Penelope Gan | Photo Blog » Craft

Taj Mahal, the Crown Palace

ganpenelope — Wed, 20 Apr 2011 00:18:11 +0000

The Taj Mahal (Crown Palace) is regarded as one of the eight wonders of the world. Some Western historians have noted that its architectural beauty has never been surpassed and is the most beautiful monument built by the Mughals, the Muslim rulers of India.

Built entirely of white marble, the Taj Mahal was constructed over a period of twenty-two years, employing twenty thousand workers by Emperor Shah Jahan (died 1666 C.E.) in the memory of his dear wife – queen Mumtaz Mahal (her real name was Arjumand Banu*) at Agra, India. Completed in 1648 C.E. at a cost of 32 Million Rupees, the Taj is an “elegy in marble” or some say an expression of a “dream.” Glowing in the light of the full moon, the Taj transforms to take on a dreamy fairy like existence – as if floating and suspended in clouds – on a foggy morning when viewed from across the Jamuna river.

The Taj serves as a Mausoleum that houses the grave of queen Mumtaz Mahal at the lower chamber. The construction documents show that its master architect was Ustad ‘Isa, the renowned Islamic architect of his time, employing specialised expert craftsmen from Delhi, Qannauj, Lahore, Multan, Baghdad, Shiraz and Bukhara.

The Taj stands on a raised, square platform (186 x 186 feet) with its four corners truncated, forming an unequal octagon. The architectural design uses the interlocking arabesque concept, in which each element stands on its own and perfectly integrates with the main structure. It uses the principles of self-replicating geometry and a symmetry of architectural elements.

Its central dome is fifty-eight feet in diameter and rises to a height of 213 feet. It is flanked by four subsidiary domed chambers. The four graceful, slender minarets are 162.5 feet each. The entire mausoleum (both internal and external chambers) is decorated with inlaid design of flowers and calligraphy using precious gems such as agate and jasper. The main archways, chiseled with passages from the Holy Qur’an and the bold scroll work of flowery pattern is captivating. The central domed chamber and four adjoining chambers include many walls and panels of Islamic decoration.

The mausoleum is a part of a vast complex comprising of a main gateway, an elaborate garden, a mosque (to the left), a guest house (to the right), and several other palatial buildings. The Taj is at the farthest end of this complex, with the river Jamuna behind it. The large garden contains four reflecting pools dividing it at the center. Each of these four sections is further subdivided into four sections and then each into yet another four sections. Like the Taj, the garden elements serve like Arabesque, standing on their own and also constituting the whole.

Shah Jahan’s grave was later added to the Taj Mahal.

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* In the tradition of the Mughals, important ladies of the royal family were given another name at their marriage or at some other significant event in their lives, and that new name was commonly used by the public. Shah Jahan’s real name was Shahab-ud-din, and he was known as Prince Khurram before ascending to the throne in 1628.

Kecak (ˈketʃak)

ganpenelope — Wed, 02 Feb 2011 00:18:08 +0000

Originating from the Sanghyung exorcism ritual, Kecak gained traction as an art form in the 1930s through the collaboration of German artist Walter Spies and Wayan Limbak a local. Pronounced ‘ketʃak, it is a form of Balinese music drama performed primarily by hundreds of men wearing only black and white checked loin cloth around their waist sitting in concentric circles, swaying, standing up and lying prone as they percussively chant “chak – a – cak – chak”.

Incorporating fragments of the popular epic Ramayana, the story teller’s voice can be heard amongst the swaying masses of voices in traditional Balinese language, lending Kecak the alternative name of ‘Ramayana Monkey Chant’.

Whilst there are many groups of Kecak performers in Bali – with almost every community hosting one that comprises of the entire village’s population of men – not all Kecak are created equal. Nonetheless, witnessing any of the groups performing this trance inducing exorcism dance at dusk is a mesmerizing hair raising experience not to be missed; Kecak is a triump of style and mood, rather than story, which will leave you wide-eyed, transfixed and haunted by the sounds of “chak – a – cak – chak” for weeks to come.

Strokes of Hope

ganpenelope — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 15:06:28 +0000

Drawing from their long history of Buddhism, Tibetan art has always been synonymous with Thangkas – religious scrolls that projects iconographical and religious elements. However, with changes in Lhasa brought about by the arrivals of pilgrims from all corners of the world prostrating in front of the Jokhang and thus the emergence of a plethora of entertainment venues hosting kitschy Tibetan cultural shows, Tibetan artist have been undergoing ‘similar’ transformation or ’progress’.

