Last weekend I spent a day at my biannual haunt, the Paramparik Karigar exhibition. In these days of Amazon, ecommerce and direct sales via social media, I am constantly surprised by how a humble craft exhibition sees the throngs that this one sees. It is heartening indeed, to see that India still has an appetite for age-old, hand-crafted and handmade products. It is also so exciting to see that the crowds that throng here are such a mixed bag of simple, middle-class women as well as the well-heeled stylish set who drive in with their husbands to give them a lesson in interiors and arts.
Paramparik Karigar is among India’s premier pop-up spaces that goes from city to city promoting craft and textiles. It is a collective of weavers and artisans, nearly all of whom are the best from our villages and craft hubs, who come together to sell their wares. Many are recipients of national awards, even the Padma Shri. Imagine the finest arts of India—from Benaresis, Kanjeevarams and Jamdanis to ikats, Chanderis and Bhujodis to Ajrakh crafts, pichwais from Nathdwara, patta chitras from Odisha, Dokra metal sculptures from Chattisgarh, dhurries from Warangal and Mirzapur and Bagh from Madhya Pradesh (the list is several times longer than this)—all available under one roof. This season’s exhibition in Mumbai was at a quiet bylane in Juhu, overlooking the gorgeous Kaifi Azmi park.
The non-governmental organisation was formed by a small group of artisans who were poor and unhappy with middlemen taking a bulk of their income. They wanted direct access to customers. They went to craft advocate Roshan Kalapesi who, with the help of Kamladevi Chattopadhyay, founded Paramparik Karigar in 1996. The first Paramparik Karigar exhibition took place at the National Gallery of Modern Art in Mumbai, and was sponsored by the Aditya Birla group. Bowrings auction house even conducted an auction of some sculptures at the Taj Mahal hotel.
Kalamkari artist T. Mohan with a customer | Instagram@paramparikkarigar
In an earlier interview with this magazine, the current trustee Ratna Krishnakumar said: “The whole idea was that they are the ones who will decide everything. We have AGMs every year. People like us are associate members. We don’t have any voting rights. Only the craftsmen have voting rights. Any major change has to be cleared by them. We have to present the finances, auditing—everything—at the AGM.”
The wife of the late R.K. Krishna Kumar, a director at Tata Sons, she was instrumental in getting funds from Tata Trusts to run an office for three years. Soon enough the artisans agreed to give a share of their profits to run the office independently, paying for a venue and for advertising.
The exhibitions are really the best and easiest place to meet our world-class crafts people. Allaudin Ansari from Varanasi is now a friend, and you will often find me at his stall doubling up as a sales girl. Aziz Khatri of Khamir Crafts, the best weavers of the fully organic kala cotton of Kutch, says he has listened to all episodes of my podcast. Rambabu Chippa’s Bagru is now done on chanderi fabric as is Umar Farooq’s Bagh. T. Mohan is a brilliant kalamkari artist from Andhra Pradesh, whose large handmade pieces of wall art were sold out. I also discovered Mohammed Salim from Benares who has made mashru saris for Sanjay Garg’s Raw Mango.
Please remember these names, make them famous. These are probably more important names than our celebrity designers and artists.
Paramparik Karigar is definitely an anomaly, but the root of its success is a simple idea that well-made artisanal products can thrive with very little effort.
X@namratazakaria