While the matchbox may have been sidelined by hobbyists due to its ubiquity, it has a small but devoted band of collectors trying to raise its public profile. Matchbox collecting even has its own classical name coined in the 1930s: phillumeny (a combination of Greek ‘philo’ for love and Latin ‘lumen’ for light).
“The difference between stamps and matchbox covers is that stamps are printed by the government on special paper in preset denominations. Matchbox covers, on the other hand, are dependent on the manufacturer and the label designer, and there’s no control on the copyright,” says J Raghupathy, founder, South India Phillumenists Association.
The Tiruchi-based organisation, formed a few months ago, has around 40 members from the State, and hopes to act as a platform for phillumenists across India.
“Collecting hobbies start in childhood, and then when you build up sets of stamps, antiques, notes and coins, inevitably you realise that you should be doing matchbox covers and labels too,” says association president P Vijaykumar.
Lighting up
Safety matches came to India in the early 20th century, when immigrant families from Japan started manufacturing matches with hand- and power-operated machines in Calcutta.
The small indigenous production was supplemented by imports from Sweden and Japan until World War I. However Calcutta’s match factories were unable to sustain the trade after the war, and this marked the slow shift of the industry to southern India, especially to the districts of Ramanathapuram and Tirunelveli of Tamil Nadu.
According to archival articles online, Tamil entreprenuers P Ayya Nadar and A Shanmuga Nadar learned how to make the safety matches from Bengali businessman Purna Chandra Ray and set up labour-driven manufacturing units back in Tamil Nadu, that led to the mushrooming of family-run ‘match king’ businesses in the State.
Today, Tamil Nadu’s matchbox industry is closely associated with that of fireworks manufacture, and is concentrated in Sivakasi, Sattur and Virudhunagar. “Up to 1972, Wimco was a leading brand in matchbox production. This monopoly was broken when the Government decided to start small-scale industries in production in Sivakasi, Nagapattinam, Cuddalore district and Thanjavur, wherever there were forests. But only units in Gudiyattham and Pollachi of that period have survived,” says Raghupathy.
Eye for detail
It needs a collector’s slightly obsessive eye to find out unique features in a mass-produced item like the matchbox. “Sometimes the same company issues different labels according to the region, to monitor distribution and sales effectively,” says Raghupathy.
“All kinds of themes can be found on these covers: flora, fauna and of course, prominent film stars, and even, oddly, telecommunication brands. Copyright is a grey area, anything goes,” he adds.
Raghupathy, a freelance printing executive, has got around 4,500 matchbox covers in his collection, which he buys usually from small grocery shops. “If I find something I don’t have, I buy a pack of 10, even though I need only 2 (one for the front and one for back). The remaining are exchanged with others. One major plus of this hobby is that it is cheaper than philately,” he says.
Vijaykumar, who works as a teacher, concentrates on labels that were pasted on wooden matchboxes before the advent of cardboard packaging 20 years ago. “I have around 4000 labels dating back to 70 years, as you can see from currency markings,” he says. “From Anna, to Naya Paisa, to the Rupee, the labels and covers reflect the movement of the nation’s economy and inflation levels.”
Together, the two friends want to popularise the hobby among the youth through exhibitions held under the auspices of the South India Phillumenists Association. “We have already held several shows in the Government Museum here, and will be approaching colleges soon,” says Vijaykumar.
A bright future?
Gautam Hemmady, an architect based out of Delhi and a noted phillumenist with 15,000 matchbox labels in his collection, rues the disorganised nature of the hobby in India. “Almost nothing is available in the form of books or catalogues or any research, except perhaps an occasional magazine article or newspaper report,” he says. “Stamp collectors on the other hand have always had the support of official documentation (from the stamp issuing authorities mostly but also from a lot of dedicated collectors), associations, newsletters, and various other publications.”
Highlighting the finer points of the artwork on matchboxes, he says, “Labels are very topical and always reflected the times they were produced in. The post-Independence years also saw a lot of product advertising, representing a country busy with economic activity and some government campaigns like prohibition and handloom promotion. Taken collectively they document popular culture and art in a most interesting manner.”
Specialisation is rarely encountered and research or documentation is almost unheard of in phillumeny, says Hemmady, who held an exhibition titled Matchbox Labels and the Stories They Tell in Delhi in 2016. “The result is that very few collectors actually know anything about the matchboxes themselves or the industry. The sheer variety on view is probably the reason why they seem to be instantly attractive to most people. There’s something very compelling about these little matchboxes,” he says. Though matchsticks have lost out to gas lighters in recent years, they remain relevant in the Indian household purely due to cultural reasons. “You would never light a prayer lamp with a cigarette lighter,” says Vijaykumar. “Matchboxes are the easiest to procure and maintain, and they work in all conditions.”
