bandhani | toothpicnations

A large bandhani piece we saw at Mr A A Wazir’s house

I think many people are familiar with the term ‘shibori’ which is the Japanese technique of resist dyeing on cloth. The word itself means ‘to wring, squeeze, press’, and it is a way of manipulating the fabric to achieve the desired results. However, this practice is not unqiue to Japan, and countries like China, Indonesia, Korea, and India have their versions too. In India, a tie-dyeing technique is commonly practised by artisans in Kutch, which is called bandhani or banghej. The term bandhani is derived from the Sanskrit word ‘bandh’ which means ‘to bind or to tie’.

Tiny dots are created by tying several points of a thin fabric (cotton or silk) tightly with a thread, which then would be dyed after the design is created. It is a time-consuming process esp. if you have a large piece of cloth or a complex design. This technique is closely associated with the pastoral Khatri community, which migrated from Sindh (now Pakistan) a few centuries ago. The patterns differ vastly between the Muslim Kkatris and the Hindu Khatris. The Muslim artisans prefer to use geometric designs inspired by the cosmos, whereas the Hindu artisans like to use plants, animals and human figures for their patterns. A bandhani sari (often featuring yellow dots on red fabric) is traditionally worn at Gujarati weddnings.

Traditionally, the practice is usually carried out at home by women or young girls, but we visited SIDR craft studio in Bhuj that specialises in this technique founded by two male artisans and brothers, Abduljabbar and Abdullah Khatri.

We were greeted by Abdullah at the studio, and he told us that the studio was established in 1992 in order to continue the family tradition of bandani. The studio received UNESCO Seal of Excellence in 2006 and 2007, and their international clientele continues to grow year on year.

The design process at SIDR craft is overseen by Abduljabbar, who uses traditional motifs and stencils are created to transfer the pattern to fabric: pure silk, cotton and cotton-silk blends. Over 200 independent women artisans in villages in Kutch are employed to tying thousands of tiny knots on the stenciled fabric to create a single scarf or shawl. The natural dyeing process, often is required in successive stages for a single piece, takes place at the studio.

We were all very impressed by the intricate design and painstaking process, and we loved the fact that no two scarves, stoles and shawls are exactly the same. It is also encouraging to learn that the studio is selling to overseas retailers and customers, which demonstrates that one-of-a-kind handcrafted accessories would never go out of fashion, and they have to be preserved for generations to come.

After my 10-day textiles workshop in Japan last year, I wanted to learn more about natural and indigo dyeing, so I did the Natural dyeing course for two terms at Morley College in London. The more I learnt about the subject, the more I realised that India had to be my next textile desintation. Despite wanting to visit India for years, it was textiles that made me set foot on Indian soil for the first time.

Since I had never visited India before, I was quite anxious about travelling alone, hence I decided to look for a group tour and workshop that focused on textiles. The task turned out to be harder than I imagined… many textiles-themed tours are either extremely pricey (and outrageously so), or the dates didn’t work for me, or they were already full. My original plan was to visit Rajasthan (like most first-timers), but somehow ended up spending more than three weeks in Kutch/Gujarat instead. Yet I had the most amazing time exploring this less-touristy region of India. I can also say that this region’s textiles are diverse and rich, which was an eye-opening experience for me.

As I was searching for a practical textiles course in India, I came across Somaiya Kala Vidya, an educational institute/NGO that supports local traditioanl artisans in Kutch founded by an American lady, Judy Frater. There wasn’t a great of info/review about the workshops for foreigners, but I contacted them anyway. Unlike other textiles workshops, the institute does not host regular workshops, so they would cater for each individual’s requests and invite the specialised artisan to the school to teach the workshop. Strictly speaking, the campus is not catered for foreign students and it lacks the proper facilities, but I thoroughly enjoyed my 5-day textiles workshop and learned a lot from the two wonderful Kutch artisans.

