The Indian Printing Blocks as an allegory of self realisation, possibly :-)

 

The Indian Printing Block series.

I have been working on several projects, some of which have been hugely satisfying.  In particular the restoration and addition of missing parts and layer blocks to some stunning hand carved woodblocks from India. These blocks, originally used to create complex multi-coloured designs primarily on saris, are the remnants and cast offs of a flourishing  industry which declined as mechanised and industrial scale methods of fabric printing became dominant.  

As such these found treasures I have collected are often the only remaining blocks, disassociated by the rest of the colour blocks that originally made up the beautiful designs. The level of skill required to carve them is hugely impressive. I have been filling in the gaps and missing colours in the patterns by carving in wood, lino or otherwise printing parts of the designs using silk screen printing and AI processes that mimic the original woodcut outcomes. This speculative re-creation of the ‘missing’ blocks of colour has been a very exciting and lovely experience. It has also unexpectedly enabled me to think metaphorically about the parts of our lives that coexist in harmony with others, and what may be missing that we can seek and if not find, emulate or recreate. (In making art don’t we always look for the missing parts in our understanding, and ultimately those elements  of ourselves that lay undiscovered?)

I have acquired a new awareness of the processes involved, listened to stories of friends who grew up with the sound of the stamps coming down on the lengths of fabric, and  I developed an even greater respect for the artists who carved the blocks. a limited number of these prints will be made as variable editions.  I decided that the numbers will be very small as my main purpose in this undertaking is research and development, not editioning. 

One of my designs above.  Japanese lino and AI digital printing combination. 

Supplementary block carved in Japanese lino for the lime green areas seen in the woodblock print below. 

Repeat pattern from Indian hand-carved block in rosewood and screenprinted background from Isfahan. The cross-fertilisation of cultures and art forms is of particular interest. 

Above sketch book and experimental proofs.

Above and below one of the 'recreated ' designs in colour.

Creating the supplementary woodblock in the studio. 

Some brief background (more to follow). 

Printing designs onto fabric most likely originated in China about 4,500 years ago, it was on the Indian continent where hand-blocked fabric reached its highest visual expression. Today it continues to be a signature handicraft, and the state of Rajasthan is particularly famous for its block print textiles. Kalamkari is a highly popular form of hand-painted or block-printed cotton textile and paintings, practised in Andhra Pradesh. It is a form of painting cotton fabrics with a kalam i.e. pen, which involves a sharp-pointed pierced bamboo regulating the flow of colour on the fabric.

The name originates from Persian words qalam (pen) and kari (craftmanship). Andhra Pradesh is famous all over for this form of art. The major forms are Srikalahasthi from Chittoor district, and Machilipatnam Kalamkari of Krishna district. Machilipatnam Kalamkari involves the use of vegetable dyed block-painting of fabrics and it is produced in the town of Pedana, near Machilipatnam in Krishna district of Andhra Pradesh.

Indian artisans always possessed unparalleled expertise in the secrets of natural plant dyes, particularly with mordants  (a mordant is  substance, typically an inorganic oxide, that combines with a dye or stain and thereby fixes it in a material.)

A kind of clay resist-printing, called dabu, which allows areas of a design to be masked from dye, also flourished here. A series of combinations of mordant and resist stamping and dyeing enabled Indian printers to create uniquely complex designs, coveted from Southeast Asia and palaces of Mughal emperors to the capitals of Western Europe. Between outside influences and the diversity of India’s own indigenous communities, India has yielded one of the most magnificent pattern vocabularies in the world.

English demand in the 1700s for chic, cheap Indian floral cottons led to an enormous boom that coincided largely with the golden age of Mughal Empire patronage, when the Maharajah were outfitting their courts with finely printed diaphanous muslins. However, the advent of mass production in England meant the end of this export market for India, and punishing colonial legislation forced Indian citizens to buy cheap imitations of their own work. In that moment, artistic knowledge, which had been passed down for possibly thousands of years, from one generation to the next, teetered on extinction.

Despite the economic models which have meant that block printing is a time consuming and labour intensive process, there are many compelling factors that are sustaining and possibly revitalising it. The cooperation needed between artisans from different religious casts  to create the final textile, the intricacy yet fallibility of these handmade artworks and the humanity of each carved wooden block create a story around the outcomes that I find very compelling and which I am exploring in this series of works.