Bridge Bharat Textile panels

“The principle of the beauty of craft is no different from the law that rules the spirit underlying all things…..A true example of craft is the same as a passage of a holy scripture. Only in place of words, truth is conveyed through material, shape, colour and pattern…..Faith and beauty are but different aspects of the Absolute Reality.”

Soetsu Yanagi

Gopika Nath digests a feast of art-craft at Goa’s major arts festival and advocates for authentic creativity.

The Serendipity Arts Festival, now in its ninth edition, is held each December in the city of Panjim, Goa. It is a vast exposition that includes food, dance, music, fine art, craft and more – almost impossible to experience it all. Being an artist-craftsperson, I decided to focus only on the craft elements presented in The Infinite Forest: An Exploration of Material Possibilities that the programme offered in this regard.

The Directorate of Accounts building in Panjim, constructed in the 1850s, was the venue for the craft section. While there is much charm in these old buildings, they are not built as art galleries, requiring organizers and exhibitors to improvise. I found that the small rooms presented as dimly lit, with black curtains at the doorway of each room, created a rather foreboding environment to view embroidery and other crafts.

‘Bridge Bharat’ showcased the traditional Gond art tree motif with embroidery from different parts of India, choosing to incorporate Lucknawi Chikankari and the reversible satin stitch of the Chamba Rumal onto textile scrolls, hand-painted by Gond artist Venkat Shyam. ‘No Borders’ focussed on Kasuti embroidery of Karnataka and true to their ideology, a Lebanese illustrator, kantha artisans of Bengal and elements of applique work were present in the twenty-foot hand-woven fabric created for the Festival.

No Borders, Narrative Panel

The artefacts created by Devrai art village in Panchgani, Maharastra, utilized the lost wax process native to  Chhattisgarh and Ghardchiroli and created a small water garden with large cranes, tortoises and other creatures of the natural world. The lampshades in their exhibition space created a subtle texture of light and shadow on the walls and ceiling. One special feature of this particular exhibit was their recently patented craft of fusing stone with metal, which they have called Rock Dhokra.

V’aarsa had created mythological figures of Kritimukha, Garuda, Sheshanaga, Gandabheruda and others from the Indian pantheon, while sa Ladakh had printed long scrolls with digital images of the work of artists from the Biennale held earlier in the year. These translucent chiffon fabrics were placed a tad too close to each other to find any clarity in viewing.  One made allowances for the fact that they were serving as memories that were hazy at best. Even so, the limited space for hanging so many scrolls did detract from the viewing experience.

Moving on from these darkened spaces, one came up on the curatorial venture by Dr. Kristine Michael titled  Past Forward: Remix and Collaboration in Ceramic and Glass. Overlooking the Mandovi River with Georgian-styled windows that filtered in daylight, the exhibition space was a veritable contrast. There were numerous participating artists and collaborators, and it was heartening to note that all collaborators had been acknowledged and named in this part of the exhibit, as in some of the other craft presentations.

Partha Dasgupta, Sailing in the Blue

‘Sailing in the Blue’ was a joint effort between traditional boat makers of West Bengal, Azulejo tile, terracotta craftsmen and roof tile makers of Goa. While Mangalore tiles have been made in Goa since the 1800s and Kumbhar pottery traces its roots to antiquity, the Azulejo tiles were brought to Goa by the Portuguese but never made locally. Although an identifying feature of Goa, it was only when contemporary artists returned after studying the art in Portugal that production commenced in the state. Putting these disparate elements together, Partha Dasgupta dedicated the work to the struggle and lives of sailors, fishermen and migrants. The text of a Koli song in Konkani Marathi, translated into English, was a nice touch, where the boatman sings: “ I, the oarsman of this boat, am the King of the Seas…..” The blue and white tiles on the wall formed a backdrop to the wooden structure of the boat protruding from and partially drawn on the wall, with countless terracotta figures placed uniformly, filling the boat, each an exact replica of the other. It was a large installation occupying half the ample-sized room. The contrast of rustic terracotta, with the smoothly glazed surface of the tiles and roughly hewn boats or parts of it, was striking but also awkward, especially in its display.

‘Twisted Tapestry’ by Neela Venkataraman, in collaboration with Rukmani Pandurang Parwar, was an interplay of clay and bamboo which seemed more ungainly and crude than attracting with its abstract forms wrapped in shades of blue and green. A rather striking work was ‘Mosiac of Identities’ by Nehmat Mongia with metalwork technical assistance from Sharafat Ali. A variety of techniques, from glass blowing, flame working, glass bottle cutting, slumping and fusing, bead making, ceramics, wood, metal and enamelling, went into making this installation of alien-like figures. What I liked the most was the use of vibrant colour and enamel work. But, there was just too much going on in each piece, and too many of them were placed close together to really appreciate the intricacies of the crafts. Here, I wished that the artist had made some utilitarian objects sparsely decorated with a couple of techniques so that I could hold and savour and feel the intimacy of material and design. Some of which were really exquisite.

