On the road in Jaipur we hared it through the busy congested streets.
This didn't seem fair.
We zoomed along passing many different forms of transport, including several elephants with Mahoots.
A passing view of Jaigarh (Victory) Fort, as we left Jaipur town and went into the quieter rural outskirts.
Our first view of the Amber Fort from the speeding rickshaw on the hillside about 11Km outside of Jaipur. The Fort was begun in 1592 by Maharajah Singh, the Rajput commander of Akbarr's army. It was later extended by the Jai Singhs before they moved to Jaipur. Amber, pronounced 'amer', means high.
Stunning views from the rickshaw...
Apparently inside the fort, in the tiny Kali temple, a goat was sacrificed everyday from the 16th century up until 1980, when it was banned. We insisted that our rickshaw driver continue, even though he was keen to drive us up to the gateway and wait-for an extra fee - naturally, but we forgo the Amber Fort and continued on our way through the baking heat and the fortunately much quieter roads...
The Anokhi Museum was situated in a village, just off the main road. We barely managed to squeeze down the narrow single track dirt roads in the rickshaw, whilst passing the tightly packed single storey concrete homes. The streets where maze-like. We were glad that we hadn't caught a bus and tried to make our own way from the main road.
The Anokhi Haveli was a bit of a surprise after the ram-shackled village. Empty for centuries, the Haveli lay in ruins until John Singh, a founder of Anokhi, purchased the property in 1989 and undertook the four year restoration project with local architects. Singh wanted to prove three key points in the restoration project, the first being that Havali's can be restored cost effectively, (I bet that took some persuasion), and importantly that employing traditional Indian building methods, implemented by specialist craftsmen, using local materials was the most viable way to restore a historic building. Importantly Singh believed that such projects could generate work for local craftsmen and create civic pride in Amber. In 2000 the project won the Anokhi museum a UNESCO award for cultural conservation.
Surprisingly, no formal design plans where used. The architects relied upon the inherent skill of the artisans whose ancestors tradition of oral instructions enabled them to reconstruct the building stone by stone. The ancient building, like many others we had visited, was constructed to allow any breeze to flow through the building to keep it cool. The walls were thick to protect the occupants against the heat of the Thar desert, where temperatures can climb to 48 degrees C.
In the restoration process we learnt that the craftsmen were encouraged to revisit the 'arraish' process, a lime based plaster finish forgotten for decades. They soaked 'kalli', or baked lime, with yogurt and crystallised sugar in earthenware jars for a year, changing the water daily. The lime base apparently adds a cooling element when applied to the floors.
Hand block printing onto cloth is a highly skilled craft originating in India and thought to have existed for over 4500 years. Production and use of block printed cloth is embedded in India's traditions. The embellishment of everyday functional textiles spans social hierarchies as both opulent courtly cloth and humble peasant attire.
The first pieces we fell in love with, before we had barely come through the door were Leheria-printed lengths of cotton, showing multiple mud-resist and indigo applications on this block printed fabric.
Indigo, synonymous with the colour blue, is one of the most widely used 'vat dyes' the world over for textiles. Traditionally extracted from the Nil plant (Indigofera tinctoria), most dyers today use synthetic indigo grains due to a paucity of regular supply and standardisation of quality.
The dye is first' reduced' (oxygen removed), by the addition of a strong alkali to the vat. Subsequently the fabric is submerged for a few minutes, with gentle stirring to ensure even absorption. On removal, oxygen is reintroduced to the dye, visibly turning the fresh glistening green fabric into indigo blue. Deeper shades of blue are achieved by increasing the number of dips and airings the fabric is given.
A feature of the region's textiles is the use of the mud-resist (dabu) technique to protect areas of the fabric surface from the indigo dye. The dabu is a local clay-rich earth, mixed with wheat flour, tree gum and lime to a smooth paste. Applied with wood blocks before the fabric is immersed in indigo, with skilful preparation a dabu can withstand up to 4 or 5 dips into the harsh alkaline of the vat. After each dip and airing more dabu patterning can be applied giving a full range of blue shades. Shades of green are achieved by over-dying blue fabric in boiling yellow solution of pomegranate rind and turmeric.
A reflection of the Wiji, taking a break sat in the cool internal chowk at the beginning of our visit. I was marvelling at the Leheria- printed length, with multiple mud resists and natural dyes of indigo, pomegranate and turmeric, block printed on cotton.