Tired of being exotic-sized in the West as “mystics,” and “ethnic”, they have broken norms and boundaries, fiercely defending their right to express their own identities within the modern dialectic under the purview of art schools such as the Gendun Choephal School in Lhasa.

Neither a traditionalist tantric influence nor an avant-garde fan, I was instantly attracted to the middle-of-the-road approach used by this artist at the Tibetan Refugee Self Help Centre. What was pleasantly surprising, if not shocking, was to find a docile lady in exile producing such fine pieces that continues to reflect the cultural identity of Tibet, while producing works that are commercially viable, despite being isolated and hence insulated from the developments of the Tibetan art world that has attracted both positive and negative opinions;

the ecumenical modern art world (though comprising mostly of artists hailing from the developed Western world) looks at contemporary Tibetan artists as a group playing catch up with post modernism, and
whilst the native Tibetans are concern that in the haste to embrace globalisation to overcome social, psychological and economic changes of the world, Tibetan will lose their tradition.

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check out Thangkas: Buddhist Religious Scrolls a multimedia piece by Mohit Gupta; brilliant engineer, enthusiastic photographer and friend

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Sculptured Dough

ganpenelope — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 00:18:16 +0000

Sculpturing with dough is a folk art that is a dying tradition and little known off outside China. Based on known written records, dough sculpturing is believed to have dated back to the Han Dynasty (206BC – AD220) where they were made as sacrifices and buried with the dead.

During the Song Dynasty (AD960-1279) the dough sculptures expanded its importance beyond sacrifices to an edible form of art taking shapes of birds, flowers and even people. Its usage continued to grow in importance, and with more and better artisans present, it was made into art pieces and kept in glass boxes until the end of the Qing Dynasty.

Today, in places where they can be found, particularly in the Northern parts of China such as Shanxi, Shaanxi, Shandong and Hebei, dough sculptures are used as food garnishes during wedding ceremonies and festivities in addition to sacrifices and offerings during funerals.

In terms of style, dough sculptures in the Yellow River Valley are simple, crude, unconstrained and profound, while those in the Yang Tze River Valley are delicate, exquisite and polished. Made from well-leavened wheat flour dough, and utilising basic tools such as scissors, tweezers, kitchen knife, comb, Chinese dates and Bunge prickly ash, a skillful dough sculptor is able to knead a few coloured pieces of flour into a vivid figurine within minutes with his bare hands.

Typically measuring 3″ tall, dough sculptures may be made up to 12″ tall or tiny enough to be displayed in half a walnut shell. Whilst they have long provided for study in history and folk lore in Chinese cultural traditions - depicting scenes of the life and times of Emperors, ancient sage, poets and other aspects of Chinese culture and literature - dough sculptures today may take form of other popular genres and modern fictional characters such as Pokemon, Doremon, Spider man, Hello Kitty and the likes to delight children and their parents with the hopes of reviving the trade of dough sculptors – but less so the Chinese art form, tradition and cultural significance.

Tibetan Refugees: Tibetan Rug Revival

ganpenelope — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 00:18:39 +0000

Whilst the rug making industry in Tibet stretches back hundreds if not thousands of years, to satisfy monastic institutions and wealthy families need for khaden (a comfortable and warm seat carpet measuring 3 feet by 5 feet), Nepal is currently the largest global producer and exporter of Tibetan rugs followed by India.

Notwithstanding the Chinese Communist occupation of Tibet in the 1950s, the Tibetan rug industry faced sharp decline in the mid 20th century from its heydays in the 19th and early 20th century. Social upheaval that begun in 1959 is said to have given rise to the decline followed by experiments of collectivisation that left rural Tibetans with little time to weave; drastically cutting off khalden supplies to monasteries, the biggest procurer of Tibetan rugs.

The decline was exacerbated when many of the aristocratic families who formerly organized the weaving workshops of the best quality Tibetan rugs fled to India and Nepal, lending a further blow to the waning Tibetan rug industry. With them, they brought their knowledge of rug making and reorganised workshops that saw the revival of Tibetan rug weaving in the 1970s within the refugee communities of Nepal and India.

Although initially weaved by Tibetan refugees, local non-Tibetan workers were soon recruited, which eventually replaced the original Tibetan weavers. With increasing export demands and cost pressures, new materials, designs, machinery and rugs of larger sizes were introduced by the non-Tibetan workers with the aim of accommodating the living rooms of the export markets; thereby eroding the ancient tradition and contributing towards the disappearance of knowledge.

