than the cottage industry tradition which Lokenath Rana and his son are part of. Also, problems of cracking and breakage are being dealt with, in mechanised production, by using an using admixture of ammonium chloride. There is thus a lot of still untapped potential for the traditional clay tile industry, like the one at Sonepur, to re-invent itself as organised providers of an increasingly popular roofing material.

Textile exhibition ‘Vayan’ in New Delhi delves into the history and art of Indian brocades,
The 17th-century English explorer Edward Terry wrote of his visit to India: “The natives there show very much ingenuity in their curious manufactures, as in their silk stuff, which they most artificially weave, some very neatly mingled either with silver or gold or both…”…” It is these glowing, glistening, lustrous "silk stuffs" that are the subject of a dazzling exhibition at the National Crafts Museum & Hastkala Academy in New Delhi, this month. Vayan – The Art of Indian Brocades is the second in a series of small but significant textile exhibitions, curated by Mayank Mansingh Kaul for the Devi Foundation, in collaboration with the National Crafts Museum. Representing a period broadly from the 19th century to the present, the exhibits are drawn from both their collections. Watch | Textile exhibition 'Vayan' in New Delhi Entering the exhibition, your eyes adjust to a dark black void from which gradually emerge luminous patches of radiant colour. Each of the six sections highlights different weaving styles from all over the country linked by common visual, aesthetic and technical attributes—Banaras, of course, and Kanjeevaram, but also textiles from Gujarat, Maharashtra, and Central India. Many of the pieces are saris or odhnis with ornate decorative pallavs and strong, deep colors — red, magenta, orange — and broad, patterned gold-edged borders. Stylized paisleys, both as end pieces and as ornamental konia corners, are a recurring feature, as are trailing floral arabesques and stylized roses and poppies. Included are brocades using complex hand-weaving techniques, such as luxurious samites, lampas and velvets, as well as lighter chanderis and tissues, and the now extinct gethwa technique of Varanasi. Ingeniously designed by Reha Sodhi, one of the delights of this exhibition is that, despite the relatively small space, each exhibit can be seen in isolation, and therefore has its own dramatic impact. I was delighted to see a celebration of my favourite, but lesser known, Paithani and Asavalli saris: their dull golds, tawny pinks, mulberrys and olive greens so subtle both in color and patterning. The exhibition features a few striking contemporary pieces with more abstract, bolder designs, such as a pop art-inspired gyaser , showing the range and versatility of the medium. [caption id="attachment_197985" align="aligncenter" width="640"] Exhibition view of Vayan - The Art of Indian Brocades | Photo Credit: Devi Art Foundation[/caption]  

Enjoy the 'little dream'

The name 'Vayan' is from Hindi, referring to the art of weaving. Known in India from ancient times, brocade was called hiranya or cloth of gold in Vedic literature, while in Gupta times it was known as puspapata , or cloth with woven flowers. Kimkhab is another word, derived from the Persian, still often used for Indian brocade. It has a poetic dual meaning—"a little dream" and "woven flower"—both evocative of its intricate, dreamlike, often floral, patterns. [caption id="attachment_197986" align="aligncenter" width="1200"] Silk and zari yardage designed by Manish Arora, and woven by Hashim Mohammad in Varanasi (2007) | Photo Credit: Devi Art Foundation[/caption]   These extraordinary Indian brocades, woven with silk and gold or silver thread, are characterized by their raised floral or figured motifs and designs, introduced during weaving through the extra warp process. This was traditionally done by a nimble fingered young boy, until Joseph Marie Jacquard's loom and punchcards replaced him in the early 19th century. In India though, the older methods continued alongside much longer. Textile techniques came to us from all over the world, to be transformed by India's eclectic magic into our own distinctive indigenous traditions. Silk originally came to India from China; Chinese rulers forbade the export of silkworms, but they were smuggled in (so the story goes) by Chinese Buddhist monks in the hollow shafts of their canes. India is now the world's second largest silk producer, though China still leads the way. [caption id="attachment_197987" align="aligncenter" width="1200"] A silk and zari blouse from the 19th century, with a complementary plain weave. Photo Credit: Devi Art Foundation[/caption]   There are 21st century echoes of this ancient rivalry. Currently, guardians of India's craft traditions are up in arms at the Chinese usurping many of our traditional skills. There was an outcry at South Indian silk weavers being taken to China to teach Chinese weavers how to weave Kanjeevaram saris, and India is flooded with shiny, inferior but cheaper Chinese silk yarn while we neglect our own mulberry silk cultivation.  

Drama beyond the weaves

Each piece in Vayan demonstrates the different facets of brocade. It can be crisp and metallicly shiny, or soft and flowing with a soft luminous sheen, extraordinarily sensuous. The encyclopedic explanation for the attributes of silk — "The shimmering appearance for which it is prized comes from the fibre's triangular prism-like structure, which allows silk cloth to refract incoming light at different angles" — doesn't at all convey its allure. At the exhibition, a glass case with a bolt of brocade tissue scrunched into soft, iridescent folds, beautifully illustrates that magic, just as a three-dimensional installation (by artist Astha Butail in collaboration with Raw Mango) at the midway point of the exhibition illustrates its drama. [caption id="attachment_197988" align="aligncenter" width="1200"] 7 Yokings of the Felicity installation — artist Astha Butail in collaboration with Raw Mango | Photo Credit: Anuj Arora[/caption]   The skills that weave these textiles are very much alive; nor are the exhibits rare archival items. As I walked around, murmured voices mentioned a similar piece in a wedding trousseau, or inherited from a grandmother. So, just as brocaded silks delicately flow and shimmer and yet have a tensile strength, Vayan, too, is not just a decorative window to a lost cultural and aesthetic past; it is a doorway that could open to exciting new design futures in both fashion and craft.

