<p class="bodytext">Kantha, often considered the simplest form of Indian embroidery, has in recent decades been used as an ornamental craft. Sarees, dupattas and home textiles bearing these minimal yet vivid patterns are at the forefront of one’s mind when one thinks of handicraft from West Bengal. However, traditionally, its function was neither simple nor meant for beautification. It is this — the origins of kantha — that fashion designer Amit Vijaya explores in the exhibition ‘Threads that Bind: The Kantha Project’, which opened at Gallery Vayu, Delhi, on Wednesday. “This exhibition has been three years in the making,” begins Vijaya, who is originally from Kolkata. Growing up surrounded by the rich textile traditions of the region, he saw firsthand how threadbare garments were strengthened through these seemingly simple and repetitive stitches and turned into something new. The craft gets its name from the Sanskrit word ‘kontha’, which translates to rags. The worn cotton muslin sarees and dhotis of rural women and men of Bengal were rarely thrown away. Instead, they were layered and stitched together. The resultant fabric was used as a quilt.</p>.Chant & chill: Is bhajan clubbing a genuine spiritual revival?.<p class="bodytext">“These were heritage pieces that were then handed down through generations. Almost all of them had the name of the family or who it belonged to embroidered on them,” Vijaya notes. Often, it was a community exercise. After a full day’s work in the fields or at home, women would sit together outside their homes and stitch while chatting and catching up, he shares, adding that there was zero wastage. “Even the yarn used for stitching was deweaved fabric from another piece of cloth that was perhaps on its last legs,” he explains. </p>.<p class="bodytext">“In my line of work, visiting craft fairs is part of the job. I have seen how the term ‘kantha’ has been mislabeled and misrepresented. It has been relegated to mean ‘running stitch embroidery,’” he explains. And hence, he wanted to spotlight the craft form and highlight its essence. He hopes this will be the first of many exhibitions, focusing on the textile traditions of India. For this showcase, Vijaya and his team put out posts on social media asking for individuals to donate old fabric that they had no use for. They received decades-old Kanjeevarams, intricate kalamkaris almost in tatters and block-printed Bagru sarees. Vijaya also turned to his own label for excess indigo-dyed fabric. A total of 13-15 pieces make up the exhibition. </p>.<p class="bodytext">A nearly 60-year-old Kanjeevaram, a bridal saree of a donor’s mother, is a particularly interesting piece in the collection. “It has now been turned into a throw. It can also be used as a dupatta,” Vijaya says.</p>.<p class="bodytext">A kalamkari saree with the ‘tree of life’ rendered entirely through Telugu script is another highlight. “The design was completely faded, and the fabric was torn. But we strengthened the fabric through kantha work without taking away from the kalamkari,” he recalls. The collection also references crafts like pojagi, boro, and sashiko.</p>.<p class="bodytext">While boro is a Korean patchwork technique that uses silk and ramie fabrics, boro is a Japanese patching and mending technique typically using indigo-dyed cotton, and sashiko, also from Japan, is an embroidery style used to reinforce weak fabric. </p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="italic">The exhibition is on until March 20 at Gallery Vayu, Delhi.</span></p>
<p class="bodytext">Kantha, often considered the simplest form of Indian embroidery, has in recent decades been used as an ornamental craft. Sarees, dupattas and home textiles bearing these minimal yet vivid patterns are at the forefront of one’s mind when one thinks of handicraft from West Bengal. However, traditionally, its function was neither simple nor meant for beautification. It is this — the origins of kantha — that fashion designer Amit Vijaya explores in the exhibition ‘Threads that Bind: The Kantha Project’, which opened at Gallery Vayu, Delhi, on Wednesday. “This exhibition has been three years in the making,” begins Vijaya, who is originally from Kolkata. Growing up surrounded by the rich textile traditions of the region, he saw firsthand how threadbare garments were strengthened through these seemingly simple and repetitive stitches and turned into something new. The craft gets its name from the Sanskrit word ‘kontha’, which translates to rags. The worn cotton muslin sarees and dhotis of rural women and men of Bengal were rarely thrown away. Instead, they were layered and stitched together. The resultant fabric was used as a quilt.</p>.Chant & chill: Is bhajan clubbing a genuine spiritual revival?.<p class="bodytext">“These were heritage pieces that were then handed down through generations. Almost all of them had the name of the family or who it belonged to embroidered on them,” Vijaya notes. Often, it was a community exercise. After a full day’s work in the fields or at home, women would sit together outside their homes and stitch while chatting and catching up, he shares, adding that there was zero wastage. “Even the yarn used for stitching was deweaved fabric from another piece of cloth that was perhaps on its last legs,” he explains. </p>.<p class="bodytext">“In my line of work, visiting craft fairs is part of the job. I have seen how the term ‘kantha’ has been mislabeled and misrepresented. It has been relegated to mean ‘running stitch embroidery,’” he explains. And hence, he wanted to spotlight the craft form and highlight its essence. He hopes this will be the first of many exhibitions, focusing on the textile traditions of India. For this showcase, Vijaya and his team put out posts on social media asking for individuals to donate old fabric that they had no use for. They received decades-old Kanjeevarams, intricate kalamkaris almost in tatters and block-printed Bagru sarees. Vijaya also turned to his own label for excess indigo-dyed fabric. A total of 13-15 pieces make up the exhibition. </p>.<p class="bodytext">A nearly 60-year-old Kanjeevaram, a bridal saree of a donor’s mother, is a particularly interesting piece in the collection. “It has now been turned into a throw. It can also be used as a dupatta,” Vijaya says.</p>.<p class="bodytext">A kalamkari saree with the ‘tree of life’ rendered entirely through Telugu script is another highlight. “The design was completely faded, and the fabric was torn. But we strengthened the fabric through kantha work without taking away from the kalamkari,” he recalls. The collection also references crafts like pojagi, boro, and sashiko.</p>.<p class="bodytext">While boro is a Korean patchwork technique that uses silk and ramie fabrics, boro is a Japanese patching and mending technique typically using indigo-dyed cotton, and sashiko, also from Japan, is an embroidery style used to reinforce weak fabric. </p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="italic">The exhibition is on until March 20 at Gallery Vayu, Delhi.</span></p>