Anniversary issue: Malavika Shivakumar and Jean-François Lesage

Other prominent examples of medallion embroideries all point to a similar provenance: they were embroidered in silk threads on a cotton ground in a satin stitch technique, distinguishing them from the textiles of Gujarat and Bengal which were primarily in chain stitch. The use of metal wrapped thread, characteristic of the Deccan where use of gold and silver wrapped thread was widespread, further anchors its geography. Another indication would be from paintings of the Deccan courts of the 18th century, depicting floor coverings and throws featuring such medallion embroideries. It is striking that this naturalistic decorative lexicon seems to belong to an uninterrupted tradition in the Indian decorative arts as can be evinced, as much in the great temple of Thanjavur as in the palatial mansions of Chettinad, both separated by more than half a millennium.

Brihadeeswara Temple, Thanjavur

On the southern banks of the Kaveri, between the years 1003 and 1010 CE, Rajaraja I, emperor of the Chola dynasty, the greatest of the Chola kings, erected the Brihadeeswara Temple in homage to Lord Shiva. The Cholas were a maritime power: the Kaveri delta was rich agricultural land and a base for overseas trade with Southeast Asia and China; port cities like Nagapattinam flourished under them. In its very making, the temple folds conquest, trade, wealth and devotion into a composition of carved granite. The ability to quarry, move and raise such masses of granite speaks of a state flush with agricultural surplus and maritime revenue, able to convert wealth into literal weight.

We are led into the temple complex through two remarkable gopurams which serve as portals: the Rajarajan Tiruvasal highlights detailed stone carvings inspired by mythology and epitomises Chola artistry. The Keralaanthakan gopuram’s carvings glorify the victory of the Cholas over the Cheras. From here on we are struck by the monumentality of this architectural marvel. A 25 ton Nandi rests majestically inside a first pavilion facing the principal shrine which houses a colossal 20 ton, 2.7 mtr high shivalingam. Above the sanctum, the towering vimana sits on a 99 ft sided square plan and rises to 16 storeys of which 13 are tapering squares, elaborately articulated with pilaster, piers and attached columns throughout, in a feat of balance and symmetry.

On a granite square block above, Nandi pairs grace the four corners. At the apex is the cupola-shaped Shikharam fashioned from a monolithic granite stone weighing 80 ton. An aerial view of the cupola reveals an 8 petalled lotus from which 16 flower garlands cascade onto the sides. Entirely crafted in granite using an interlocking mechanism with no binding materials, the vimana stands as a testament to the genius of its architects and the artistry of its craftsmen. At the base, sculptures and pilasters form deep bays and recesses with each wall denoting a specific iconography of Shiva.

The Maha Mandapam and the Mukha Mandapam, are colonnaded structures, with shrines of eight deities representing eight cardinal directions. Corridor walls are painted with murals and carved with 81 of the 108 postures of the Natya Shastra, the original treatise on Bharatanatyam. Chiselled in stone for posterity, these myths and legends combined with the outsize scale and grandeur of their setting situate the power and influence of temple architecture as symbols of temporal royal clout.

Mansions of Chettinad

Perhaps nowhere else in the Deccan than in the grand manors of Chettinad can one find better examples of the role of trade in the expansion of expressions in both the architecture and decor of the colonial era. At every stage of this mercantile community’s spectacular growth spanning over a century, we see their homes acquire a disposition and character reflective of the newly established social status and wealth of their owners. The fortunes made from their business ventures in the expanding British colonies of the East were ploughed back into their homeland. Street after street saw increasingly larger houses built for the members of the family who remained at home. The fundamental layout of Chettinad homes, from the simple village houses to the grander latter-day manors, continued to adhere to the strictures of the hierarchical and social practices of this deeply traditional community. As their affluence and influence grew, their homes merely multiplied the zones between the public and private spaces both vertically and horizontally. At the beginning of the 20th century, these mansions became unabashed expressions of maximalism! New imported materials were generously adopted: Burma teak, rose and sandalwood for ceilings, columns and doors, Mangalore tiles for roofs in place of locally made interlocking country tiles.

At their most lavish period, these adaptations became sometimes superfluous: where once simple and elegant, conical-shaped wooden columns greeted the visitor in the entrance verandahs, large parts of these columns now succumbed to extensive carving as if to leave no surface plain! Fronting the house and clearly visible from the street, upper halls, with columns and arcades, began to appear. Enclosed rooms were added on either end, some with domes, even extensions of wooden balconies. A parapet wall above these upper verandahs, in the style of balustrades displayed European style pots and vases and running foliage.

The entire treatment of the frontage, including overhangs above entrances at the street level, borrowed from European decor but used the locally grown moulded plasterwork technique; crested niches with Hindu gods were flanked by armed guardian figures and even peacocks and parrots. Beyond, courtyards were doubled, a separate dining hall and upper rooms appeared. All these extensions provided new spaces to be richly decorated. Inner wall surfaces were treated in what would become characteristic Chettinad egg-based plaster, locally made, colourful, geometric and floral, baked tiles covered the floors of entry hallways and passages, in others, imported black and white, Italian marble square tiles followed the fashionable trend. The alcoves above doors and windows, the friezes beneath the ceilings and the arches were decorated and painted vividly, some verandah walls were filled in with ceramic tiles.

Ceilings of large reception halls were entirely covered with floral tin metal tiles, English and Belgian glass chandeliers and mirrors that completed this imported decor. The result was eclectic. Colour, pattern, material and texture came together to create a unique aesthetic, authentic to the region of Chettinad.

From past to present

Spanning several centuries, these examples from the Deccan serve as an illustration and underscore the worldview of their inhabitants and indeed, those of the sub-continent even: vibrant, expressive, opulent, layered, ornate, in a word, maximalist. Unlike in the West, where the disruptive forces of two world wars birthed the modernist movement and signalled a complete break with the past, the vocabulary of design in India has remained a constant, more assimilation than mere continuity. Day after day, as custodians of a rich and deeply anchored heritage, our embroiderers articulate rhythms, gestures and movements, perpetuating a timeless tradition.

Read more: Anica Mann on the plural legacy of India