What does khadi mean to 21st century India?

Handspun textiles swing down from the ceiling ranging from coarse to fine in texture, a carousel of khadi saris sway as the crowd meanders their way through, while others are draped over bamboo frames creating voluptuous waves of whites and creams interspersed with a turmeric yellow or two, delicately highlighted with deep and pastel shades of indigo. To see fabrics and saris made about two decades ago, while drawing from thousands of old tradition and craft come to life is informative, yes, but also tactile and lyrical almost, in their form—and offers not just a celebration of this heritage, but a moment of consideration. A consideration of whether the handspun and handwoven can go beyond the Gandhi-khadi narrative we know so well or the politicised spiel that seems to have overrun this sector, and progress into the materiality of these textiles. But most of all it begs the big question—what does khadi mean to 21st century India?

A living archive

Meanings, Metaphor: Handspun and Handwoven in the 21st Century presented by Ahalya Mathan’s The Registry of Sarees and curated by Mayank Mansingh Kaul, was exhibited in Coimbatore’s 100-year-old Laksmi Mills, over a week of intense show and tell on all things khadi. The exhibit is a contemporary iteration of textile legend Martand Singh’s (Mapu) Khadi: The Fabric of Freedom developed and made in collaboration with Rahul Jain, Rta Kapur Chisti and Rakesh Thakore. The exhibition was conceptualised and developed between 2000-01, with 108 khadi saris designed by Thakore and 108 cotton fabrics sourced from across India (from handloom centres producing hand-spun yarn as well as those made with the semi-mechanised ambar charkha), both presented alongside the other, and travelled to Delhi, Mumbai, Bangalore and Kolkata. It is still remembered as one of the great exhibits of our time, photographer Dayanita Singh says, “The show that Mapu did in 2001 is probably one of our finest contemporary art shows ever, only at that time we did not think of it as art.”

“The collection was much like a design school project. It was conceived within two or three parameters—the only two hand intensive processes of embellishment or design you see predominantly is jamdani which is hand inlay more popular in Bengal but also used in Andhra Pradesh. And the three-shuttle technique that is common from Bengal to Tamil Nadu,” adds Kaul. The original collection was 216 textiles, commissioned in sets of two. “You could touch the entire first collection, so a lot of it has been destroyed,” says Kaul.

Now under the custodianship of Bengaluru-based The Registry of Saris, the collection is not locked up behind climate-controlled glass walls but is to be encountered and reinterpreted two decades on in more exhibitions like the one in Coimbatore, with careful preservation processes in place, of course. As we walk through the exhibit, designer Thakore urges viewers to, “Take it all in, touch them. Feel the selvedge, the woven muga, the texture of red khadi…” he says. Of course, the sensuality of the textiles destroys the fourth wall, creating a living archive and heritage that is immediately tangible, but more importantly relevant. And khadi becomes a functional sophisticated resource to innovate with, Kaul explains, “Let’s take for instance, the 54 of the 108 textiles from the thickest cotton counts to the finest. They address everything from denim to twill, and fabric for furnishing to the finest khadi that is largely used for fashion. So, what you get to experience is the entire gamut of how khadi lends itself to various industries and uses.”

Let’s talk shop

The language of the loom is also unique in its ability to cut through from weavers to designers, and between the textile, fashion, art, handloom, luxury, retail industries, and yet this sort of cross-dialogue has remained rather siloed within the country—and their mission seems to be to further this exchange around khadi. And parts of the collection have already begun to travel. Last summer, a selection from the collection was exhibited in Japan where it was presented by legendary designer Issey Miyake (a long-time collaborator of Martand Singh). And later in the year, the iteration of the collection was exhibited at a landmark conference in the weaver’s town of Chirala in Andhra Pradesh, attended by over 4,000 master weavers from across the country. “The questions I want to put out there through Meanings, Metaphors are basic—Can we look at new vocabularies for khadi? Can we look at hand spinning and weaving as a larger resource? What does khadi mean to 21st century India?—I’m trying to suggest this provocation, that is it time for us to reclaim the idea of hand-spinning?” says Kaul.

And while it is not in the scope of this exhibition to answer all these questions, it does become a catalyst in re-starting this over two-decade-old conversation on the handspun and handwoven, but within the fresh context of today. It also sees the handover of a part of Martand Singh’s legacy, where between Mathan’s Registry of Saris and Kaul’s curatorial direction, the next generation takes on an inherited conversation, but is shaping it to suit the right now. Signalling that it’s time for khadi to take its place as a 21st century handmade resource—think khadi in the age of angel investors, social media, intelligent luxury and climate change.