A design inspired by the plant Rubia Cordifloria, local name: Madder, Manjeet, Manjista. The is a climbing plant with heart shaped leaves and black berries which grows across Northern India and the Himalayan regions. The roots and stems have been used for centuries in India as an Ayurvedic medicine, and to dye cotton shades of red, orange and purple.
A beautiful cotton quilted coat and a silk dress.
Below are some examples of Kassis printing, which involves the use of a dye and a resist. The characteristics of this dye is a full range of grey, khaki and brown shades. Kassis is a mineral produced from iron deposits (ferrous sulphate) and works like a vat dye. It has been known to be produced in certain areas of the region where the water is mineral enriched.
Patterning can be achieved with the use of the dabu as kassis is a cold vat dye. Over dyeing with indigo can give an additional range of grey tones. It can be used as an over dye to further increase the number of shades possible with natural dyes.
The use of Kassis dye is more prevalent in Bagru. Printers use harda (naturally occurring tannic acid) as a pretreatment to achieve lighter shades of brown. Darker shades are acquired by the addition of boiled pomegranate rind to the vat solution, prior to dyeing.
Bagru, now a town on the Ajmer highway out of Jaipur has a long tradition of block printing by hand on cotton fabric. In the past these prints were essentially used by the local community. Colour and motif often denoted caste, community and marital status.
These prints traditionally were combinations of deep red, iron black, and yellow, with a mud resist used to conserve areas of white ground. Patterns of geometrical forms along with floral and animal and bird motifs were adopted.
Even though the traditional printing processes of bleaching, resist and colour printing and dyeing have continued, many of the natural ingredients have been substituted with chemicals, though some craftsmen still use the original methods. Despite the simplicity of the motif and the limited colour palette, the earthly quality of Bagru prints continues to be appealing.
Above, a Fadat printed length of cotton fabric, with the Ankhada (nose-ring) design, traditional for Bagru ghaggra skirts. Natural dyes. The traditional use of Bagru fabric was often for fadats and lugdis for ghaghara, dopatta or angocha (shoulder cloth) and jajams and bichhaunis (floor coverings).
An Angarakha-quilt cotton jacket with traditional Sanganer gobi print on the border, all block printed with chemical dyes. C 1971.
A gorgeous cotton dress, that I would love to wear. Block printed with a traditional Sanganer motiff, using natural dyes. C 1979.
A nice 70's advert for the hippy look...
These outfits and the way they are worn in this photo fondly reminded me of my Mum when I was little and all her lovely block printed Indian wrap skirts that I seeing her wear, then later borrowing to wear myself.
The centre of the British textile industry developed in the North, around Lancashire and Yorkshire. Cotton was imported from India to the docks on the Manchester ship canal. Factories packed with mechanised weaving looms reeled out thousands of meters of cotton, which was printed with the new roller system.
The designs of these early roller printed textiles still sought to mimic the flowing lines and organic forms of the handmade textiles collected from the East. The influence of the Indian craftsman is evidenced even in the more contemporary European textile designs produced throughout the 18th and 19th centuries. As the bulk of the trade routes became freer during the British Colonial rule in India, these mass produced printed cottons began to trickle back into Indian markets, having the same effect of desirable 'foreign-ness', as the Indian hand block prints had in Europe a few centuries before.
Despite the obvious negative influences of the roller printing and mechanisation on the Indian block printers, it is a testament to the ancient craft that inspiration for both design and engineering were, and continue today to be, largely based on the skills of the Indian craftsmen.
Gold and silver printing tools, including mallets and stencils, roghan paste, metallic powder and dust pad.
Naphthol printing chemicals, now banned, were developed and patented in 1911. They represent the single largest group of Azo dyes and pigments. Originally used for dyeing cotton, they were soon developed as textile printing pigments and artists' colour's in the 1920's.
Naphthol dyes use hazardous chemicals and are therefore much less desirable for large scale commercial use. Several countries have deemed them too hazardous to be used on textiles coming into contact with the body. They are harmful to people who have prolonged exposure to dyes during processing and are known to contribute to environmental contamination through chemical effluence.
The attraction with Naphthol printing was the wide range of bright and deep colours that could be achieved. Despite the increasing awareness of the associated health and environmental risks, these dyes are still used due to the range of colours possible. Many of the gaudy printed textiles available in the marketplace were likely to be Naphthol prints...good to know!
Some pigeon free cloak rooms.