Over time, the Tibetan rug producers have abandon the traditional use of Tibetan highland sheep’s wool, changpel, and unique knotting method (that is different from that used in other rug making traditions globally), for rugs weaved by machines out of inexpensive imported wool and cheap dyes, thereby marring the quality of Tibetan rugs. With more informed customers today, these cheaper and poorer quality rugs are now marketed as ‘Tibetan styled rugs’ and sold widely in Nepal, India and Tibet for the tourist market.

However, the finest quality of Tibetan rug, in which every process – from yarn spinning, dyeing, knotting and trimming of the pile after weaving – is done by hand still exist in pockets of refugee communities and Tibet. Here, tradition continues to run thick and the Tibetan rugs are still made for flooring to wall hanging to horse saddles, and the most commonly used purpose: a seating carpet, khaden, for monks… definitely not a size that would do your western styled home living room any justice and a hefty price tag that will have you chocking over your butter yak tea.

Mojari Jootis Kolhapuris

ganpenelope — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 00:18:51 +0000

Mojaris, Jootis and Kolhapuris ‘floods’ Rajasthan, Delhi and Punjab with production dating back to the period of Kings and Queens. During its heydays, Jootis were heavily embroidered with real gold and silver threads and decorated with precious gems and pearls. But, with the passage of time, these were replaced by artificial materials, beads, bells and even mirrors (more commonly in Rajasthan), in order to make them affordable for everyone.

Typically Jootis are made out of buffalo, cow or camel leather soles, with the upper part comprises leather or simply textile. Both the parts are joined together by a paste or glue, then hand-stitched with cotton threads.

Mojari is referred to a man’s closed shoe with an extended curled toe, while Jootis have flat fronts. The Jootis’ rear is also normally covered but mojaris have an open look from behind. The ordinary Mojari is either pointed in shape, or rounded. The different forms are known as gol-panja (Round Toe), chota-panja (Small Toe), salem shahi (Pointed Toe).

These flat soled shoes have no left or right distinction.

Stitches of Tibet

ganpenelope — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 00:18:27 +0000

In Tibet, tailoring is a fine art and often divided into four areas: appliqué, fashion design, tent making and accessories and toys.

The finest tailoring would be that done by the appliqué artists is the making of silk thangkas. Constructed with hundreds of hand-cut pieces of silk and brocade, and embroidered with thread and hairs from a horse’s tail, these elaborate creations may take months of work depending on the intricacy and size that ranges from the standard two feet to the sixteen storey kyigus which were hung down the front of monastery buildings during religious festivals.

Stuffed toys on the other hand are crafted for the fun of children and the enjoyment of collectors, often taking the forms of yaks, black and brown bears, marmots, and the famous and much loved dogs: the Apso and the Tibetan mastiff. These toys are often dressed in traditional Tibetan costumes, representing aristocratic bears and nomadic yaks.

However when stitches is resorted to at the Tibetan Refugee Self Help Centre, it centers around practical needs: the production of apparels and tents, with the latter mostly taking on the form of functional door curtains to keep the cold and draft out.

Some artisans are found making shoes, both for sale and use, as well as stuffed toys for sale in the modest tourist shop at the Tibetan Refugee Self Help Centre.

Chinese Opera Facial Makeup

ganpenelope — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 00:18:19 +0000

Facial painting / makeup is of utmost importance in any derivatives of Chinese Opera, regardless of where it is performed. Dating back to Song (960-1279) and Yuan (1271-1368) Dynasties, the facial makeup evolved in intricacy and distinguishable patterns to the eventual ‘facial costumes’ of the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) that carries through to modern day. The origins of this facial makeup however is still largely a matter for conjecture;

The first theory provides that primitive hunters painted their faces to frighten off the wild beasts. Furthermore it was said that highwaymen in the old days did the same to hide their identity and also to overawe the wayfarers they were to rob. Either practice, it is believe to have led to the emergence of dramatic facial makeups.

The second theory posits that the facial makeup owes its origin to the mask. Prince Lanling of the Northern Qi Dynasty (479-507) was a good fighter but, because of his handsome features, aroused no fear in his enemy. To overcome this perception, the Prince had ferocious-looking mask made and wore them to battles. Needless to say, he proved much more formidable and therefore ever-victorious, which led to followers composing a song that celebrates his success. This song is said to have developed into a masked dance with the Prince’s character storming into the enemy formation. Subsequently, the mask became painted patterns for stage character.

