Revival of chikan
Janaki Bhatt

IN 1998, when Vishal Mehra passed out with the ‘best student designer award’ from the Institute of Fashion Technology in Hyderabad, strangely enough, he was not looking at making a career out of being a designer. Instead, his mind was set on exploring and furthering the forgotten art of chikankari.

He shifted base from Hyderabad to Lucknow, from where the embroidery form originated. He set up a tiny workshop, employed some gifted women who had inherited the art from their grandmothers and began embellishing designer wear for upmarket boutiques in the city.

"I studied in one nawabi city and work in another," says Mehra. "For me, ornate styling is a skill that comes naturally. In Lucknow, I have the added advantage of blending my skills with the creativity of these traditional artisans. Their motifs and patterns are unique and infinitely inspiring in my field of work."

Mehra is not the only couturier who banks heavily on chikan work for that touch of class in hi-fashion wear. From Ritu Beri and Pallavi Jaikishan to Rohit Bal, Tarun Tahiliani, Shahab Durazi and Muzaffar Ali, every top Indian designer today has succumbed to the magic of this ancient embroidery form.

Lucknow also has SEWA (Self Employed Women’s Association), which was started by Reema Banerjee in the early eighties to revive the art. A cooperative effort, it has become a major success story and contributed hugely towards improving the lot of chikankari artisans.

"More than anything else, the association has brought the art closer to the masses with its more affordable and less fancy, yet intricate designs," says Banerjee who handles the marketing and holds exhibitions of SEWA’s products.

"If you wear chikan, you are wearing history," emphasises Mehra. "It has been a form of art that has been part of the Indian heritage for centuries. Many people associate it with Islamic or nawabi culture, but the truth is that it was there even before the Mughal invasion. The Mughals only made it fashionable."

Historically, one of its biggest patrons was Noor Jehan (16th century) who made it almost de rigueur for ladies of the court to dress in chikan-embroidered outfits. In time, dancers and musicians in the courts of Rajput kings also began sporting this exquisite embroidery.

But the work was no easy process. On an average, it took an artisan (every piece had to be completed by one embroider as the handiwork of each differs) up to six months just to complete one chikan saree. The more intricate or detailed a design, the longer it took.

Today, with an assembly-line form of production governing the embroidery process at workshops, it usually takes six women to work on a single saree. While one could be an expert in embroidering leaf patterns, another might specialise in flowers, tendrils or butterfly motifs... and so on.

"Only those with artistic and nimble handwork can master the art of chikan embroidery," says Savitri Devi, a SEWA member and master artisan. "The designs are traced on the fabric in advance from wooden blocks or paper stencils. Our women then work on them and fill in the details."

Savitri Devi points out that the most common stitch employed is the ‘shadow’. "Basically stitches cover the back of the material in the style of a herringbone and produce a shadow effect on the front side of a piece of fabric," she explains.

The shadow stitch is then combined with other forms of needlework, such as the lace-looking jaali stitch. Inspiration is also drawn from other embroidery traditions like mokaish and zardozi (in tone-on-tone), but purists are never comfortable with such fusion of styles.

"Till today, most design motifs produced by traditional chikan artisans have been inspired by Mughal architecture," explains Banerjee. "But now their vision is changing and with it, we see a broadening of their creative canvas. Besides, with the change in content, a change in form is inevitable."

Mehra, who has also been experimenting with zardozi on chikan, sees nothing wrong in adapting with the times. "Earlier, chikan work used to be done by women, while zardozi was an exclusively male prerogative. That is why the two art forms could not be combined. Today, such distinctions do not exist."

But then, what ultimately matters is the feel of wearing chikan. "You feel like a queen," says Savitri Devi. "Really, the great thing about this form of embroidery is that it never goes out of fashion. It suits women of all ages and strata of society. It is timeless!"

— MF