‘WE don’t like this education because we don’t know it!’ That was the puzzling refrain when Kala Raksha began its education programme in 1997. I tried to explain that this was precisely the reason for the classes, but the explanation made no sense to the embroidery artisans. ‘Education’ meant memorizing k kh g gh and the women just could not remember the letters. ‘Apna vishay nathi’, they informed us. ‘Learning for Earning’, a Jiva Institute programme for teaching time and money management was felt more useful. We restructured our programme to weekly sessions focused on accounting, communication, environmental awareness, and an array of preventive health care issues. The women enjoyed these opportunities to discuss, though they did not consider this ‘education’. Whichever way they looked at it, these practical artisans calculated the hour or two in class as time not spent in gainful activity.

Our education programme taught us several important lessons: First, the importance of relevance; second, the motivation of authenticity. The greatest successes were hands-on. When the artisans learned how to market, knowing that it would be tested in an actual exhibition, or competed to become an author of their own book, they were fully engaged.

Even as we struggled to raise the level of education among village artisans, we began to articulate broader, more critical issues affecting the craft sector of India today.

In the last few decades traditional crafts have undergone tremendous change. As villagers seek out mass-produced functional wares, artisans are forced to leave this intimately known local market and seek sales in anonymous distant markets. They struggle to earn wages, often lower than those for manual labour, and their social status remains sadly low.

With the shift in consumers, market-driven professional design has emerged as an essential entity separate from the production of craft. And the conventional solution to the artisan’s struggle is ‘design intervention’ in which a professionally trained designer gives artisans new concepts for new markets. Unfortunately, this is a quick fix. Introduced design does not generally raise the income or social status of the artisan. In fact, it often reduces her/him to a labourer and exacerbates the problem. Moreover, the top down solution to design innovation may dilute or diffuse the essence and strength of traditions, the unique qualities which can enable artisans to survive in an increasingly commoditized world.

Two needs were articulated: the need to provide education relevant to rural artisans, and the need to revitalize traditions in terms of new markets. One solution emerged: design education specifically developed for traditional artisans.

 

Recognizing the creative capability of artisans, it seemed practical to educate traditional artisans in design. Further, in terms of the survival of craft traditions, it seemed a sustainable solution. Ultimately, artisans must be capable of addressing their own issues.

With support from the Ashoka Foundation, the Development Commissioner (Handicrafts), Unesco, and private donors, Kala Raksha embarked on a challenging and exciting project establishing Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya, an Institution of Design for Traditional Artisans.

The vision of the Vidhyalaya is to develop a new approach to design education based on existing traditions. One important activity is to discover, articulate and utilize the existing systems of knowledge, skills, design and innovation. The focus of the institute is on acquiring knowledge and skills that will enable artisans to use design effectively in order to successfully reach appropriate new markets, while at the same time strengthening traditional identity. Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya intends to enable artisans to significantly improve their standard of living – socio-culturally as well as economically, to increase artisans’ confidence in knowing what they know, and to raise the value of crafts.

It is often hard to convey to the casual listener that the Vidhyalaya does not provide vocational training. With the separation of design and craft, craft has come to be seen in terms of technical skills. Concentration on technique has led to loss of vibrant diversity and resulted in a focus on labour. The only way for an artisan to earn more is to work more.

Concept, however, is equally critical to defining regional and community styles of craft. Realizing that artisans as well as consumers need to understand a more sophisticated equation, in which aesthetic rather than square inches of work is valued, Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya intends to educate artisans to strengthen the conceptual basis of their traditions in order to ultimately enable higher returns for effort. The difference between training and education, in the words of one KRV faculty member is: ‘Conducting a workshop is dictating; teaching a class is getting the students to think!’

 

We developed the course structure and content of Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya keeping the strengths and constraints of artisans in mind, and with the guidance of a board of master artisan advisors. The curriculum was designed to be practically relevant, carried out using the craft studios on campus, and in the vernacular language. The year long course was structured as five intensive two week sessions taught by visiting faculty, between which the students would return to their homes and carry out projects which utilize existing skills, and support and contribute to, rather than compete with, their ongoing work. Finally, evaluation was envisioned as an authentic and direct marketing link.

In November 2005, Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya opened its doors on our tranquil rural campus in Tunda Vandh. Twenty-eight artisans joined the course; twenty-five completed the year, studying in two groups: men of block printing, weaving and bandhani traditions, and Rabari women embroiderers. In this pilot year, Kala Raksha, our students, our artisan advisors, and our faculty all learned much about design in traditional craft.

 

The journey of design education: Section 1, the men students, arrived from their various villages carrying their clothing and tools. They would stay on campus for the two week course. They ranged in age from 17 to 32 and brought with them a variety of experiences in professional work. Some did job work for other businesses or NGOs; a few had their own family businesses. Many had limited direct contact with clients, and some had never travelled outside Kutch. Most could read and write in Gujarati.