Textile Futures a Past Continuous,

The extraordinary skill of the Indian textile craftsperson’s and weavers is visible not only in museums and collections all over the world but in everyday life and practice in India. Whether it be an elegant indigo and white woven handloom length, a complex, mathematically precise double tie-dye Patola ikat, a brocaded tapestry destined for couture houses in Europe , a floral woven sari of gold, an embroidered rumal used to wrap a gift for a visiting head of State, a hand printed textile created with multiple inter-connected wooden blocks to be sold in the high streets of Europe or a painted textile temple hanging revered and worshiped, they represent but a small fraction of the vast repertoire of Indian craftsmanship of creating and embellishing textiles through spinning, dyeing, weaving, tying, embroidering, painting, embellishing and block-printing.

Using material as varied as wild silk to cotton, hemp, jute, banana fibre, wool, pashm and tree bark the textile tradition represents everything that it great about Indian craftsmanship- originality, versatility, design and technical virtuosity and adaptability to contemporary modes. A lineage stretching back over five millennia, excavations at ancient sites of the Indus Valley have unearthed needles, spinning implements and a fragment of madder dyed cotton, revealing evidence of an already highly developed textile tradition.  Further evidence through literary references, paintings, sculpture, all reveal a vibrant and evolving textile culture. While Vedic sources of the Samhitas, Brahmanas, the great epics of the Ramayan and Mahabharat, the Buddhist Jataka legends reveal details on dress and clothing and their making. Further on in time the murals painted in the Ajanta caves, dated to the 5th century A.D., depict a culture evolved in every aspect including textile.

These legendary textiles were exported to the known world, both East and West as is revealed from the accounts of travellers from Megasthenese,  the Greek Ambassador at the Mauryan court to Pliny writing in Egypt. While from the latter half of the first century A.D. we have an unknown Greek traders log book the Peripilus of Erythrrea listing textile exports from India and their ports of exit. Better documented are of course the developments as recorded in the Mughal period, when luxurious and extravagant textiles for the courts of the great Moguls received an enormous boost. Followed by the Dutch, the British East India Company and French and Portuguese interest and trade in Indian textiles.

This technology, the skill and the equipment is present today sustained, kept alive and vibrant by the guru-shishya parampara tradition of the passing of inter-generational knowledge transmitted from one generation to the next, orally and through daily diligent practice. The art of textiles – the weaving and embellishment  continues to be practised across the whole of India, distinguished by its directory of motifs, its vocabulary of form, the  immense regional differences, based on customs and practices of textile usage that continue to be influenced by geographic factors and predisposed by historic influences and cultural and ritual underpinning.

The unstitched garments of India – an unbroken lineage of the saris, dhotis, dupattas, angochas, turbans representing directories of design colours and technique. Textile skills across India are deeply embedded linked as they are to their community and cultural rootings that have been nurtured and kept alive by Indias highly skilled craftspeople who constitute a living repository of this historic legacy. Textile usage continues to be alive and vibrant, distinguished by distinct textile traditions each with its own unique history and regional influences, playing critical roles in local ceremonial and ritual life, signifying rank and community belonging, and on occasion, also representing the transmission of influences from other cultures.

With the largest extant number of handlooms in the World that is supported by a technically skilled pool of craftsperson’s and weavers India continues its fabled textile journey. Creating complex lengths of fabric on indigenously designed and maintained looms from the ergonomic back-strap, loin loom used by women across the North-Eastern States to weave once all daily chores are completed to the complex Gathua looms used in Varanasi. From tribal belt of Korapur in Orissa where heavy cotton woven with auspicious motifs in colours obtained from the roots of the al tree is woven to the light as air muslins of Bengal. The gold and silver brocades of Banaras, a must have in every North Indian wedding, to the brocaded jewel like colours of the Paithani of Maharashtra enamelled in luminescent colours. The pristine white cotton bordered with elegant gold Kasava of Kerela unique among textiles to the indigenous raw tussar silk weavers of Bhagalpur in Bihar; the much desired tapestry woven shawls of Kashmir spun out of the finest of Pashmina to the Gyasar brocades, ritually woven within the iconographic and iconometric rules laid down in the Buddhist scriptures by weavers in Banaras for Buddhist monasteries in Tibet, Ladakh, Sikkim, Bhutan and other places around the globe.Kanchipuram the place for silk temple saris with contrasting borders, the thick Chettinad cotton saris with earthy colours, Mysore silks and Balrampuram saris. No travel in India can be complete without a vist to a textile centre to watch in the home of the craftsperson the making of these textiles; and no possession of a textile is more special than that which is direct of the loom and bought from the maker.

