A prominent textile collection in the city of Ahmedabad, Gujarat, offers daily tours including one that represents the pieces as embodiments of devotional feeling, commitment, and skill. The guide who interprets the pieces regards the devotional value of the objects to be critical to the story of the tour especially for foreign visitors. Similar narratives can be found in South Asian collections in various parts of the world. However, for this tour guide the spiritual-aesthetic value of these textiles carried a critique of western societies that had lost their own craft forms to industrialization and therefore came to India to be able to experience such aesthetics. Simultaneously, the situation in Indian handicrafts was regarded as one of endangerment and deskilling due to digital media and technology.
I use this museum tour as a way to argue that the transactional value as well as the socio-economic conditions and desires of makers were critical erasures in the tour’s narrative. While looking at the textiles as one-of-a-kind artworks, there was discomfort in attributing monetary value to them as they were offerings for a deity. This opposition between things made out of loving service and things made for sale in the market made it seem natural that truly spiritualized works would transcend questions of remuneration for labor. As handiwork skills are lost or diminished in various Indian craft forms, such devotional textiles in curated collections acquire an aura that merges high levels of skill with idealized states of spiritual commitment.
It is certainly possible that textiles are made by those who feel a spiritual bond with a deity or divine force as I explored in my earlier studies on bhakti seva in ISKCON, India (2019/24). However, even in that contemporary temple worship context, deity dressmakers were paid to embroider and sew the clothing that later evoked feelings of transcendental awe on the altar. That is, there is a knowledge gap between the reception of an artisanal work and the maker’s circumstance. Except for cases where the maker is also the person who is offering the textile to a deity, such a gap overlooks the hierarchical relationship between the person who commissioned the textile and provided the materials, and the circumstances of the maker who painted, embroidered, or wove it.
In the terrain of a Gujarati patola saree intended for ceremonial use, the spiritual was always connected with the economic and this cloth was a luxury restricted to a few. Today, prohibitively expensive double ikat (resist tie-and-dye) Patan Patola sarees have been replaced by single ikat Rajkot Patolas where both names, Patan and Rajkot, designate places of production in Gujarat. Increasingly, Rajkot Patola weavers have mastered the skills of making double ikat sarees such that these can be bought for far less than a Patan Patola. The persistence of certain auspicious motifs is accompanied by innovations in traditional wedding sarees, such as the panetar, where ikat is incorporated to create new motifs and styles. Such developments have helped make real the desires of women to wear silk patolas for a wedding or a pregnancy ritual. Where do such sarees fit in the spiritual spectrum as well as in discussions of artisanal value?
Patan Patola weavers describe the process of making as knowledge gained through sadhana, denoting the discipline needed to become masters of the form. In practice, the manner in which such work was carried out varied and shifted between individual households doing all the work to specialized processes being distributed across cities in Gujarat. In the case of Rajkot Patola, sarees are commissioned by a master weaver who employs many artisans. The master weaver covers the cost of materials and depending on demand, can pay people well for complex designs to be tied and dyed prior to weaving. Many job workers become small master weavers and a few become successful businessmen or patolawalas. Our understanding of South Asian textiles in both Indian and Western collections can be broadened to include an understanding of the labor and lives of artisans who made these cloths. That is, the power to commission such labor and the class/caste differences between makers-traders-users of these textiles is often overlooked in our discussion of devotional and spiritual textiles especially when the beauty of these objects overshadows other perceptions. In light of my recent fieldwork on double and single ikat patola weaving in Gujarat, I regard beauty and skill as entangled with, and the result of, arduous and repetitive physical labor. What do we learn about the spiritual attachments of such cloths when they are related to the conditions in which they are made and viewed as forms of effort? What does devotional labor look like?
Devotional textiles in traditional Indian artisanal forms can be considered as spiritual objects as well as embodiments of human labor and creativity that act as a culture’s heritage. In addition, our understanding of Indian textiles in both South Asian and Western collections can be enhanced by reflecting on the lives of artisans who made such cloths worn for religious rituals. As the weavers who made such cloths are long gone further context on these textiles is only possible by researching today’s practitioners who are inheritors of a craft and knowledge tradition. In light of my recent fieldwork on double and single-ikat Patola weaving in Gujarat, I approach making as arduous and repetitive physical labor. What do we learn about the spiritual attachments of such cloths when they are related to the conditions in which they are made and viewed as forms of work? What does devotional labor look like?