The first class – ‘Colour, Basic Design, Sourcing from Nature and Heritage’, came as a great surprise. As Khimjibhai recalls, ‘I had no clue we’d actually learn designing. I thought a designer would tell me what to do, and I’d do it.’ They enjoyed the design process of observing, exploring, developing a concept, making theme and colour boards, and creating layouts for products, as well as the new media: paper, paint, pens and pencils.

Maganbhai: ‘I hadn’t used a pen for four years… I had never seen the sea! I enjoyed the freedom, the fun, the support of team members. The first few days were hard… but I never imagined such a school!’ Junaidbhai: ‘We went to the beach for fun, but had our eyes opened. Now, I will always see in a new way.’ Khimjibhai: ‘The first time I made colour, I did it randomly, but by the last time, I learned how to mix, and kept records so that I could repeat it.’

The artisans went back home to carry out their concepts in their traditional media. The Vidhyalaya’s mentors visited each student to ensure that they would implement what had been learnt in class. What they learnt in working from paper concepts for the first time was the importance of a correlation between the paper concept and the craft. Working on paper, they hadn’t necessarily been thinking of craft. The students learned that they would have to make concepts so that they can be produced, in addition to varying their work to fit the concepts.

 

Section 2, the women students, arrived from Vandh, the village next-door to Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya. They were intentionally selected to ensure a link between the institute and the village, and to avoid the difficulty of women having to stay away from their families for two week stretches. The women also varied in age, from 17 to 55. They all worked with Kala Raksha. However, unlike the men, their understanding of their tradition was not primarily professional. Folk embroidery, unlike other textile arts, was originally for personal use. Though commercialization and new production techniques have been introduced in the last 30 years, Rabaris continue to embroider traditional work for themselves, making unique creations. ‘What we do for ourselves is art,’ says Lachhuben, Kala Raksha Vandh coordinator and Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya student. ‘And our work always had to do with imagination as much as stitching.’

When addressing the problem of limited time for their own work, Rabari artisans did not choose the production solution of working on printed patterns. Valuing inspiration over labour, they favoured different technologies such as machine embroidery. Thus, these students brought with them experience with the design process and a direct link between design and production, but limited commercial exposure and almost no formal education. Only six of 15 students had gone to third or fourth grade.

 

Given nearly the same exercises as the men, the women students could find little relevance between this education and their art. They enjoyed observation and creating new patterns. ‘I used photography for inspiration,’ Khetuben recalls. ‘By seeing we don’t pay attention. Photography concentrated my attention.’ But when they translated paper concepts to embroidery, as one woman observed, ‘Of course the embroidery is going to look like the drawing!’ And their drawing skills were undeveloped.

We quickly realized that the needs of the two sections significantly differed. The material had to be modified and presented differently. And the visiting faculty needed to be aware of the cultural background of the participants.

The second course, ‘Market Orientation, Costing, Concept’, introduced the students to discerning and targeting different clients, and to analytical thinking. The class took a field trip to Ahmedabad to visit shops that the artisans had never seen, though several of the men supplied to them. The value of such exposure was reinforced by a direct sale opportunity at an international school after the course. Azizbhai: ‘After the show, I felt like doing retail. I realized that retail is top down; jobwork is rock bottom. I got an idea of what people like! And, I got ideas just by looking. I never imagined a shower curtain; it is a new product!’ Learning to retain and review was however difficult, as was planning in the form of time lines and pricing. ‘The use of this course will be understood not immediately, but in a few years,’ Chamanbhai predicted.

Faculty also grew from teaching artisans. ‘Over the years, craftspeople have become accustomed to be told by designers what to do,’ one faculty reflected, ‘so their response is, "You just tell us what has to be made and we will do it." Being a teacher helped me look at each craftsperson as an individual, in order to help them to build their potential. This experience is the beginning of a process which will be fully realized over time.’ She so realized the importance of market in craft production that she went on to propose a research project to the British Council.

 

For the first two courses, students were learning the largely western-based design process. By the third course, we began Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya’s mission: to learn, incorporate and strengthen the artisans’ own methods of design and understanding of their work. And we began to consciously articulate the curriculum in terms of known cultural concepts.

The key was an exploratory approach. The course, ‘Concept, Communication, Projects’, focused on accessing and using international trend forecasts to develop and translate concepts to products. In the first section, until the men students reached the layout stage, they resisted; but for sampling they plunged joyfully into the looms, printing tables and dye baths of our studios. The students explored design principles, layout and proportion through their studio work. Clearly, they think in their media. Later, the men confirmed that when they worked in groups they felt constrained because it forced them to think too abstractly. When they developed concepts individually, each artisan could ponder over the problem through his own medium, and this was exciting. We realized the need to focus on sampling, and to change the balance of plan and experiment. As Azizbhai said, ‘Writing, seeing and doing are all different. These should be done in proportion… But this course was a laddu for a hungry man; a well for the thirsty! We know everything else; this is what we need!’

