Voices Pushpesh Pant Ravi Shankar Devdutt Pattanaik Preeti Shenoy Dinesh Singh Swami Sukhabodhananda THE new sunday express MAGAZINE Buffet People Wellness Books Food Art & Culture Entertainment april 6 2025 SUNDAY PAGES 12 The Revivalists Unknown custodians of India’s vanishing crafts are preserving centuries-old traditions through artistry and dedication. Using nimble fingers and unwavering commitment, these crafts may yet find their place in tomorrow’s world, carrying with them the stories, skills, and soul of a civilisation I By Veidehi Gite Chola Wax Art of Swamimalai Tamil Nadu n the shadow of India’s soaring skyscrapers and humming factories, a quiet revolution is taking root. Far from the technology parks and shopping malls that have come to define modern India, masterful hands continue to weave stories into silk, coax life from clay, and transform metal into heirlooms. They are The Revivalists—a determined coalition of master craftspeople, visionary designers, and cultural guardians who stand as the last line of defence of traditions that have defined the subcontinent for centuries. As mass production threatens to erase what machines cannot replicate—the human touch—these custodians of craft have made it their mission to ensure that skills passed down through countless generations don’t vanish in the span of just one. Their workshops have become zeitgeist battlegrounds where heritage fights for its survival, and their tools—from looms to hammers—are weapons against cultural amnesia. In a world rapidly embracing mass production and digital alternatives, The Revivalists stand as vital bridges between India’s rich cultural heritage and its uncertain future. These dedicated artisans and custodians of craft, who navigate the delicate balance between authenticity and adaptation, remind us that true sustainability lies not in abandoning the old ways, but in recognising their enduring relevance in our modern lives. This is their story. Waxing Eloquent T wenty minutes from Kumbakonam lies Swamimalai, a remote village where nearly 90 per cent of its residents are engaged in Chola wax casting—an ancient craft dating back to the Chola dynasty—also known as Chola Bronze. The traditional handcrafting technique has remained unchanged for millennia. These panchaloha idols are created by pouring various metals into carefully prepared casts. At Shri Rajan Industries along the Swamimalai road, the front yard displays numerous bronze statues, with Nataraja figures being the most prominent—a speciality of the region. In the backyard workshop, skilled artisans chisel new pieces using traditional hand tools. “We make one mould for one piece. Every piece is unique,” explains General Manager Suresh Rajan. “Even our largest pieces are single casts—a tradition dating back more than 1,000 years,” he adds. What makes this craft remarkable is its environmental footprint. “We don’t use machinery or electricity Rajan says. ,” Senior artist Prabhakar demonstrates the meticulous process, beginning with a mixture of honey beeswax and tree resin. “Beeswax alone is too soft. The resin helps the mould harden within seconds,” he explains while shaping a small Parvati hand. The artisans then coat the wax model with special clay from the Cauvery River—its natural salt content makes it ideal for this purpose. After sun-drying, the mould is heated at an angle, allowing the wax to melt away hence ‘lost wax’. , Once cooled, the mould is broken, revealing a unique bronze piece that can never be exactly replicated. Rajan, who runs an academy teaching this technique, emphasises, “This craft takes almost seven years to master, sometimes longer.” A single large piece can require up to a year to complete, with prices ranging from `2,000 to over `2 lakh. Prabhakar with a lost wax figurine The Process Artisans first create a detailed wax model using beeswax, resin, and groundnut oil, capturing fine details like fingernails and jewellery. The model is coated with layers of clay, starting with a mix of alluvial soil, paddy husk, and cow dung, followed by clay and sand for strength. Once the mould dries, it is heated to melt the wax, leaving a hollow cavity. An alloy of five metals—copper, zinc, tin, silver, and gold (panchaloha)—is melted at around 1400C and poured into the mould. After cooling, the mould is broken, and the sculpture is refined by chiselling, filing, and polishing. The final bronze statues often show a rich dark brown or greenish patina, reflecting the alloy’s composition and natural oxidation. Sagar Naik Mule working on a clay sculpture Kaavi Art Goa Cast in Clay I n the artistic enclave of Adpai village in Ponda, North Goa, Sagar Naik Mule carries forward a centuries-old legacy of craftsmanship. Kaavi stands out for its unique technique and deep-rooted cultural significance. “Kaav means red clay explains Mule. “I ,” belong to an artists’ village—Kalakaransa, as we call it locally he says. Historically this ,” , region was known for its wooden boat-building traditions, a craft that predates Portuguese colonisation. “Craftsmanship