Research in Jaipur

In the morning Alexander and I visited our first contact in Jaipur- Gitto, an ex-faculty member of NID who specializes in wood block printing. It took a half-hour for the rickshaw driver to find her workshop hidden behind the lush palms of a residential garden. We were greeted by a team of men dipping wooden blocks in pads of colored ink, and stamping them on long sheets of white cloth.

Behind them sat boxes of unused blocks stacked in marked boxes. The range of patterns was incredible! From intricate roses to clusters of ants to tiny cartoon dogs to Japanese-inspired clouds- it seemed as if there was a design for every possible market. Gitto took a break from her meeting with three Italian clients to give us a brief tour of the studio. When Alexander told her that he was particularly interested in leheria (an intricate wave pattern created by tying and dyeing thin material such as the silk and fine cotton used to make traditional Rajasthani turbans) she informed us that the best person to talk to had recently “expired.” Instead she provided us with the name of a sari shop owner who sells contemporary leheria pieces.

We spent an hour in the sari shop sipping chai and examining crude examples of leheria, all of which had been dyed in synthetic, neon colors. “Women want bright colors. Dusty colors do not sell,” the owner explained. “Rani- dark hot pink- sells best,” he said holding up a piece of translucent silk the color of fuchsias. The borders of the more expensive saris were decorated with intricate, sequin-studded, hand-stitched embroidery that glinted under the store’s fluorescent lights. Although our discussions about the contemporary Indian market were edifying, it was disappointing to see how much the quality of the craft has been comprised due to the cost of labor and the availability of natural dyes.

Next we visited the City Palace, next to which was our second contact in Jaipur- an antique textile dealer who collects Rajasthani turbans. We ogled over his impresive collection of rare specimens. The most expensive turban for sale cost $3,500 (the best ones are in his private collection and are not for sale) and was 120 years old! Despite its age, the colors remained vibrant and the cloth was in perfect condition. Before leaving the shop the owner gave us permission to photograph his collection if we ever returned to Jaipur. He also gave us our third contact in the city: Badshah Ahmed, a national award-winning leheria dyer who uses only natural dyes.

When we called Badshah the following day, he immediately sent his son to pick us up on his motorcycle. Alexander and I climbed aboard and gripped the bike for dear life. We swerved around large pigs, their swollen teats dragging in the dust. Curious bystanders stopped to gawk at the motorcycle carrying two foreigners. After we dismounted, a group of children ran to welcome us to their neighborhood.

Badshah’s son brought us inside where his father displayed several award winning pieces and talked about his craft. Next his son brought us to the rooftop terrace. We gazed upon a bustling neighborhood. Dozens of kites spiraled in the afternoon breeze. The son spent four hours teaching us how to make leheria, from rolling the cloth to tying the knots to boiling indigo dye. Our final products were less than impressive, but we purchased several of the son’s leheria silk pieces to add to our collection.