The Ikat technique wherein the cotton or silk yarn for the warp or weft or both are tied and dyed in such a mathematically precise manner that when woven the pattern emerges almost magically in the woven textile is a technique perfected in different centres of excellence across India. This technique in its most complicated form is practised in Patan, Gujarat by a single family of weavers who weave the double ikat famed Patola in Gujarat. Woven exclusively by the Salvi family the red, black, yellow, white geometric and floral patterns are still woven with a waiting list for saris extending up to 3 years. The technique also includes the double and single Bandha of Orissa with its elegant and sophisticated feathery finished patterned motifs that emerge in the tying and dying. The Telia Rumal, so named as woven squares were earlier exported to the African and Arab coast for use as lungi’s and head and shoulder cloth with the use of oil in the preparatory process reflected in the naming.  Over the last few decades the weaving of the Telia has been extended to cotton and silk saris, textile lengths for clothes and a flourishing home furnishing market that is supplied by weavers working in Hyderabad, Pochampally, Chirala and Puthupaka in Andhra.

Bandhini in Rajasthan, Bandhej in Gujarat, the Sungadi of Andhra all use the technique of tying multiple and intricate dots on to the textile to create intricate, colourful and detailed patterns. With multiple ties and repeated dying those areas that are tied reserving their colours to create colourful sari’s, stoles, wraps, turbans and textile lengths craftsperson’s in Jaipur, Jodhpur, Udaipur, Bikaner in Rajasthan and in Jamnagar and Bhuj in Gujarat continue to ply their trade.

The Leheriya, literally the wave patterning on fabrics unique to Rajasthan, where cloth is diagonally rolled and resisted by binding with threads, dyed in myriad hues and resisted again to create multi coloured lines and chequered patterns is popularly used for turbans,  sari’s and wraps.

Another form of textile patterning present almost across the country with unique regional and cultural differences is hand block printing. Using intricately carved wooden or metal blocks, with a built-in ingenious system of air vents block printers of the Chippa community pattern textile lengths. The technique is datable to at least as far back as to the 13th Century with the archaeological finds of printed cotton fragments at a site in Fostat near Cairo believed to have been imported from India. It can safely be assumed that block printed fabrics were being produced and exported from some time before these datable remnants. A still vibrant tradition the Chippas, literally printers, continue to create textiles for contemporary usage with traditional techniques. Plying their trade at centres famous for their particular techniques, with a still vibrant tradition creating textiles for contemporary usage with traditional techniques.  With an enormous motif directory and a finely tuned and variegated colour palate a range of block printing techniques is used by the craftsperson including resist printing on textiles with wax, mud, lac and mern to mordant dyeing and printing to discharge techniques The craftsperson manipulate the block within a hairs breadth of the other with deft dexterity to create an explosion of prints and colours for clothes of all variety and for home furnishings for domestic and overseas trade. An expert block printer could use up to 14 blocks for a motif, gradual layering up to create a completed fabric that could go through 21 process stages and take over two months to produce. Distinct traditions continue till today in centres from Ahmedabad, Surat, Baroda, Deesa, Rajkot, Bhuj, Dhamadka, Ajrakhpur, Jamnagar, Bhawnagar, Jetpur, Mundra in Gujarat; Jaipur, Sanganer, Barmer, Balotra, Pipad, Bagru, Jodhpur, Bikaner, Udaipur, in Rajasthan; Bagh, Indore, Mandsore, Jawad in Madhya Pradesh. Machlipatnam in Andhra Pradesh.

No chapter on textiles can be complete without reference to Khadi – hand spun, hand-woven and a potent symbol of the Swadeshi movement of the Mahatma. This was a unique protest an indigenous standing up against the might of the British Empire, an emotional rallying point in the fight for India’s independence.

The method of teaching and learning remains the same over the millennia  –apprenticeship system the Guru-shishya parampara, most often hereditary passed on from one generation to the next.

Traditions through alive are under threat, as is the livelihood of textile weavers and textile embellishers. It will require a concerted and sustained effort from all of us to ensure that this essential part of our cultural fabric and these keepers of our tradition are nurtured for the next millennia. So next time you travel anywhere in India remember that a weaver, block printer, a dyer, an embroiderer is somewhere waiting to be discovered – be a part of the textile journey.


Textile Technology in ancient India (1) 03 April 2019,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4_hCMbjefQ  