and draftsmanship flourished here, passed down through generations. That's how I became aware of art. In the old days, people in Goa used to build homes, walls, and stoves with clay During festivals, a fresh layer of clay would be . applied to walls, and this practice evolved into an art form,” he says. Kaavi murals, which date back nearly 700 years, were originally used in temple architecture—beautifying borders, ceilings, and mandala patterns. The art involves engraving intricate designs into layers of white lime plaster applied over a red clay base. “Seashells were abundant in Goa, so people would burn them to create wall putty mixing , it with jaggery and sand. Once polished, it turned white, and artisans would carve designs with metal tools, giving the murals an embossed effect,” Mule explains. When the Portuguese arrived, they recognised the artistic brilliance of Kaavi and began incorporating it into church interiors. “They renamed it ‘Bhata Bhati’ in Konkani,” says Mule. However, the art form required extensive labour and costly materials, which led to its decline over the past 150 years. “The repetitive stencil work and time-consuming process meant it never gained widespread promotion,” he says. Determined to revive this lost tradition, Mule embarked on an artistic journey with no formal guidance. PM Narendra Modi highlighted his work in Mann Ki Baat in 2021. Following this, the Goa Board incorporated it into history textbooks to promote its revival and preservation. The Process It begins with the preparation of a lime plaster base, made by mixing lime, derived from burning seashells, washed river sand, and jaggery. This mixture is allowed to ferment for two weeks, resulting in a smooth, homogeneous substance that hardens upon application. Once the base is prepared, a layer of lime and red laterite soil is applied to the wet walls using a steel trowel. After about an hour, artists begin etching intricate geometric patterns and motifs onto the surface, using tools such as rulers, compasses, and steel bodkins, exposing the white plaster beneath. As the artwork dries, it is periodically sprayed with water and polished with smooth river pebbles over several days to prevent cracking and ensure its durability. The art itself is typically monochromatic, using red from the laterite soil and white from the natural plaster. Chettinad Athangudi Tiles Tamil Nadu Patterns of Glory I n pastoral Athangudi, where time slows beneath the scorching Tamil Nadu sun, a vanishing craft still flourishes under tin roofs. Here at the Loganayaki Ambal tile factory near the historic Athangudi Palace, , Muthugaman and his wife Devi labour from dawn until dusk, their skilled hands preserving an environmental marvel that few outside Sivaganga district recognise: Athangudi tiles. While Muthugaman meticulously makes each tile—pressing, pouring, and polishing them with practised precision, Devi is his equal partner in effort. Their synchronised movements are evidence of decades of shared craftsmanship. “For close to two centuries, the Chettiyar community has been handmaking Athangudi tiles, after they were imported them from Japan in the early 18th century says RM ,” Venkateshnan, owner of Loganayaki Ambal Tile factory . Originally during the royal Tamil era, artisans used silk and natural dyes , derived from vegetables and limestone. Later, glass became the preferred medium. With precision, Muthugaman pours colourful oxides into designated sections. “ Athangudi sand is unique. Lacking riverbed sand, we source it from nearby forests. Its high laterite content keeps the tiles glossy , even after years of wear,” he explains. Strict mining regulations mean sand is transported to factories in bullock carts, adding to the challenge. “We can only produce up to 200 tiles daily using basic tools. The entire process—from sourcing raw materials to a finished tile—takes up to 30 days,” he says. Unlike conventional tiles that undergo high-temperature firing, Athangudi tiles are sun-dried, making them an eco-friendly alternative with minimal environmental impact. Currently only 50 villages in , Chettinad continue the traditional craft. “These tiles have health benefits,” claims Devi as she holds a colourful ‘Kannadi Poo-Kai’ patterned tile in her hand. “Since they are repeatedly soaked and dried, water evaporates quickly preventing dampness and structural damage,” she points out. , Devi working on a tile The Process Athangudi tile making begins with sieving and grinding local sand and clay, then mixing them with cement and water. A glass slab forms the base, with a wooden frame and metal stencil shaping the design. Coloured oxides are carefully poured into the pattern, followed by layers of dry and wet mortar. After drying overnight, the tiles are submerged in water to cure, then sun-dried, allowing the glass base to detach naturally, revealing a glossy finish. Their colour palette—featuring red, green, blue, mustard yellow, and grey—complements geometric and floral motifs, often inspired by Victorian designs. Turn to page 2