From 10th century Bayeux[i]
to 21st century Gurgaon is a very long journey. One I embarked upon
while researching embroidery practices that could have influenced my own. Jawaharlal
Nehru once said that India’s history could well be defined by the history of
Indian textiles. I think he was right. India’s textile diversity and heritage
is unsurpassed in the world, its history full of intriguing socio-political
implications. These amazing fabrics have been a source of admiration and
significant trade with ancient Greece up to present day exports. As a textile
artist, I draw upon them for inspiration, as much as focussing upon a concern
for the eroding value of crafting practices that gave us these superlative
textiles.
It’s been said that the hand inspires the ‘mechanical’
technologies invented. Whatever machines do is what the human hand has made
first. William Morris’s[ii]
lament and the ideologies of the arts and crafts movement[iii]
were based on loss of excellence in design owing to the inferior capacity of
machines, at the beginning of the industrial age. But, as technology improved
so did the product of machines, and today, in Japan many fabrics made with advanced
technologies possibly have no precedent with what the hand has done. Many such ideals
have been disproved in time but history enables one to unravel stories of what
people thought and did to examine their influence on what we do today.
It can be a fascinating journey is what I
realized in my quest to discover the cross-stitch connection in my art. Two
textile artist friends, Elaine from Boston and Maggie from Perth, strongly recommended
reading ‘The Subversive Stitch’ by Roszika Parker. I got a copy from Amazon.com
and commenced reading with much anticipation as soon as it arrived. But, I was
disappointed. There was little mention of cross-stitch and its inclusion in contemporary
stitch vocabulary. I was nonetheless intrigued how art history[iv]
had categorised everything that women are and do, as being “entirely and
essentially feminine” regardless of economic or social position, especially
with regard to embroidery.
Apparently, it was the Victorian[v]
interpretation of mediaeval[vi]
embroideries which led to this thinking. Mediaevalism permeated every
aspect of Victorian culture. Of particular interest were mid-century religious
revivals where embroideries for the church formed a significant part. This
created opportunity to chide women for their decadence, for having regressed
from embroidering devotional motifs to pretty flowers and more in the same
vein. Mediaeval revival[vii]
enhanced the Victorian perception
of women as the frail sex, untouched by intellect. But not without
contradictions: they, who were at the mercy of their physical weakness and
volatile feelings, were also meant to provide the spiritual face of their class
thus occupying a ‘higher’, ‘purer’ sphere than men.
This perception provided some misleading
interpretations of history. The legendary Bayeux tapestry[viii]
was cited as the work of a loving wife rather than the collective endeavour it
was. This 270 feet x 20 inches tapestry [circa 1086] was supposedly embroidered,
single-handedly by Queen Mathilda, wife of William the Conqueror[ix];
a herculean, if not impossible task. Thus Mathilda became a source of
inspiration and fantasy. Historians, including women, presented her as an ideal
for perfect Victorian femininity – working in private, for love. Her glory, a reflection
of her husband’s and reward coming after only death. The image of the mediaeval
noblewoman embroiderer became ossified into a stereotype: “Immured in the restricted walls of a convent; needle alone supplied an
unceasing source of amusement; with this she might enliven tedious hours, and
depicting heroic deeds of her absent lord...... softened by the influence of
pious contemplation, she might use this pliant instrument to bring vividly
before her mind the mysteries of that faith to which she clung”[x].
With years of colonialism and
influences thereby, there is a possibility these ideas could somehow have found
their way into the Indian cultural psyche, which got me thinking. In re-examining the reasons
why I choose to embroider, I wondered, whether somewhere deep in my
socio-cultural make-up, I was drawn to this because it’s been considered ‘women’s
work’. To the best of my knowledge it was men who did the embroidery work in
India, especially in the professional karkhanas[xi]
but, in the Western world, the embroiderer became part of the feminine
stereotype. Eyes lowered, head bent, shoulders hunched - characteristic posture
of a person sewing became symbolic of repression and subjugation. 