Textile Traditions in Kutch, Evolution & Current Trends
Innovation and technical evolution of craft is often considered a dilution of the authentic and traditional. I am uneasy with perceived dichotomies of traditional/modern, ethnic/contemporary, because they imply some judgment - traditional and ethnic is considered old or bad while modern and contemporary is believed to be good. Rather, tradition must be understood as living, growing and changing. Traditions always evolve appropriately to their socio-economic context, or they die. In the craft-rich region of Kutch, Gujarat, evolution is exemplified in folk art traditions – crafts made for use within the artisans’ own world. I have also observed trends in Kutch crafts largely precipitated by external forces due to increasing production for commercial markets. Fast Embroidery: the Rabaris of Kutch Women of the nomadic Rabari community of Kutch have continued to embroider for their own use - for dowries and personal adornment. Their embroidery styles have changed dramatically over the 4 decades that I have been able to observe them. Each generation of Rabari women looks back and says, “embroidery is going to the dogs,” while the current generation is enthusiastically innovating according to their own strong, but entirely internal, sense of fashion (not much different from our “contemporary” world). Artisans today welcome technical innovations—for the same reasons that we all do. In order to balance decreased time for hand work with increased demand for new fashions, in the late 1980s, women of the Kachhi subgroup of Rabaris invented an ingenious combination of machine and hand stitched embroidery.   In 1995, The Dhebaria Rabari subgroup banned hand embroidery, deeming it “too expensive.” Dhebaria women responded by inventing another culturally permissible substitute: machine appliquéd ready-made ribbons, rickrack and trims. Both innovations opened the world of fashion for Rabari women.  They maintained their aesthetic in new forms, which they themselves determined. Artisans loved the new work because it saved time and they could innovate quickly. With this evolution toward faster fashion most Rabaris now have very little interest, if any, in hand embroidery for themselves. As fashion trends change, increasingly rapidly, patience has dwindled and tastes have changed. Technical Evolution of Craft:  Living Rather than Languishing  For their own fashions, Rabaris chose to use sewing machines to save time and effort. Seeing this from a distance, people lament that what they perceive as a tradition is "dying" or "languishing." But the choices were independent, appropriate, and elegant solutions to the shortage of time that artisans faced.  We use computers rather than hand write, and many other technical time savers. Rabaris clearly expressed their values: they valued their aesthetic and their ability to remain creative directors over retaining old technology. I think when people don't understand this, we have trouble. When designers or NGOs come to the rescue and give young women printed patterns of older work, or work tenuously related to their traditions in order to "help" them get back on track, the young women are bored and do mediocre work. Not surprising, really. If, instead, we consider and value what the artisans are really interested in doing, that wonderful, ebullient traditional energy can be channeled positively. In 2003 I asked Pabiben, a capable Dhebaria Rabari woman, to make a bag in the new “hari-jari” machine appliquéd ribbon style for me. I took it to the US and found that people really liked it. I dubbed it the "Pabi bag," and we began to produce it. It was a bestseller for at least a decade. Today, Pabiben has her own business, complete with a website and Facebook page. And she is still selling very well. Market Driven Trends in Kutch Craft  Today most craft in Kutch is created for commercial markets rather than for the artisans themselves.  This shift in focus has resulted in several trends directed by external forces. Scaling-up >  Market forces seek large scale production of hand craft. Besides the obvious economic advantage, there is an assumption underlying this trend, that the goal of craft is production on the largest scale possible. The assumption reflects the goals of the industrial age: faster, cheaper and more standard products - what machines were invented to make. I question the appropriateness of applying these goals to hand craft. Companies dealing in craft pressure artisans to produce in the largest quantities imaginable. Those who can produce in scale have attained wealth and recognition. To meet demands for huge quantities, they have employed artisans who don't have the means to produce in scale as their workers. This has begun to create significant changes in the social structure. Within traditional societies, clients of artisans were hereditary and evenly distributed.  Artisans were more or less equal in status and that was important to keeping society peaceful and balanced. But with major discrepancies in wealth and social status, we are beginning to see fissions, resentments and discontent.   Superstar artisans > Traditionally, clients and artisans knew each other well. With focus on commercial markets, today, clients are distant and not so personally known. New clients contact economically stronger artisans who have been able to develop business networks. This client-driven network promotes those artisans to the extent that many people believe that there are only one or two weavers in Kutch, one or two block printers, one or two bandhani artisans, when in fact there are hundreds. This makes it difficult for smaller, newer artisans to reach new markets. Conscious innovation by small-scale artisans > As a counteraction to the other two trends, smaller scale artisans have begun to consciously innovate in order to reach higher end new markets. I have been personally involved in this trend. Design education provided first by Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya and now by Somaiya Kala Vidya enables enterprising artisans to innovate effectively for chosen target markets. The Business and Management for Artisans (BMA) post-graduate course introduced by Somaiya Kala Vidya in 2014 furthers artisan capacity to create and market appropriate higher value, small scale production.   As artisans learn design and business skills, not only does their work become more appealing to contemporary markets but in addition, their self-confidence increases, enabling them to reach new markets successfully. Artisans learn to negotiate with clients; design graduates explain their conceptual and technical processes rather than bargain to lower prices. They strive to achieve more egalitarian communication with designers and clients.   Design and business education, coupled with design innovations, also increase access to market contacts. Design graduates learn to use technology to support rather than supplant traditional hand production methods. Artisan designers use smartphones and social media to stay in touch with clients, rather than switching from hand to screenprint, or from hand-inserted woven patterns to jacquard looms. As individual innovations on traditions have flourished, small production artisans have succeeded in reaching new markets, and markets have actually expanded. As one artisan said, “My income has increased ten-fold. But the Master artisan for whom I used to work has not suffered a bit.” If we understand craft traditions as living and evolving, innovation is a clear prognosis for sustainability. Judy Frater is the Founder-Director of Somaiya Kala Vidya, an institute for artisans' education in Kutch, Gujarat. An Ashoka Fellow, she is also the former founder of Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya and recipient of the Crafts Council of India Kamla award (2010). Frater has lived and worked in Kutch for over 25 years.

The American Divide, Artisans from both side

From San Francisco to New York, there are thousands of urban and rural American artisans toiling away in both glamour and grime. Their workshops, skills and motivations often differ widely even though their crafts end up in the very same gallery display cases. While artisans from all places manage to survive in a high tech world, there are ups and downs to both sides.