Due to limited time, I decided to focus on natural dyeing and bandhani (Indian tie-dyeing technique), though I was hoping that I could try Ajrakh block printing as well. Luckily, a week before my arrival, I found out that I would be joined by an American author who had traveled to India to do research for her forthcoming book on the history of textiles. She had requested to learn block printing, hence it meant that we could learn both techniques during the workshop.

Top right: myrobalan: botton left: pomegranite skin

Over the five days, we prepared dye baths with the following: walnut, madder, rhubarb, eupatorium (flowers), lac (extract from the scale insect Laccifer lacca), annatto (seeds of the achiote tree), marigold flowers and indigo. In order to prepare the dye, we had to let it simmer with water for at least one hour. Usually a mordant (a substance used to set the dyes on fabrics) is needed for natural dyeing (except for indigo), and alum (Aluminium sulfate) is the most commonly used. In India, however, an extra mordant is used and it is called myrobalan (Terminalia chebula), which is fruit of a deciduous tree that is native to S.Asia. The fruit is rich in tannin, and produces butter yellow colour, which is often used as a primary component for cotton dyeing in India. I have never come across this dye before, so I was very intrigued by it.

One of the joys of natural dyeing is that you can play around with the tie-dye technique by first dyeing the fabric in one colour, and then overdyeing part of the fabric in another dye to create overlapping patterns and colours. The possibiilities are endless, and it can bring some pleasant surprises.

Top: marigold flowers, 2nd row: annetto seeds

In Kutch, bandhani (meaning ‘to tie’) is a technique practiced by the Muslim and Hindu Khatri communities. It was brought to Kutch in the 16th century by craftsmen from Sindh (now Pakistan). Kutch is a well-known region for bandhani production, and you can often see women’s outfits featuring the tiny dotted patterns. Traditionally, Khatri women would do the tie-dye, while men would dye the fabrics (cotton/wool/silk) in natural dyes. Unfortunately, due to mass production these days, the cheaper textiles are synthetically dyed, and are causing much environmental damage.

After experimenting on cotton and silk fabrics in different dye baths, I decided to dye my final long silk scarf in natural indigo. Since the bandhani technique was too difficult to master in a few days, I used other shibori techniques (there were still a lot of stitching and pulling) and the piece was dyed about 6/7 times. I would have preferred it to be darker, but due to time constraint, it was just not feasible.

Indigo on silk

Ajrakh is a form of block printing on natural-dyed textiles that is also originated from Sindh. Historians believe that Ajrakh block printing’s orgins could be traced back to more than 4000 years ago. It is believed that the Khatri communities brought this skill/practice with them to Kutch around the 15th century. The cloth is usually dyed on both sides, and the complex and labour intensive process may involve up to 14 steps. It is traditionally dyed in indigo (blue) and madder or alizarin (red); while the patterns are often symmetrical with borders featuring five different patterns. As for the blocks, they are hand carved in teak wood by either the Khatri printers or sometimes block makers.

To be honest, I had underestimated the challenge of doing block printing before I tried it – it is much harder than it looks! Not only you have to line everything up precisely (especially it you are doing lines), it also hurts your hand whe you bang it onto the block over and over again. Full concentration is required during the process, and even though I am sure it would get easier with practice, it would still take a long time to master the skills (like most craft).

The whole pringing process is very complicated because of the application of resist paste (gum arabic and lime), alum and colours need to be in the right order. Thanks to the guidance and help from the blockprinting master (who also designed and carved the blocks), I managed to produce two long pieces, as well as a simple one with leaves that I found in the garden.

While we were busy working in the back courtyard, the two female cooks were also busy preparing daily breakfasts and lunches for us. It was really interesting to watch them cook and the homemade vegetarian meals were always delicious.

The 5-day workshop was quite intense, but I was satisfied with what I learned in such a short time and it gave me some basic understanding of Kutch’s textiles. I am also grateful to Judy, who is passionate and knowledgable about Indian textiles, and has generously dedicated her time and effort to support the local artisans. I hope that the Kutch artisans would benefit from the courses at the institute and continue to pass on their heritage and practice.