A contemporary collection of block printed fabric patterns and structured garments was in the middle of the museum and designated to the costumes created by Leon Bakst (1866-1924), a Belarusian painter and stage designer.
He began his professional life as a copyist and illustrator, but quickly moved onto illustration of popular travel magazines. He travelled to various countries in Europe and North Africa. His greatest artistic success was in the theatre where he produced designs for stage productions such as the Hermitage, Alexandrinksy and the Maryinsky theaters. This was one example of his costumes for the stage, showing many influences from his travels.
Upstairs in an airy and shades roof top chowk, Mr was happy to talk to us and demonstrate the process of making printing blocks in wood and brass. Below he is using one of several small metal traditional tools with which he carefully taps out sections of the wood to reveal the design that he has traced in reverse.
A selection of his wooden printing blocks, called buntas or buntis. There are made from well seasoned Sisam wood. Circular cross sections of trunk, free from knots or imperfections, are planed and sanded to a smooth finish, then painted white with chalk, before the design is traced on and the carving begun. He told us that they can take upwards of three to five days to complete depending on the detail.
Each wooden block is hand stamped over 1000 times to create a length of printed cloth. Each extra colour in the design requires a separate block to be carved, creating a more complex and expensive product.
Here Mr....... demonstrated for us how he transferred the design by finely tapping out the outline of the design onto the wood.
In pre-independent India, many of the royal courts supported communities of highly skilled craftsmen through patronage. Textiles would also be donated to the courts in lieu of taxes.
I was invited to observe the carving process closely...
A set of two brass rekh blocks, one completed and one part made with the pankhi pattern created with brass strips. For particularly intricate designs brass strips are used as an alternative to wood. The metal edges achieve a crisp and even print line. The block maker manipulates thin strips of brass, beating them into the surface of the wood, following the lines of the design. Brass block making is lengthy and a specialist craft practised by a few. It is up to more than four times more costly than a wood block, but the block's extended life and the quality of the print can justify the expense.
There does seem to be one for everybody, fortunately.
Several cabinets of carving tools that we felt Ben would be particularly interested in.
Block printing is crafted by several communities working together- Chhippa printers, Rangrez and Nilgar dyers, Dhobi washermen and skilled wood carvers. In the villages of Rajasthan and Gujarat each printer developed his own set of distinctive designs, colours and motifs. The complexity of the designs became unique to particular communities.
Above, the woven roof, large canvas covered printing tables were set up to print big runs of fabric. A perfect place for it to dry.
Mr was proud to show us around and give us some of his time. We sent him some photographs as a thank you. I really hope that he received them.
On the roof terrace we got a closer look at the woven construction covering the internal courtyard below. Its construction looked very heavy duty and we could see how it provided a wonderful balance of light and shade.
Looking to the hillside with its walled fortress running along the top.
A view from the roof across the village to the Amber Fort.
Today, other than Anokhi, there is nowhere open to the public that can provide information, or show the best of hand block printing within Jaipur, Sanganer or Bagru, except in private collections. More worrying is the fact that craftspersons associated with this craft have nowhere to see and learn about the former highs of their tradition and the possibilities for its contemporary application and innovation.
Looking down into the Chowk, or courtyard below.
Looking over the walls of the Haveli, a bit of grooming going on below...
We can seeeee yoooou, with your super long limbs!
And then looking to the side we realised that we were surrounded!
Having a break from the Thar desert temps, a pidgie in a mini cloak room.
Having had a fantastic visit at the museum we found our rickshaw man waiting outside in the shade and thanked him before setting back on the road to Jaipur...
Stuck in traffic.
Passing through part of the Amber Fort.
Another elephant on the road being rudely overtaken by a rickshaw...
It was on the way back that we asked to stop to take a pic of this floating, but didn't manage to figure out its name.
Just as I turned around to take another pic of the action on the opposite side of the road the rickshaw man had driven off with Wiji and left me standing in the road - LOL. Wiji had to shout at him to get him to stop as he didn't realise that I hadn't got back in, meanwhile I was pegging it up the road after them, much to the amazement of some locals - quality.
A colourful display by the roadside.
Back in Jaipur we went to the flashily named four seasons for lunch and a bit of a chin wag about the museum. We had a super-deluxe thali with pickled onions on the side too. We were surrounded by Indian businessmen having power lunches. Look how Wiji blends in seamlessly!
A really interesting and inspiring day!
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