Even though there are many craft galleries throughout America, many artisans still struggle to make ends meet. But through state and regional initiatives and economic development programs, even the most remote artisans are offered assistance to make their livelihoods viable. For example, the construction of the Kentucky Appalachian Artisan Center and the Kentucky School of Craft has encouraged economic development in the craft sector throughout the state. Both these institutes, as well as other around the US, offer artisans training in identifying target markets and strengthening their business skills. These topics, familiar to artisans in developing nations around the globe, often don't seem necessary for American artisans, but some artisans, both rural and urban, find this assistance necessary in order to succeed. Of course there are two sides to the work of American artisans. Some urban artisans exhibit their art-like pieces in galleries in New York where collectors from around the globe can shop for high priced jewelry, glass and other handmade goods. These artisans can take advantage of a wealth of available resources that come with living in a city. Raw materials ranging from precious jewels to colored leather to silk ribbon are widely accessible at fairly affordable costs. There are also abundant markets where artisans can offer their goods for sale and expose new buyers and promoters to their craft. These urban artisans also have easy access to rich sources of visual stimulation. New York artisans can browse at leisure the Museum of Arts & Design, which regularly hosts shows focused on contemporary craft, as well as the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum. In addition urban artists can stop by any number of exceptional art and craft galleries to view their competition, gain inspiration and gather feedback from customers to incorporate in their next design endeavors. As urban crafters become more a part of city life, the cities have extended assistance to continue the growth. For example the New York Foundation for the Arts organizes a program called New York Creates which assists over 600 regional artisans including many immigrant artisans. They are planning to host a weeklong event in Queens this autumn where full and part time artisans can exhibit their work at a minimal cost. The New York Foundation for the Arts hopes that this event will encourage not only sales for artisans but diverse collaboration as well. This initiative is paralleled by the Oakland Artisan Marketplace in California which offers venues for artisans to sell their products as well as additional business training. So what exactly is the downside to being an urban artisan? With so many market venues, raw materials and design inspiration, it is hard to believe that there are any negative aspects. However, many city artisans have to deal with high rents for both their living and studio spaces as well as a higher cost of living. Also with a higher concentration of artisans living and working together, there is competition for venues, sales and customers. Also with changing business regulation, often urban artisans, as small businesses, suffer from new policies and laws which are prohibitive to them. So despite all the difference and challenges that both urban and rural artisans in American must face on a daily basis, it all seems to even out in the end. Artisans, from both sides, need dedication and passion to put them over the top and help them survive in the ever competitive craft world.

The Anokhi Museum of Hand Printing,
A visit to the Amber Fort is a 'must see' destination when visiting Jaipur, but visitors are increasingly adding a little gem of a museum onto their list as well. In the fort's shadow and a mere 10 minute walk through the cobbled streets of Amber, the historic capital of Rajasthan, lies the Anokhi Museum of Hand Printing (AMHP). Located in a magnificently restored 16th haveli, the museum displays a selection of block printed textiles alongside images, tools and related objects -- all chosen to provide an in-depth look into the complexity of the craft. As the sole museum dedicated to block printing, AMHP strives to educate both scholar and general public alike; but more importantly, the artisans themselves are encouraged to visit and view their craft in a unique and inspirational way.   The mansion that houses the collection, the Chanwar Palkiwon ki Haveli, is itself a testament to Indian craftsmanship. Anokhi founder, John Singh, purchased the ruined mansion in the late 1970s and eventually began a 3 year restoration project in 1989 with architects, Nimish Patel & Paula Zaveri. Their goal was to demonstrate that traditional methods were still viable and cost effective in the modern world. By using indigenous materials, time-honoured construction methods and skilled local craftsmen versed in the knowledge of their forefathers, the successful restoration earned a UNESCO award for Cultural Preservation in 2000.      Upon completion, the use for the haveli was yet to be determined until Pritam Singh and Rachel Bracken-Singh, John's son and daughter-in-law, envisioned a museum dedicated to block printed textiles. The Anokhi Museum of Hand Printing opened its doors in 2005 and welcomes a growing audience each year. Today a visit offers not only an education on block printing, but also a rare glimpse into Rajasthan's glorious architectural past. As the galleries suggest, the museum maintains an active acquisition program supplemented by loans from the Anokhi Archives as well as a variety of other lenders. While the museum focuses on contemporary cloth, including garments and home furnishings, displays of antique textiles provide an historic context for the collection. Galleries dedicated to Ajrakh, Balotra, Bagru, Sanganer and Jaipur display traditional costumes still worn today, albeit in dwindling numbers. Natural dyes are part of the story and chemical dyes are included too, along with information about dabu mud-resist and varak gold printing processes. In accordance with its mission, AMHP is always looking for practitioners and designers who are hand printing fabric. Exhibitions of contemporary work exemplify how block printing is evolving and adapting in new directions. Above all, education is the museum's most important mandate. The staff has developed popular tours and hands-on workshops for all ages and skill levels. Furthermore, to illuminate aspects of the craft, a film and slide show plays in the auditorium consistently during the day. Yet perhaps the highlight of any trip is time spent with our resident karigars craftsmen. Visitors delight in the opportunity to work side-by-side with the museum's skilled chhippa printer and block carver, and frequently leave with a block printed handkerchief tucked in their pocket. More concentrated time with the craftsmen may be arranged by signing up for a workshop.     While we appreciate our audience from across the globe, our first concern has always been our neighbors in Amber. Believing that education begins 'at home', the staff has developed specific community initiatives to generate interest in block printing in the museum's own back yard. By making children a priority, perhaps our proudest achievement is that every schoolboy and girl in Amber repeatedly visits the museum on one of our school programmes, and many have participated in weekend workshops designed to introduce them to their cultural heritage. One of our most popular initiatives has been our annual "What's Happeningat the Museum?" party that updates locals on museum developments and encourages them to visit with family and friends. This event includes tours, workshops and games led by a dedicated staff, all natives of Amber. Lastly, the museum supports an ongoing research programme to study block printing in select regions of northern India. The goal is to discover, interpret and document the state of the craft and its practitioners as block printing adapts to the pressures of modern textile production. In conjunction with this research, AMHP is publishing a series of books that culminate in museum exhibitions.  To date our publications include -- Print & Progress: Innovation & Revival, 1970-2005, Balotra: The Complex Language of Print, Ajrakh:Patterns& Borders and Sanganer: Traditional Textiles-Contemporary Cloth. In an effort to provide a concise compendium, Blockopedia: A Beginner's Guide will be available in 2013.    The Anokhi Museum of Hand Printing continues to grow with new acquisitions, educational programmes, publications and exhibitions. Challenges face the printing industry as it tries to keep pace with modern manufacturing. Hopefully, through these endeavors, visitors from home and abroad will leave the museum both a little wiser and a little more sensitive to the need of protecting this enduring living art form.
 