Artist Hemi Bawa, in collaboration with Sumit Jawa, Rambir Bhati and Krishna Nand, presented a life-sized glass Frangipani tree as a tribute to its beauty. I have a great fondness for the Champa tree and the heady fragrance of its flower. But more than this, it is the fine craftsmanship of nature in the finely etched veins on her leaves, even the most tender of them, that leave me gasping with delight. However, Bawa’s tree had no flowers, and the leaves were chunky. The translucent quality of pastel green glass lent an aesthetic quality, but other than that, despite looking from various angles, I was disappointed because it didn’t quite capture the magic I felt while beholding its natural manifestation. And it was two ceramic works mounted against a blue wall in the vicinity of this tree that stole the show. Delicate skeletons of two fish, hanging from the ceiling, by Nimmy Joshi, evocative of how global warming and climate change are affecting the planet, although that wasn’t the artist’s concept.

Ice Age X. Nimmy Joshi

Looking at these exhibits at the Serendipity Arts Festival 2024, I was compelled to re-think my idea of being an artist-craftsman To look at what one really wanted to achieve by being an artist-craftsperson. This reminded me of Soetsu Yanagi, who said, “The work of the artist-craftsman is to clear the way ahead by pointing in the right direction for the eventual return of craftsmanship to the hands of the people themselves… to save craftsmen and their work for the future… It is hoped that the artist-craftsman will awaken to this obligation to the community.”

After a decade-plus of working as a textile designer, when I shut my design studio in 1996 to pursue art,  I did so with an intent to bring attention to handcrafting by using hand-embroidered textiles as art. I didn’t really know how I could achieve this but the primary motivation was to accord value to hand crafting. I’d worked on government projects that, despite one’s best efforts, never really got off the ground. Bureaucracy and politics interfered with the process. I also felt extremely uncomfortable telling the craftsmen what to do. The professional designer imposing ideas just didn’t feel right. And it led to my adopting the role of artist-craftsman.

Writing in the mid-twentieth century, Yanagi had chided the artist-craftsman for failing  to provide the requisite direction and I think that instead of redeeming ourselves in this regard, we have probably made things far worse for the craftsman than better.  I felt a deep sense of discomfort standing in the midst of the grand exposition, wondering how we could bring back the dignity and intimacy of making and using that once formed the essence of hand-crafting. While art is hung on walls, crafted objects of use are generally placed where we can handle them, holding them in our hands, creating an intimate relationship between maker and materials, user and product.

In this context, the works on display certainly didn’t evoke intimacy but created an indifferent distance between the object and the viewer. They didn’t invite the eye to go beyond the surface to touch and feel. Some works were exquisitely crafted in terms of technique, but the forms appeared out of context, probably in a bid to call attention to themselves. They did, bringing forth questions about the current trend where craft practices are vying for the fine art space and trying to scream loud and large with tactics that take away the elegance and dignity of craft and crafting practices.

Bringing together works from diverse practices that employ crafting methodologies, these presentations at the Serendipity Arts Festival 2024 gave one a unique opportunity to see how ideas have been emerging in this sector, lending insight into the possibilities for a more organic ethos for the evolution of crafting practices.

Mosaic of Identities, detail

As someone who makes art using embroidery, knitting and crochet, it is the slow process that keeps me grounded in my humanness, aware of feelings that could otherwise be buried, and dealing with them, however uncomfortable they may be, to find clarity and solutions thereby.  This and the intimacy of hand with fabric and thread is close to my heart. Our inherited ancient crafting methods, along with a living tradition of crafts, is also something that I appreciate deeply. But, was the idea of getting value, attention and dignity to crafting practices of the hand through the vehicle of fine art really the way forward when doing so has seemingly taken us farther away from the essential ideologies of craft and its processes?

Gopikanath flower, Bridge Bharat, chikankari on raw silk

The random collaborative ideas of bringing together Gond art with Chikankari and Chamba Rumal embroidery by just transposing the stitching techniques without the visual and historical context seem to render the entire traditions asunder. Chamba Rumals were not just a dorukha embroidery technique; they were linked to the miniature tradition of the Pahari painters, religious symbolism and depiction of Krishna’s Raas Lila, the battle of Kurukshetra and more in the same vein. They were stories. They were made as offerings to officials, exchanged as gifts during marriages and made with great care by women in the royal households. And the odd flower embroidered on the hand-painted Gond-inspired scrolls just became needlework using the reversible satin stitch. How can it, then, claim to be linked to the Chambal Rumal? The Gond artist who painted the scroll and the embroidery artisans from Himachal and UP didn’t meet and collaborate. The concept was conceived by ‘Bridge Bharat’, and the artisans were no more than skilled labour, producing the envisaged product.

