How Sanjay Garg modernised Chanderi while supporting the weaving community

With a fandom including everyone from craft-lovers like Laila Tyabi and Sally Holkar to Bollywood stars like Alia Bhatt, it’s clear that the Chanderi sari is slowly becoming an integral part of several Indian ethnic wardrobes. The weave, which hails from a small town in Madhya Pradesh, was once used to dress royalty and is described to be as light as woven air. Characterised with a buttery hand feel and a graceful sheen, this textile has been transformed by designer Sanjay Garg of Raw Mango to resonate with the modern Indian woman. Vogue got in conversation with Garg on the sustainable processes that are undertaken in production of Chanderi fabrics, the history attached to the weave and the future of the textile

How would you describe the Chanderi fabric?

The Chanderi as it is known today, is a fabric woven with a silk warp and a 100-count cotton weft. However, up until the ’50s, it was woven entirely with 200-count cotton. Chanderi was as famous as jamdani, and used to make pagdis for the kings as well as saris and dhotis. In 1945, the industry was introduced to a silk yarn that came from Japan, and that is when the blend of cotton and silk became popular. In the last decade, weavers have also started producing silk on silk chanderi to make it a more luxury product.

Indians happily pay more for pure silk Chanderi, because they believe that silk is more expensive than cotton. Honestly, I prefer the old-world Chanderi which is a mix of silk and cotton, because it is a combination that takes the best properties from both textiles. It’s neither dull like cotton nor shiny like silk. Instead, it has beautiful, balanced lustre and a lovely fall, and is perfect for India’s tropical climate.

Can you talk about the historical origins of the fabric? Any myths or legends surrounding it?

Locals say they say Chanderi is so light that it is simply woven air, “bunni hui hawa”. Madhya Pradesh was a famous centre for weaving, and the Chanderi made here rose to prominence in the 11th century. This was approximately around the same time as when the region became one of the most important trade routes in India, because of its proximity to the ancient ports of Gujarat, Malwa, Mewar, Central India and Deccan. The textile is also mentioned in various mythological and historical texts. In the Mahabharata, it is suggested that Chanderi fabric was introduced by Lord Krishna’s cousin Shishupa,l and in the Maasir-i-Alamgiri, it is stated that Emperor Aurangzeb ordered the use of a cloth embroidered with gold and silver to make a khilat (a ceremonial robe given to superior).

Which part of Madhya Pradesh did it evolve in?

Chanderi is named after a town in the Ashoknagar district of Madhya Pradesh, which is the epicentre of this textile’s production. The place has a multicultural population including Jains, Hindus, Muslims and tribal communities, and a lot of them are part of the textile industry. It’s also full of interesting old monuments like a Jama Masjid, Hajrat Nizamuddin Dargha Sharif, a fort called Kila Kothi and a floating palace called Badal Mahal.

There’s also the boodhi (old) Chanderi, which is a site of ancient ruins that nobody really visits anymore. It’s an hour away from the town and located on top of a hill—you have to cut through a forest to reach it. For the longest time, I never spoke about these historical gems because I was afraid that the crowds would ruin it.

How is a Chanderi sari made and how long does the process take?

It’s important to know that every single loom producing Chanderi is a handloom. At Raw Mango, our cotton comes from Coimbatore and our silk, from Bangalore and China. It’s tricky to get your desired colour in silk, so this yarn is mostly dyed by the weaver himself, whereas the cotton comes pre-dyed. An interesting fact is that there is a wild onion that grows like a weed in the entire Chanderi region, and this is used for starching the cotton (instead of rice starch used by other weaving communities). This adds to sustainability factor because it’s a local plant growing in surplus.