In addition, silence, as stillness of the
embroiderer, was interpreted as either serious concentration or a cry for attention. In terms of the stereo-type, the
self-containment of the sewing woman was interpreted as seductiveness, a sexual
ploy. In some cases the silence of a woman bent over her needlework was cited
as submissiveness or deference to men. And some interpretations also cite the
image of the embroiderer deep in her work as disturbing: “Bel-Gazou is silent when she sews, silent for hours on end, with her
mouth firmly closed ............She is silent, and she – why not write down the
word that frightens me – she is thinking”[xii]
My curiosity was stoked. This ‘historical’ power
of silence whilst engaged in embroidering intrigued me. That evening, I focused
on what I thought and felt while rummaging through colourful skeins, threading
the needle and piercing the cloth with it. For me, none of these ideas had a
conscious connection, nor made any sense. I love the coloured threads and
ritual of embroidery. I find pleasure in the whole process and could not relate
to this as being indicative of subjugation or the subversive rebellion Victorian’s
associated with the woman embroiderer. It did not seem to fit. Women do face sexual
discrimination in India, so it did occur to me that this could have become
second skin to an extent that, despite the socio-cultural implications of being
a woman in India, I was unaware of it.
Growing up in the 1960s and 1970s, one of three
sisters with no brother, I personally did not face discrimination in any overt
way. I know my parents wanted a son for my father had picked out a name, which
was eventually given to my elder sister’s youngest son. Since we did not have a
brother I cannot evaluate if we were treated different to men. My father was
determined that I learn to drive a car and also typing for he believed that the
future was all about computers, but we were not really educated with a career
in mind. My elder sister was married when she was twenty and so was I. It was
an unsuccessful ‘arranged’ marriage and divorce at 22 years of age that brought
a career into focus.
My mother was the only girl child of a not-so-conservative
Punjabi family living in Delhi, with three, protective, doting elder brothers
who rarely allowed her out of their sight. She did a B-Ed[xiii]
and taught briefly but chose not to work professionally after marriage. My
mother was born in 1932 and I, almost thirty years later. Times had changed, but
many things get passed on subconsciously. However, to my knowledge, my
predilection for embroidery could have little to do with this. Of us three
sisters, I was the only one who took to it from an early age. Maybe my Irish convent[xiv]
education inadvertently influenced this, but I do not recollect the nuns teaching
us needlework. Whatever discriminations one may face being a woman in this
country or in the world, it is neither this idea nor a rebellion to assert the
converse which inspires me to embroider. Aside from pleasure in working the materials,
it is the ritual of making - seeking to emulate ideals of hand-crafting, prevalent
in art practices of ancient India, which motivate me to ‘paint’ with the
needle.
Most professional embroidery done in this
country, even historically, is and has been done by men. I conducted workshops in
Kashmir in 2003 and 2004 for chain-stitch embroidery and the craftsmen were primarily
men. Women had recently been inducted but, lacking skill in the craft, their
work was gauche by comparison. The fine Sozni[xv]
workers are also men. Chain stitch or ‘Ari’ work, which is the mainstay
repertoire of most fashion designers in the country, is done almost exclusively
by men. But with Kantha[xvi],
Chikankari[xvii]
and other embroideries women do now work professionally too. 
The subcontinent has a rich history in
embroidery. Earliest needles excavated at Mohenjo Daro[xviii]
dated about 2000 BC indicate a tradition of sewing and the possibility of
embroidery. There are early references to the reign of Chandragupta Maurya[xix],
where Megasthenes[xx]
the Greek Ambassador from Seleucus[xxi]
describes richly embroidered interiors and shimmering dresses embellished with
gold. The earliest chain-stitch embroideries are said to have evolved from embroideries
done by the Mochi[xxii]
community in Gujarat and accounts by Marco Polo[xxiii]
mention exquisitely embroidered leather carpets. Later, the Portuguese traveller
Duarte Barbosa[xxiv]
makes note of fine chain-stitch silk embroideries in reference to the beautiful
quilts of Cambay[xxv].
According to noted textile historian Rosemary Crill, there are few societies in
which embroidery played as important a role as in India, be it our rural
tradition for dowry, wedding paraphernalia or the courts of Mughals and other
ruling elite. Embroidered textiles have adorned carved stone halls as well dressed
nobility. And a thriving trade made Indian textile products famous for two
millennia where embroidery was at the forefront of our rich textile tradition. 