The Art of Thewa, In Conversation with Master-Craftsman Ganpat Soni's
The transition from a diamond cutter, in Bombay, to a thewa master craftsman and National Award winner, did not come easy for Ganpat Soni. For a person belonging to a family of minakari craftspersons, thewa was a new and untried craft, and the years in between full of trials and uncertainty. Thewa is a craft practised by a few who specialise in the art of fusing filigreed gold sheets on to glass to make jewellery and other objects that are decorative, utilitarian, or both. Recalling the initial struggles Soni says: 'It was only after two years of intensive experimentation and many failures and financial losses that we could arrive at the thewa technique and now guarantee 98 per cent quality. As the work requires intricate detailing and skilful fusion of the gold onto the glass base, wastage is high - overheating can break the glass or melt the gold. Alternatively, if not treated properly the gold filigree does not fuse well and soon comes off.' Narrating how he stumbled onto the secret of thewa, he says: 'Many times we were on the verge of giving up. Tired, one evening, I left my work to fly a kite, a passion with me. On returning, I discovered that the slow heating process had worked its own magic and the first perfectly fused thewa piece had been created.' Recognition, in the form of a National Award, followed soon after. Receiving his award for thewa work before his father did, he proudly displays the thewa piece encased in velvet. Uncertainty about the future, and indecision, are obvious as he acknowledges that his sons are choosing to move away from this craft. Soni says, however that he does not blame them: 'The problems are many - few selling outlets, lack of real appreciation for a thewa piece, with people often questioning the purity of gold rather than admiring the intricacy and skill of the designs. Also, Belgian glass, the base material for a thewa piece is becoming increasingly difficult to find, and new sources are not forthcoming.' However, there is increased awareness about thewa both nationally and internationally. Soni has received enthusiastic responses to displays and demonstrations of his craft at international fairs and exhibitions in the past, but - regretfully - he adds: 'very few confirmed orders'. Philosophical about his failures and successes, he nevertheless looks to the future and mulls about patenting the thewa process.  

The Artist and the Craftsperson,

I am tempted first to relate a story heard among the Devangan weavers of Chattisgarh about why the weaver remains poor.