My designs and motifs are first hand drawn and converted into a naksha (blueprint), which is seeded into a jaala. This jaala technique still exists in Chanderi weaving even though it became extinct in Benarasi looms nearly 80 years ago. They use a wooden instrument called an ankhda to manage the jaala and start weaving. In the 30 or 40 villages surrounding Chanderi where the weaving is done, the entire family helps out with the production; they fill the shuttle which is then put into the weft. The last component is the zari, which is mainly used in the border and for filing motifs; it comes from Surat and Benares. Chanderi saris aren’t washed after weaving traditionally, but at Raw Mango, we soften the saris to give them a better hand feel. In terms of the time taken, it depends on the complexity of the sari. A Chanderi sari with a plain weave will take approximately three days, but depending on the level of detail in the design, it can go up to 15 days.

Can you speak about the design aspect of the Chanderi sari? How has it evolved and how have you contributed to it?

The traditional weave patterns were nal pherwa, dandidar border, chatai, jangla, bundi, ganga jamuni, ashrafi booti etc. But at Raw Mango, we have experimented over the last 11 years with colours and design. Our success with this contemporary interpretation of Chanderi saris and dupattas has had an impact on the entire industry. In terms of colours, the shades used earlier were red, purple, pale blue, pistachio green, white and black. We introduced a palette of new colours like yellow, lime green, midnight blue and sharbati pink, which had never seen before in Chanderi.

More importantly, we worked with techniques to fix dyes permanently. The town of Chanderi is located on a rocky belt where water is scarcely available—so dyeing processes would get hampered. The saris would bleed heavily, and it was even said that if a woman got caught in the rain wearing a red sari, she would turn red herself. We got better at fixing the dyes, and now wash the saris in-house so there is quality control of our products.

We’ve woven bird motifs like parrots and sparrows into Chanderi (a particular crow motif sari is displayed at London’s Victoria & Albert museum). I’ve also worked flowers like roses and marigolds, and wildlife like deers and flamingoes into my collections, and our design experiments continue to this day. We were also the first to get silver, gold and copper zari woven into Chanderi. Silver zari was always used but in very small quantities, so we increased the amount of silver and added copper too.

Can you talk about your relationship with the community of artisans working with Raw Mango?

When I first started working with weavers in Chanderi, they told me my stuff won’t sell because it’s too simple. Nonetheless, I loaned money from my father and decided to hold an exhibition with Jaya Jaitly. When I went back to the weavers to commission the goods, they refused to charge me a single rupee because they thought nobody was going to buy. I promised them the goods would sell even though I had no clue if they would. I was just doing it out of passion and love, and because I strongly felt that there was a need to simplify the traditional designs.

Since then, the wages of my artisans have increased fivefold, which is rare for India. The Scindia family, who have unconditional love for the craft, were able to bring infrastructure like electricity and water to their villages. Most importantly, I’ve always treated them as true collaborators, because frankly, weaving is in their heritage and their DNA. They could do things with their eyes closed and at the end of the day, I’m an outsider. Perhaps I look at things differently, and they may not see what I see. But the success comes from a combination of both.

What do you think is the future of Chanderi?

Whether it is a craft or a language, I believe they need to be kept current to last through the centuries. We will stop speaking Hindi if we do have words added every year. Craft is an ongoing process and has to be influenced by the way we live today, as well as the current problems at hand, whether it is climate change, procuring yarn or packaging. Change is inevitable, but the trick to creating a thing of beauty is to find the fine balance between the past and the future. It’s a very fragile line to walk, but there’s no other way. While my take on Chanderi is modern, I have not changed the loom at all and still use 500-year-old techniques to make my collections.

I think the future of Chanderi is bright as long people still write about it and wear it often, and the saris do not collect dust in cupboards. Wearing Chanderi is more important than buying it, because it will inspire others and help the imagery of the future. There is also a certain responsibility on the designers to build sustainability in our houses and use design to support the craft. I’m happy to take on the challenge.

Also read:

The best blouse designs spotted at India Couture Week 2019

The best lehengas spotted on the runways at India Couture Week 2019

Lust list: Chaandbalis to invest in for the wedding season