Gopikanath flower, Bridge Bharat, hand-painted Gond tree motif with chikankari embroidery on raw silk

But true craft cannot be without creativity.  Depriving the craftsperson of his capacity to visualise, imagine, improvise and bring his or her history, knowledge and skill of the craft to the process of making demeans and doesn’t provide a wholesome way forward for the survival of crafting techniques and crafts persons. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, in his extensive study of creativity, observed that creative outputs appear from individuals who have worked hard over many years to master a particular domain. Therefore, when ideas are imposed or come forth as “a lightning-bolt of unexpected inspiration”, it cannot be seen as truly creative but, at best, novel. This is probably the most pertinent change that artist-craftsman and entrepreneurs in this millennium could work towards: a return to the ancient practice of making and concept as the dual role of the craftsman.

Bridge Bharat, gopikanath using satin stitch

While repeating verbatim what was done in the past is the death knell for crafts, I can’t imagine such juxtaposition of crafts from diverse regions can go far. The ideas are novel but not integrated. They disregard the visual and cultural history of the crafts by randomly bringing them together, no matter how pleasing to the eye. Chikankari, the ethereal fabric created by white-on-white embroidery on ultrafine, soft and translucent muslin fabrics, loses the very quality that made it the choice of the Mughal and Awadh courts, when worked on thick raw silk.  We need to rethink what we are doing today, consider what we draw from as history, tradition and culture, and the future we envisage for these traditions to carry forth the cultural and technical facets to continue a great and unparalleled legacy. I believe that instilling the concept of novelty versus organic and authentic creativity will kill it faster than repetition would.

V’aarsa, Kirtimukha

Joseph Campbell believed that mythology could provide contemporary society with heroes worthy of emulation and thus provide for a better world. Dr Manjiri Thakoor of V’aarsa has taken mythological figures and recreated life-sized likenesses of them in metal wrapped with jute. Dyeing Jute with natural dyes was a challenge and she has worked with artists rather than artisans to create these figures. Although I grew up in a Hindu household and have had more than a passing interest in the myths and legends, I couldn’t recall most of the figures on display, nor could I fathom the message she wanted to bring to the viewing public. Maybe others well versed with Kirtimukha, Seshnag, Garuda and Gandabehera knew their origins and feats, but I was lost as to what message these figures, based on animal forms, brought to our contemporary human world. I wish that Dr Thakoor and her team had invested in describing why they chose these particular figures, inspiring us to delve deeper into their mythologies to ruminate on their significance for our lives, as suggested by Campbell.

In writing about the Indian craftsman in ancient India, Anand Coomaraswamy suggested that the assurance of his position, purpose and value, coupled with the absence of anxiety about the immediate future, created an aura of leisure and imbued their works with serenity and dignity which characterized true works of art and craft. Devrai Art Village has the potential to build such an environment where the craftspeople know their purpose, are assured of their place in the art village and do not carry the uncertainty and anxieties of those working in a free trade market, where competition erodes excellence. However, I didn’t get a sense of the artistry and intimacy of hand and material in the works. Too many creatures and fauna crowding a small man-made pond in a darkened room made it impossible to appreciate the delicacy of the crafting techniques. And some of the metal and stone-fused sculptures really seemed raw and gauche. I realise that the development is nascent, and there was excitement to show off a newly patented technique, but a true craftsman from the era that Coomaraswamy spoke of wouldn’t display such nascent work publicly. Preferring to spend time experimenting and perfecting the product, before doing so.

Devrai Art Village Rock Dhokra Tortorise in the pond

In view of the possibilities of artificial intelligence pervading the arts, excellence in skill is what can give an edge to the hand-made. Therefore, I couldn’t help but wonder why those who envisaged the large, detailed cranes made with the lost wax technique – itself an elaborate process wouldn’t suggest the stones encased with metal be chiselled and carved with the same intricacy and detail, creating a wow factor. Giving us goosebumps as we beheld something exquisite before our eyes.

Many Rock Dhokra products were mounted and stacked against the corridor outside the viewing space, which really didn’t do anything to elevate this craft to an art. In fact, just yards down the same corridor were multiple rooms dedicated to the works of the artist Bhupen Khakhar. Curated by Gulam Mohammed Sheikh, himself an esteemed artist, the works were well-lit, with walls hued to show off the art to its best advantage. It made one curious as to why these objects weren’t displayed with the same elegance

Over the last two centuries, there have been great technical developments throughout the world, creating innumerable possibilities and alternatives, leading to a surplus of ideas and an inevitable devaluation of products. A continuous search for novelty and economic gain generates a sense of disquiet, which is becoming characteristic of contemporary society, but “craftsmanship has another character.”, where “the relationship between the craftsman and his work is direct, often spontaneous, and has a human value. Craftsmanship can seldom compete with industrial production, but it often surpasses it in cultural value…” and “the most vital way of preserving and cultivating craftsmanship is to profit by the inspiration of the last eras, enlivened by a contemporary view of life…..We should foster the production of craft objects based on traditional forms…..We must develop creativity in craftsmanship” (Dr Czeslaw Knothe) is what was suggested almost a century ago, but are we doing so, and do we have any cohesive and collective agenda in this regard?