Weavers are Devi worshippers because when Ma Durga was fighting the Demon, the only way to vanquish him was by fighting him with the pure energy of her nakedness. After her victory she felt the need to be clothed. The Devangan, from the word Dev (God) and Anga (pant of the body) was asked by the Goodess to prepare a cloth suitable for her with fibre taken from the stem of the lotus, which he dutifully did. She was extremely pleased and granted him a Platter full of Gold that would serve him for generations. The Gods were in the meanwhile very troubled by this boon, for then the weaver might stop weaving and they decided to do him out of this benefit. So, Vishnu disguised as a Brahmin presented himself to the Devangan, who respectfully left the seat for him. As a result the Gold Platter went by default to the Brahmin. The weaver complained of this to the Devi, she was angry, cursed the Brahmin for his greed and gave the Devangan a 'Mani', a gem that on touch would turn all into Gold. When the Devangan weaver took this home, his wife was enraged at this measly stone for what they needed was rice and dal. She threw the 'Mani' at the wall where promptly another doorway was created and the 'Mani' lay broken into two. The winds just pass in from one door and out the other. He was condemned to live by his labour and live according to his experience. Today, has the artist-waver retrieved the 'Mani', the illumination from within and perhaps the Gold!? Till fairly recent times, where ever the community remained a cohesive unit the role of the craftspersons, particularly weavers, was that of interpreters of the community, its ideation actively contributing to its critique and its artistic furtherance. The process was integral and not separated by caste occupation. To that extent the identity was confirmed and not questioned. That this 'Mani' - the right to create, was thrown away, was also inbuilt into the contradictions of the craftsperson's position vis-à-vis the rest of the community. The 'Mani' was too potent a symbol of authority, but the Brahman, wily as he is, foresaw perhaps the reaction of a starved wife. The potential of the 'Artist Craftsperson' has always been there and one could extend the meaning to include the practice of any art. The separation of the Artist and the Craftsperson is of recent origin. Maybe more acutely since 'Division- of - Labour' took on a drastic meaning, and since atomization became the thumb rule for efficiency in production. This also created distances and gaps in communication. The unit started becoming self sufficient and a world unto itself - with its own vocabulary, its own syntax that was not easily understood by the outsider. The speciality clubs with 'insiders' and 'outsiders' clearly demarcated, continue till today. Coomaraswamay felt, "Our modern system of thought has substituted for this decision of labour a spiritual caste system which divides men into species. Those who have lost most by this are the artists, professionally speaking, on the one hand, and laymen generally on the other" 1 Today though, at the turn of the century, we are in the midst of experiencing the need to melt down boundaries, reach out and bridge some of the gaps, cross-communicate and penetrate alien territories. Probably it is the fear of total emasculation that prompts this need. This is so even amongst the distinct branches of science, even amongst separate cultures, even within the various art forms. New age science is toying with ideas like the interdependence of environment and man to the extent of shaping each other simultaneously as opposed to one shaping the other. The bench marks of evolution are being perceived as those that were most efficient for community interdependence of the species- basically symbiotic, rather than the survival of the fittest. The other day, there was a report in the newspapers of a professor at Delhi's Zakir Hussain College working on the concept of a 'fuzzy-wuzzy' world where vagueness was a positive attribute of adaptability in natural processes. One could liken it to the Zen bamboo leaning in the wind (and not breaking!). Also to retaining a sense of humour! The world in your drawing room is also violently tearing down demarcations economically, politically, culturally. The individual is uncomfortably jerked out of his safe niche and is being forced into a constant state of self-evaluation. Infact, no evaluation is possible from a static position. The evaluator has to shift perspectives to be able to take cognisance of the self. In this state of constant movement, a lot of cross-fertilization is also taking place and hybrid genes are multiplying. This is throwing up its own dilemmas. Fundamentalism being one response. The other being a desire to search out a deeper way to establish communication, to seek out commonalities without being homogenised to the extent of losing all sense of the particular. Infact it is to place the particular in perspective. The hierarchy of art forms, the sperateness of art forms is also being challenged. The classical, Folk, Bazaar and also the Crafts which were nomenclatures denoting their hierarchy, are now being absorbed into contemporary artistic sensibilities, leaving behind their hierarchical connotations. But where does this leave the practitioners of the original? Is the economic factor which divides on art from another as unimpeachable as it seems? This brings one to the specific situation of a country like India. The traditional crafts are still a part of the life style of the more coherent traditional communities, inspite of major sociological changes that are taking pace, even in the rural hinterlands. Crafts are being absorbed into the larger urban and metropolitan markets, where their social value has been diminished and reduced to being ethnic images without specific meaning. The role of the craftsperson as interpreter of social norms, values, and persona has also been usurped and he is now only a reproducer of like- images. But as I said, inspite of this massive shift of place in society, the traditional craftsperson, in pockets, still clings to the social significance that was ascribed in the more tight knit community patterns. This role is now being simultaneously appropriated in the contemporary-urban context by the artist-craftsperson. What is still problematic and disturbingly so for the urbane artist in India is the continuing economic divide. So the 'Mani' is still denied to the hapless Devangan who made the first cloth to clothe the Devi and from whom the meaning in craft was derived. This discomfort has been largely assuaged in the industrially developed part of the world as the 'hand-crafted' phenomena is reduced to a specialized niche in the economic system and is practiced by the very few. So a nomenclature like 'artist-craftsperson' is not at odds within the existing practice of the crafts. This is not the case in this country where Handicrafts is one of the largest employment sectors next only to agriculture. Gandhian economics envisaged a continuing role for the handicrafts as an essential and meaningful part of the economic tie-up, but that was never taken seriously as an alternative in development theories. So now we find these roles losing significance on the one hand and also losing energy on the other, to give a new meaning which might re- instate an intrinsic purpose to the activity. This is the context within which an exhibition of Artist-craftspersons could be poised. The trust is towards establishing a position of emotional consolidation. The critique is of decades of experiencing the slow draining of purpose and meaning. The re-capturing is of the sheer joy of crafting as an essential act. As an art it places itself alongside the most tactile of the arts. The 'Chaunsath Kalas' the 64 vocational art forms as reported by Coomarswamy were all of angelic origins. The 'Silpas' were vocational arts and generally reported to be 18 in number. Significantly in these were included the potter, architect, painter, weaver and barber 2 . Today, how would we club these various arts and what would be the criteria of segregation? The journeys taken for assessment, have not only been in the mind, these journeys had to be taken physically as well to regions of non-context; the inner discomforts have to be worked upon and continuously; perspectives are layered for prismatic vision- this is perhaps not the age for single and forceful statements. Please bear with me, I'd like to re-tell another story, quite abridged, originally unearthed by Heinrich Zimmer 3 . There was a Rabi in a Polish town called Cracow, who had this dream that he should go to a particular bridge in the capital /city of Prague, under which at a specific location he would find buried a treasure. He disregarded the dream. But it kept coming back to him several times. Finally, the old Rabbi pushed himself out of his lethargy and made the trip to Prague. There he found the bridge heavily guarded. He visited it everyday to assess if there was anyway of approaching it. A young guard noticed him and asked the reason for his daily appearance. The Rabbi told him. The guard laughed and said that if dreams came true he himself should be following his own, recurring dream that told him to go to the town of Cracow, where there was a man by the name of Eisik S/o Jekel, and in this man's house, under the dirty stove lay this buried treasure. The guard said, "Can you imagine my going to look for this man with this common name? Every other person is called Eisik or Jekel, how would I find him?" The Rabbi realized who he was referring to and rushed back home to dig under his own stove.
 

