In 2018, a team of researchers went from Chennai to Thanjavur to learn more about the art plates of the temple city. Soon they realised that not many residents knew about this unique heritage, even though as a popular gift item, it had kept its few surviving makers busy in cottage-industry units. The craft blending two cultures — Dravidian and Maratha — seemed very much on the wane. From 200 artisan families, there were now only 50 left.
The researchers’ study tour metamorphosed into a grassroots project aimed at reviving the indigenous industry, with the Chennai-based Rajalakshmi Group of Institutions offering support. The plates, introduced during the reign of Bhonsle king Serfoji II (1798-1832), are seeing a surge in sales. The aim, however, was not just to rejuvenate production and sales but to highlight that the plates were more than just curios. Now, 14 years after it got a GI, the heritage craft is gaining new-age currency in markets far and near.
From being just a round alloy piece typically seen in showcases and on walls of houses or hotels, it is now available in various sizes and adorns trendy jewellery, personalised diaries, photo frames, bags and dinner-sets. The project liberated the handicraft from its time warp. “The designs have ceased to be repetitive,” says R. Kalaiselvi, chief investigator of the mission under Rajalakshmi Engineering College (REC).
Give-and-take
It all began when REC conducted a pilot study as part of a government scheme for the rejuvenation of art forms. Funded by the Union Department of Science and Technology’s SHRI programme, the mission shortlisted four artisans. They were brought to Chennai for a training workshop.
At the workshop, the traditional artisans taught REC’s contemporary design engineers and students the four stages of making the plates. “First, we make the basic mould, then the plate. Next is finishing and finally, polishing,” explains master craftsman J. Shankaran, the only dye-making expert in the field. “It is an art of embossing, etching and engraving on metallic surfaces. It has two main parts: maiyam , which is the primary silver relief at the centre, and talavaram , the secondary relief with alternating brass and silver wedges along the plate’s circumference.”
REC students suggested changes to the plate-making technique, but the artisans shrugged them off, saying the kungiliyam (sal) tree’s glue to stick the metal sheets would melt upon exposure to the sun. “To this, our team came up with a technological intervention,” says engineer S. Vinoth Kumar, “We prepared arakku from karuvela (oak) resin. It can withstand temperatures up to 55 degrees Celsius.”
The team also documented the traditional tools and created a digital library, says R. Vijayarajan. “We conceptualised fast pneumatic tools for the art. Our applications, enabled by augmented or virtual reality, permits artisans to present interactive design catalogues to customers.”
Adding such commercial viability has brought in a young crop of plate-makers. S Rajesh, 25, is one of them. Till last monsoon, he hadn’t bothered to learn the family craft even though his father, Shankaran, who has won several awards, has practised it for almost five decades. “Now we are tech-backed,” says the computer-literate youth. “The prices have come down; the orders have gone up.”
T. Kumar, 42, who had joined the construction industry, has gone back to the craft his father, N. Thiagarajan, was passionate about. “Today, I am busy readying fresh models based on novel designs,” he says.
The REC collaboration has improved the artisans’ work environment too. “Constantly hammering on the metal-sheets and pressing between the lead dyes causes severe back strain,” points out Kalaiselvi. “We provided them furniture that suits their kind of labour.”
The writer is a keen follower of Kerala’s performing arts.
