Two birds cheep in the background as Madhusudhan, Sanatan, Jayanti and troupe break into soul-stirring Baul music. Among the audience are five playful mongrels. The singers address them too — after all, their philosophy emphasises love for all beings.
Nearby, a group of Purulia chhau dancers is getting ready for an energetic performance. Shoppers buzz about the more than hundred stalls, each featuring an eclectic range of handicrafts and handlooms.
And, overseeing all of them with pride is Jaya Jaitly, founder of the Dastkari Haat Samiti that has organised the annual crafts bazaar.
Dusk threatens to come calling any minute, and Jaya, clad in a black and off-white Kota cotton sari, sits at the Samiti stall, fanning herself with a bright effervescent pink palmfrond fan. She walks around the bazaar at least thrice a day. MetroPlus joins her on one of them.
Each of the stalls has been hand-picked to provide shoppers a holistic experience reflective of the country’s rich craft traditions. And, each of them has been heard, their crafts experienced. We begin with the Baul singers. “We tend to separate crafts from other arts and culture… but, every plate that you eat of, a leaf cup, or an instrument such as the ektara, are all made by the hand. Very often by the musicians themselves, or people from their community who have a ear for music. It is important to give them a platform where their craft is appreciated and celebrated. I’ve been trying for long for stronger linkages in craft,” says Jaya, as Madhusudhan’s voice fills the air with a song steeped in devotion and yearning.
A few months ago, the Samiti organised a workshop in photography for artists, so that they could present their work better. “They now know lighting, placing of objects... that if shooting a kettle, it is important to place a cup of tea next to it,” she says.
Proof of this is seen in the stall selling blocks bearing varied flora and fauna and geometric patterns — there’s a chart paper sporting the unique prints they’ve created.
Our first stop is Naresh Kumar’s store. He’s from Delhi and has brought in a range of hand-made, block-printed paper products.
“He worked with us on our Akshara project where we focussed on scripts. He’s made hand-bound books, and we’ve worked together to tweak little things to make the products better.”
The next stop is at the stall manned by Seshadev Sahu and Prashant Kumar, who represent Collective Craft from Odisha.
“Seshadev’s a stone carver, and he’s brought lovely dishes and earrings. Prashant has given new life to patachitra, sketching on boxes and articles that find a place in our everyday lives. Tradition can continue only if you contemporarise. What is contemporary today, becomes tradition 200 years later. But, artisans have to bring their traditional craft with them. They must never lose their craft identity,” she says.
The are stalls from Sri Lanka too, and K. Piyal Nishantha from Kimbissa, Sigiriya, stocks masks that are hand-made and hand-painted using natural dyes. “My friend and I, we go to the forest and pluck these blue fruits called pada . They lend a vibrant blue, but once dry, take on a vintage look. And, we are here as craftsmen, not businessmen,” he smiles.
Jaya steps in to speak about the work Indian and Sri Lankan craftspeople are doing as a team — “the Lankans teach us their strengths, and we share ours.”
Nearby, in a stall dealing with wooden artefacts, an artist shows us the result of Senaka De Silva’s design intervention — he’s taught them how to make a wooden elephant look like it is made of brass, with shading techniques. Apindra Swain from Odisha has learnt to paint just one half of an elephant with intricate work, and leave the other side stark but for a single daub of paint. “It’s interesting, quirky and is a nice design experiment,” says Jaya.
Likewise, the wood painters of Benaras are to soon embark on a mobile art project, where they will paint on ergonomically-designed cycle rickshaws — better business for them, and more comfort for the rickshawallahs.
Next up is the “broom family”. They’ve come to the fair for the second time, after a long gap. The first time around, they sold their entire stock in three days and left, and the Samiti could not locate them for years. “They’ve experimented with their traditional craft. Their mini brooms can help you clean even keyboards. They work with date palm fronds,” she says.
Meena Khadse has been creating showpieces since she can remember. The family lives in Bhopal and heads to the jungle to collect the fronds.
We take a look at stores dealing with khadi linen from Bengal, leather footwear, and a very interesting display of metal insects by an artist from Tonk in Rajasthan. “My father Hanuman started working on these, and I’ve continued his craft,” says Arjun Singh, 20. He takes about 30 minutes to work on an insect, made of brass, copper and iron.
The birdcall is getting louder, and we finally understand why. Bhaira Ram from Pokhran is at work. It’s his terracotta birds that are cheeping. Just blow on them, and you hear a whistle. Pour in some water, and it turns into a bird call. Sometimes, Bhaira walks to the nearby forests and calls out to the birds. Do they respond? “ Zaroor ,” he smiles.