The Bedrock of Printed Crafts, Block-makers of Pethapur
India has been renowned for its printed textiles since millennia. Accounts of travelers, writers and poets have extolled the brilliance of its colors and patterns and its value as a trade good traversing the Silk Road and maritime routes to markets across the world. This continues to be true as the array and variety of hand printed textiles continues to be quite literally mind-boggling. The multiplicity of traditions and techniques and profusion of design vocabularies and forms has but one thing in common - the wood carved block used to imprint the pattern. This even in these technologically evolving times continues to be the very bedrock of the craft of hand-block printed textiles The skilled carvers of these blocks are usually located in geographic proximity to the printer community; this close-knit synergy of mutual dependencies has long linked both professions. Yet when tasked with a complex print assignment requiring just that extra detail and finish the printers seek out the perfect block, for this they need to make the long trek to a small quiet overgrown village in the heart of Gujarat – Pethapur. The mastery in Pethapur is a well-kept secret in the textile world. Its exceptionality also lying in the fact that there is no local printing activity conducted here. This was not always the case and we are fortunate that unlike other oral traditions the 1961 Census tracks the history of change and metamorphosis over the past century. According to the Census, Pethapur’s rise to fame can be credited to one Tribhovan Khushal. In the early 1800’s this enterprising block maker and printer designed a print that found great favor in Siam (now Thailand). Further experiments inspired by the British chintz patterns also proved to be a rage in the export market. However a downturn in his fortune led Kushal to concentrate on only making and supplying blocks to other centres.  Gradually Pethapur was overshadowed as a printing center although the blocks continue to be made and sourced from there. In the 1960’s this trend continued and the craft was controlled by the Gujjar Suthar community of carpenters who constituted the majority of the 122 households employed in the workshops. Pethapur had by sheer excellence of its handwork transformed itself to achieve the status of a craft village dedicated to a singular tradition - a bespoke block supplier of high excellence to printers across India. The Pethapur of today is a sleepy place where little seems to stir. No addresses are needed as residents know exactly where visitors are to be directed. The craft is now practiced in about 8 to 9 workshops that have an average of 4 to 5 craftsmen employed in each. Of the Gujjar-Suthar community - Ghanshyam Bhai Popatlal and Chetan Bhai continue their hereditary profession, the legendary National Award winner Maneklal Gajjar having passed away in 2010 leaving no professional heirs. The craft is now dominated by members of the Prajapati community - Govindlal Prajapati (now in semi-retirement), Mukeshbhai and others who provide continuity and mastery. While it takes years to develop a mastery over carving, the block-makers learning needs to extend across a wide breadth of other subjects too: An understanding of wood ensures a long-lasting, hard-wearing block; the knowledge of print technologies is needed to render a sharp, precise and level imprint. Familiarity with dye chemistry and dye absorption helps to create clean prints without blotches or drips. Additionally, expertise over the principals of geometry is essential to carve fields and outlines that are flawless matched giving a precision fit to the intricate details and multiple color combinations of the block. The number of blocks required can range from one to more than fourteen depending on the pattern and the number of colors and detail fillers. A basic set however consist of the main outline block – rekh; the filler detail pattern blocks – gadh and the datta  that forms the solid color backdrop to the pattern. A set can take anywhere between 2 to 8 days to make with blocks ranging in size from a small of 1” to 16”’s though the average size is usually 4 to 6” across. The craftsman starts by choosing the wood. In Pethapur only seasoned Sagwan – teak will do as it works best for printing being both long-wearing and with a low dye absorption rate. After shaping and smoothening the wood a white chalk base is applied on the carving surface onto which the design is traced for increased visibility. The craftsman starts with carving the rekh before moving on to the subsidiary blocks. Carving the deep recesses with a fiddle-drill they use an array of chisels and files for the finer high relief shaping. These expert craftsmen carve with such exactness that their fine lines, often just a millimeter thin can be set in close proximity to each other. A small slip, a wrongly angled stroke is all that lies between a perfect block and irreparable damage. Their knowledge of geometry ensures that the datta and gadh block fit precisely into the rekh with no runoff or overlap. An equally skilled task is to guarantee that the ends of the block are carved in a manner that links it to the next block without even a hairbreadth gap. Finally they drill air passages into the body of the blocks to aid air circulation during printing ensuring that the fabric does not adhere to the block when lifted. The craftsmen maintain a master copy of each block carved, an invaluable design directory and reference for themselves and their clients. Despite such continuities the Pethapur story is one of precipitous decline. With a high speed highway connecting it to Ahmedabad and the state capital – Gandhinagar now abutting this hamlet, property agents roam the streets tempting block-makers with huge sums for their land. Rapid change is in the air and perhaps the time has come for these living repositories of knowledge and technique to become teachers –gurus to the next generation of block-carvers. Making their learning accessible to other centres, improving skills, raising standards and teaching those who wish to join their trade. [gallery ids="165449,165450,165451,165452,165453,165454"]   First published in the Sunday Herald.