Gopikanath using chippai method (not counted thread method)

No Borders, a young entrepreneurship from North Karnataka, worked with Kasuti artisans to create a long silk scroll that was designed by a Lebanese artist, who “reframed illustrations” of the artisans.  This was then interpreted with Kasuti and Ari embroidery along with Ilkal weavers, trans and cis-women artisans, to create a narrative tapestry. Derived from the Kannada words Kai, meaning ‘hand’ and suti, meaning ‘cotton’,  the art of kasuti is said to date back to the golden rule of the Chalukya dynasty, between the sixth and twelfth centuries. Traditionally, it was done as counted thread embroidery that used the running stitch, darning stitch and cross stitch, some of which created reversible effects. Muragi and Gavanti are variations of the running stitch that are similar to the Holbein stitch, named after the fifteenth-century German painter Hans Holbein the Younger. Today, the preferred use of Kasuti embroidery is to print the design on the fabric and embroider it disregarding the warp and weft threads, primarily using Muragi or double running stitch, Gavanti, a variation of the Holbein stitch and Menthi or cross stitch. Counted thread work is laborious, but it gives very fine and intricate lines, which become warped and look distinctly tacky when done using the printed and ‘chippai’ method, as seen in the narrative tapestry presented by ‘No Borders’.

Most traditional kasuti designs were inspired by nature, the local culture of the time, and rangoli designs. Temple gopuras, chariots, palanquins, tulsi vrindavans, howdahs, flowers, animals and birds are some motifs in a repertoire that exceeds seven hundred.  Various organizations are working to replicate these motifs in hand-painted and block-printed methodologies to preserve them and encourage use in other areas. However, removed from the stitching technique, they became mere motifs and the significance of Kasuti is watered down. Yet, working these or other motifs without the counted thread technique also changes the association with traditional Kasuti embroidery. To my mind, the issue is a complex one because even as contemporary embroiderers in the Western world are using the Holbein stitch as a double running stitch, they, too, don’t follow the counted thread method. However, is that reason enough to forgo the tradition in Karnataka, is the question that I came away with.

No Borders, detail of Kasuti embroidery

I understand the anxiety that compels novelty instead of integrity and authenticity in creative expression but is this something that we should encourage and continue, rather than re-evaluate what direction one wishes to take hand crafting towards? We cannot go back to the way things were done in the past, but we can learn from them. Perhaps most significant is to understand and incorporate how the vital aspect that each technique, textile and methodology has evolved from: to identify its essence and give it a contemporary edge, rather than imposing ideas from across geographical and political borders or seeking attention with larger-than-life evocations.

Making with the hand is a fundamental human need that must be encouraged and the workshops, organised as part of the festival, did create this scope.

Working as an artist-craftsperson in the contemporary milieu, I empathize with the artists whose work one viewed. It is indeed a very difficult time to be heard and seen, and everyone is trying to find meaning, purpose and value. The works on display were indeed evocative of this, as well as the confusion and over-simulation that our age is grappling with. However, it is exhibitions such as the Serendipity Arts Festival which are spaces to view art and its concepts with a relatively detached perspective. In bringing together diverse practices and ideas, the festival provided scope for insights into current trends. Enabling one to appreciate and also to re-think the directions taken. Making with the hand is a fundamental human need that must be encouraged and the workshops, organised as part of the festival, did create this scope.

However, beyond this, purposefulness, which contributes to the community, adding beauty and integrity to the world we live in, as opposed to the narrower scope of individualism, is something we as humans need to reconsider. This is what some exhibits were trying to achieve. But perhaps it’s the dual role of concept and making—the traditional role of crafting and craftspeople, whether traditional or contemporary artists-craftspeople; reconsidering the marriage of hand and head and what it can contribute to make us and, therefore, our world a better place, is what one hopes will pave the way for the future.

About Gopika Nath

Gopika Nath is a textile artist-craftsman who stitches and writes, threading her syllables into poetry, creative non-fiction and art reviews. She began her career as a textile designer, providing designs for industry and gradually progressing to creating art made for wear. She has also worked with the Ministry of Textiles on craft projects in India. For the last three decades, Gopika has been pursuing her passion as a textile artist, where her art practice provides a mirror to the self. A Fulbright Scholar and alumnus of Central St. Martins School of Art and Design [UK], Gopika lives and works in Goa, India. Visit www.gopikanath.co.in

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