Men, more than women, in ancient India embroidered
textiles and this prevails even today. The notions of femininity that
categorised the embroiderer in the Western world arose because it suited
Victorians to read history as such. They chose to highlight a specific role of
women in the practice of this craft, when men were as much a part of European embroidery
guilds and there was no significant division of labour either.
Through the long British rule in India ideas regarding
embroidery as essentially women’s work, along with its implications of
subjugation and subversion, must have percolated somewhere into urban Indian
thinking. I have been city bred through and through and cannot claim influence of
a rural Indian culture where women embroidered, making things for their home
and personal use. There is a possibility that the Victorian ideas, and their impact
on generations before me, could be buried somewhere deep in my subconscious
mind. However, working with embroidery for me, has been about a conscious return
to an ancient Indian tradition.
I draw inspiration from this tradition of
crafting which nourished the ‘whole being’ “Corpus anima et Spiritus.”[xxvi]
My embroidery is creative self-expression. Working with my hands is meditative.
The process engenders a balance of inner and outer worlds and is an important source
of solace. I have worked with craftsmen in rural India, where the simplicity of
their lives impacted me deeply. I also found that though their skill continues,
they are dependent upon urban designers for the creative input. This relegates
them to becoming merely skilled labour, moving away from the traditional, dual
role of the craftsperson as designer-producer. Their remuneration is pittance
compared to what those who employ their skills earn and also the income of other
professionals today. My endeavour is an attempt to restore a lost dignity to
the notion of crafting by becoming a craftsperson-artist myself. Presenting this
work in the art gallery is a means to bridge the prevalent art-craft divide which
not only diminishes the ‘art’ of textile making that framed an important
dimension of our cultural heritage, but one that could curtail the continuance of this inherited glory.
[i]
Normandy, France
[ii]
1834-1936
[iii] Design
movement pioneered by William Morris that
flourished 1860-1910, its influence continuing up until 1936
[iv] Research done in 1981
[v] Period
of Queen Victoria’s reign from 1837 – 1901 was a long period, of peace,
prosperity and national confidence [for the British]. Culturally there was an
inclination towards romanticism and mysticism with regard to religion, social
values and the acts. The Victorian era is also associated with values of social
and sexual restraint.
[vi] 5th
to 15th centuries [Middle Ages – end of Classical antiquity or
collapse of Western Roman Empire to beginning of Renaissance]
[vii]
Begun late 1830’s
[viii] Is an embroidered cloth not an actual
tapestry, which depicts events leading up to the Norman conquest of England,
culminating in the Battle of Hastings. It contains about 50 scenes embroidered
on linen with coloured woollen yarns.
[ix] Was
the first Norman King of England, reigning from 1066 till his death in 1087
[x]
Parker, The Subversive Stitch pg 24, [quoting from C. H Hartshorne, op.cit. p3]
[xi]
workshops
[xii]Parker,
the subversive Stitch pg 9-10 [quoting
from Colette, ‘Earthly
Paradise’ 1966 p.205]
[xiii]
Bachelors in Education
[xiv]
Loreto Convent, Tara Hall, Shimla
[xv]
Fine needle embroidery done mostly on shawls, Kashmir
[xvi] Traditionally
it is basically a running stitch embroidery [with some variations] on layered
fabrics [usually old and worn sarees] creating a quilted effect , done in Bihar
[Sujni] and Bengal [Kantha]
[xvii]
Chikan [derived from Persian word ‘Chikeen‘], literally means embroidery. It is a traditional embroidery style from
Lucknow in Uttar Pradesh and a variety of stitches [36] are used to create a
kind of Jaali [lace or shadow work] effect. It is usually done on transparent
or semi-transparent fabrics like muslin, mostly white on white.
[xviii]
Now in Pakistan
[xix]
320BC -298 BC
[xx]
Greek explorer and ethnographer of the Hellenistic period
[xxi]
Approximately sometime before his death
in 298 BC
[xxii]
cobblers
[xxiii]
Travels, late 13th Century
[xxiv]
1518
[xxv] Now called Khambat [Gujarat]
[xxvi]
Mind, body and spirit - Ananda K. Coomaraswamy