 

The third course for the women students was a watershed. Reviewing the homework, the faculty member seized an opportunity to learn how an embroiderer perceives colour. She asked the students to make sense of a pile of coloured embroidery yarns. Without guidance, the women sorted the threads into a rainbow. The faculty had them bring it into a circle – and there was the colour wheel. From that the women learnt the concepts of colour families, contrast, and complementarity. They loved learning colour consciously. ‘Of course we used colour before,’ they said. ‘But we didn’t know how.’ Then the women taught us their own concepts of organization: high and low contrast. When all of the terms were written on the blackboard, they meticulously copied them into their journals. ‘Apna vishay chhe!’ they proclaimed. This is our subject.

The women were given forecast themes explained in terms of their familiar environment. They easily developed concept boards and motifs relating to these themes.

Again, the key factor was beginning with what they know. They were simply asked to draw in the way that they would embroider. ‘Drawing and embroidery used to be two different things!’ Jilliben exclaimed. ‘Now they are one.’ They delighted in extending their vocabulary, within the Rabari style.

By the fourth course, ‘Finishing and Merchandising’, both men and women had learnt to give constructive feedback, essential in bringing the balance of traditional aesthetics to new explorations. A sense of collegiality emerged. For the men, who were a mixed group and resided on campus, out of class experiences added to the richness of the learning experience. ‘Keep the mixed groups,’ Khimjibhai advised. ‘It helps us see in new ways, and to make connections.’ Evening discussions touched on sensitive subjects such as caste and religion. One Harijan man revealed that he had vowed never to eat from the hand of Rabaris. ‘But here I had to break my vow, since the cooks are Rabaris!’ he laughed. This initiated a discussion that would rarely have taken place earlier.

 

In the fifth and final course, ‘Presentation’, the students all reviewed the concept of collection, and began planning for their final juried show. The women easily understood the concepts of a collection, presentation and jury in terms of their custom of making a judio, the embroidery collection a woman presents to her community after the birth of her first son. The students used the computer to create their own documents of their year’s course work. This authentic, hands-on and useful form of review was accomplished with as much skill as enthusiasm. Peer review was extended to the community, in the form of students presenting their work to revered community elders. Though nervous, they welcomed the opportunity to share what they had learnt in a more formal, professional way than would have been possible at home.

As I write this article, we are a month from the first Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya convocation and public mela. We intend this to be a much anticipated event in which the artisans’ work is reviewed by buyers as well as design professionals, and artisans sell new designs in a vibrant wholesale and retail bazaar.

 

The tourist season is also in full swing. A group of Australians was delighted when KRV student weavers, block printers and bandhani artists excitedly showed them work in progress for their final show. In particular, they noticed the pride with which the young designers’ families viewed the new work. The job work artisans now think of doing their own work. Azizbhai says ‘I have the advantage of being both an artisan and a designer. I can do what others cannot!’ He now dreams of going abroad to study design in a new cultural context.

A group of French visitors met the embroidery students in Vandh. As they gathered around Lachhuben and Hiruben’s work, Champuben came running with her portrayal of the sea world of their village, and soon Hassuben, Devalben, Deviben and Ramiben arrived with their work in progress. ‘Ooo la la!’ the French women exclaimed. The artisans were happily relieved. ‘If they like it, we’re on track,’ they said.

The visitors wanted to know if studying design had changed the artisans’ lives. ‘Completely!’ Devalben exclaimed. ‘I never knew I could use my own ideas! I just embroidered and didn’t have that much interest. But when I did a windmill motif, I discovered my ability. It really gave me confidence.’ She showed a wall hanging also depicting the sea world theme, full of dynamic, delightful texture and colour. ‘I see the potential of embroidery now,’ she said. ‘I have dreams. I want to go to America on a plane… maybe take over from Lachhuben and Judyben,’ she laughed. ‘They are getting tired!’

‘We come for 15 days, all together,’ Hiruben said, ‘and do what we don’t have time for at home. We used to just take directions, but now, we know how to apply ideas. I learned to see details…’

Lachhuben, blooming with self-confidence, said she learned what a collection is about, how colour, cloth, motif and stitch have to work together. She pointed out how she used variations of a peacock and colour of thread and cloth to bring her final pieces together in her collection. Asked about her impressions from a recent trip to New York, she said that she saw collections everywhere! She understood that it was an organizing principle.

‘I only went to 4th grade,’ Deviben, the youngest student related, ‘but now I feel educated. I learned how to talk, how to write… I was able to correct what one mentor wrote on the blackboard! Now, we can correct each other because we have reached a level of education.’

The visitors wanted to know if the women would like to learn anything else?

More on design, they all agreed. ‘This is useful; it relates to us. It is what we can do!’ they explained.

But Rami, a thoughtful student, had one doubt. ‘We have to exercise our minds. The experience gives us pride in ourselves. Though, sometimes I wonder: these motifs look Rabari but they are not. So, are they ok?’

Khimjibhai, a weaver, had a related concern. ‘In innovating,’ he said, ‘we must keep the traditional with the new. It is important to retain the identity of being a Kutchi weaving. Otherwise, we make something that anyone can do.’

Critical thinking is one of the most important benefits of education. Such questions must constantly be at the forefront if our goal is to revitalize, not dilute traditions. And the process will be authentic only if artisans ask and answer the questions.