Lastly, it is held that facial makeups were used for traditional operas simply because they were often presented on open-air stages to large gatherings of noisy and distracted crowds. Hence, the characters were made to wear painted facial patterns in order to bring the drama home to the audience.

Regardless of its origins, the face makeup plays a symbolic artistic function of expressing commendatory and derogatory connotations and that of differentiating benevolence and malevolence.

For instance, the red face shows bravery, uprightness and loyalty. A typical “red face” is Guan Yu, general of the period of the Three Kingdoms (220-280) , famed for his faithfulness to his Emperor, Liu Bei.

The reddish purple face likewise shows a just and noble character. Lian Po in the well-known play Jiang Xiang He (The General Reconciled with the Chief Minister), takes on a reddish-purple appearance to ‘carry’ his proud and impetuous character in the play which quarrels with the chief minister to whom he was ultimately reconciled.

The fearsome looking black face on contrary portrays a rough and bold character or an impartial and selfless personality. This facial painting is typically reserved for General Zhang Fei (from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms play) and Li Kui (of Water Margin). In the latter, Bao Gong @ Bao Zheng – the semi-legendary fearless and impartial judge of the Song Dynasty – also spots a black face.

A green face depicts surly stubbornness, impetuosity and a total lack of self-restraint. And the most commonly seen facial makeup on stage – white face – is for the powerful villain that highlights all the bad human nature: cunning, craftiness, treachery.

Typically applying these facial makeup themselves, opera actresses and actors take painstaking hours to depict the stereotype characters they represent utilising horse-hair chinese brushes dipped in red, purple, black, white, blue, green, yellow, gray, golden and silver face paint.

Women Weavers: Kully Valley

ganpenelope — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 00:00:33 +0000

What appears to be distinctively distracting as you drive down the lovely and pristine road connecting Kullu and Manali with the roaring Beas river flowing pass and alpine landscape soaring way way above the skyline, are countless of shops selling mufflers, stoles and shawls, and in your face “Traditional Kully Shawls” signboards posted above or beside what appears to approximate the size of the shop itself!

Interestingly 20,000 to 22,000 people are said to be engaged in weaving around this valley and many of which are women.

During my trip to Manali, I was fortunate to be invited into 3 homes of weavers, two of which were part of a women weaving cooperative society. I was informed that 90% of the weavers in the Kullu Valley work with or is in some way affiliated to the many well-organised weaving cooperative societies, most of which are operated by women for women. Not only does these cooperative societies assist in organising the weavers, procuring bulk raw material and marketing the finished product, the societies have provided employment across the entire value-add chain in the weaving industry to women in this valley which has made them self reliant both from an economic stand point but more importantly in terms of acquiring new skills and experiences that they would otherwise never have had the opportunity and exposure.

Being an integral part of the lives of people in the Kullu Valley, every home has at least one loom; be it being used for commercial reasons or for their own consumption. Not surprising then the Pattus is their traditional attire – a characterless 18-22″ wide blanket like piece woven in the natural colours of wool – black, grey and white (and occasionally dyed with vegetable dyes) that serves the bare necessity of covering their bodies and protecting themselves from severe cold. Worn as a single piece wrapped around their bodies, the Pattu is held in place with a piece of cloth that serves as a belt and fastened at the top with a delicate chain with two clips at its ends.

Today, 70 years after the weavers from Bushehar (Shimla) handed down their weaving knowledge that includes hand looms, geometric designs and synthetic threads (all of which was possibly from the influence and transfer of know-hows by the British) the Kullu Valley now offers an impressive array of woolens for sale in many exotic designs and from the subdued colours of apricot, olive, ocher …et cetera achieved by the natural vegetable dyes to the vogue and fashionable synthetic dyes.

Handicapped by language and under tight time constraint, I regret that I was not able to better understand this art form and the people creating them. I remain curious about the real economic value in these delicate time consuming pieces they create and the actual portions of the economic cake the weavers are entitled too.

Interestingly, I am yet to see any of these hand looms pieces for sale under those blinding “Traditional Kullu Shawls” signage that dots the Kullu Valley and chocks their mainstreet malls. What I’ve seen seems to me to be over-priced machine woven shawls that are widely available all over India – a far cry from the traditional shawls spunned and weaved from natural fibres by hand looms in almost every veranda, garden shed or room in a Kullu home.

So, where do the real Traditional Kullu Shawls go to?

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More shots and behind the scene story HERE {warning: just rants by me}