Remya Krishnan
Remya Krishnan’s tool box is a potpourri of weapons. An assorted range of perfume bottle and jewel box caps, tooth picks, nibs and refills, knives and wood carving tools go into it. “Anything I can lay my hands on is a tool for me,” quips Remya. Toothpicks have helped her make perfect golden dots on large terracotta pendants and jhumkas . Big, small and tiny bottle caps are crucial to this largely self-taught terracotta jewellery maker to carve out perfectly-sized pendants. Every banal item transforms to a handy tool for Remya when she is designing jewellery.
Remya took up terracotta jewellery making almost on a whim four years ago. Her business flourished mostly through Facebook and Prakriti’s creations have travelled to the United States, Britain, Canada, Italy and Dubai. “The order from Italy was not from an Indian. Indians abroad celebrate festivals with much gusto and for them every appearance at these functions is a fashion statement. So I get a lot of orders from NRIs. I remember getting many orders from Texas. Orders come from outside Kerala too, mainly Chennai and Coimbatore,” says Remya sitting among boxes of clay beads, fabric paint, half-done pendants and kiln-treated, black beads. Remya’s tryst with terracotta was quite an accident. A biotechnologist, she quit her job in Ernakulam to raise her babies. “I first saw terracotta jewellery at an exhibition.” She was intrigued enough to find out how jewellery was made out of clay. Sessions of trial and error followed. “I got clay from a tile factory and got to work. But the ones I made kept cracking up.” She followed her husband who was on a business trip to Bangalore and spent a few hours at a terracotta training centre. “I picked up basic facts about getting clay ready for jewellery. It has to be sieved and cleared of all impurities. If there is any dirt, your piece will crack and crumble,” she adds.
Now a specialist terracotta jewellery maker, Remya journey is a blend of artistic talent, imagination and lessons learnt well. Clay sourced from Bangalore is turned into elaborately-worked neck pieces, earrings and finger rings. “The designs are in my head. I like painting, though I do not necessarily draw out a design. I prefer to work straight away on clay.” Once the design is done, it is left to dry and then treated in a kiln at about 900 degree Celsius. “I used to take the jewellery to the potters who would fire it with their pots. After orders shot up, I bought an electric kiln and fire it. After firing comes the painting,” Remya recounts.
Though she now has a loyal clientele and a studio in the new house under construction, Remya says, it was the heart-warming response she got on Facebook that boosted her confidence. “Once I got to work, my husband got me a good camera and I made it a point to post photographs of the pieces I create. I got 100 likes on day one and 1,000 likes in a week. In fact, I earned Rs.40,000 in the first month of business.” Remya’s signature is jewellery with an antique finish. Designs on it range from dancing peacocks and Ganesha to Kathakali face. “Perfection is the key. There are those who sent me pictures of their sari and salwar kameez and want earrings and pendants that would match the design on the fabric.” Her collection is priced from Rs. 125 to Rs. 6,000. Though competition has stiffened over years, Remya says she is committed to terracotta. Though she does stray silver jewellery and sari designing on order, terracotta tests her creativity. “One has to constantly think of new designs. With terracotta, since everything is by hand and done by me, I can be sure that the idea in my head is translated well.” Remya is egged on by a supportive family. “Though my children are otherwise mischievous, they never mess with my tiny, delicate work things.”
P.B. Bidula Baijunath
P.B. Bidula Baijunath has often found herself drawn to clay — its colour, texture and composition. “I grew up by the river in Kannadikkal. Even as a child when I went with friends to play on the river bank, I would often come back with clay and make small models from it,” says Bidula. In her journey from a child who dabbled in clay modelling to a maker of terracotta handicrafts, Bidula has spent time and energy understanding the dynamics of clay. “After my graduation, I went to Belgaum and did a course in master pottery at the Central Village Pottery Institute. There we studied clay in some detail, the colour and shade variation in the clay from different regions and how it reflects the clay composition,” explains Bidula.
Each nook and corner of her house in Elathur boasts a piece of her hand work. On the living room wall is a gigantic work in cement. On the dining table are terracotta jug and salt and pepper holders. On the stairway, a genial old terracotta man greets you. Her work space is littered with boxes filled with terracotta handicraft wrapped in newspaper. “I just came back from an exhibition in Kochi,” says Bidula. On the floor are many terracotta Ganeshas — in one he is reading a book, in another he working on his laptop and having his meal in the next. Terracotta wall-hangings, mirrors, lamp shades, vases in varied sizes and hues make her work space. In the balcony, her day’s work is drying in the sublime evening sun — batches of sun-shaped wall-hanging, a miniature Buddha and trinkets.
Among the prized possession in her repertoire are large hand-made pots. “Unlike regular pots made on the wheel, this one is done entirely by hand by coiling clay and winding it one on top of the other. Once you are done with three or four coils, you have to wait for a while and begin work again. Some times, it will all fall flat and you start from scratch,” says Bidula. Working on a piece and losing it all by the end of the day is part of working with terracotta, according to the maker. “If I make 20 pieces a day, I may get only 10 in the end. The pieces are particularly vulnerable before drying. After that they are fine and I give them a natural shading,” she says.
A natural appearance is integral to Bidula’s work and hence she tries hard to steer away from bright colours. The colour of her pieces is mostly determined from the clay she works on. “I get clay from Bangalore and Wayanad, so too from tile companies here. Each of this clay looks different and so too the artefacts made from it.” When she is in a mood to make designer pots she borrows a wheel from the potters at Kakkodi and gets to work. Long pots, smaller ones with many necks are all in her collection. “Some of them come out in quaint shapes and I keep them with me.” Her hand-made products are given the kiln-treatment by the potters and once she finishes the shading, Bidula gives it the final touches in her small kiln at home. Hence, her pots and vases come out with intriguing patches of black and brown on them. “Some of them look so intriguing that I do not want to part with them. At times when a customer comes, I pray they do not lay their eyes on it.”
Bidula sells her wares mostly through exhibitions. “Customers come home and buy too. Some times they would want alterations to a design and I do it for them,” she says. After staying away from terracotta for 10 years after marriage, Bidula came back to it with a vengeance a while ago. “Now I finish all my house work before my kids leave for school and get down to work. My mother-in-law and husband have been very encouraging. On an average, I make 20 pieces a day and make at least Rs. 10,000 a month.” Her creations are priced from Rs. 50 (for small Ganeshas) to Rs. 5,500 (for relief works). “My dream is to slowly move into terracotta art work.”
