“The City of Locks” is what caught my eye as I began browsing the culture and heritage of Aligarh. Famed the world over for its sturdy metal locks, Aligarh was the focus of my search because of an upcoming visit to the workshop of its brass craftsmens, magic makers who melt metal to sculpt emotions.
Thanks to a train route developed under British administrators who looked forward to controlling the commercial potential of the city, and the modern-day chair car that lets you lounge as you reach your destination, we reached Aligarh in one and a half hours.
Taking an e-rikshaw (an electronic three-wheeler that has become synonymous with Indian roads) that passed through the quintessential narrow lanes of the north Indian city, we finally arrived at the brass workshop, my shelter, and school for the day.
Upon entering the brass factory in Aligarh, I found a structure that was in no way fitting my definition of a “factory”.
With an uneven mud floor, a makeshift roof supported by steel pillars, walls painted with a thick layer of soot and dust on which hang the bags and clothes of the artists, and a portable stove on which the Kaarigars (craftsmens) were making their tea, the space looked more like a hastily developed village than a factory.
Sitting in their allotted spots, engaged in tasks in which they specialize after decades of practice and learning under masters, the craftsmens of this factory are what we in modern terms call “in-house artists”, dedicated to their factory and craft with all their skill and devotion which is as rare and heart-warming as the brass marvels they sculpt.
It was an unusual moment, of seeing the exquisite brass works being made, as if I was seeing a magician unveil the secrets of their greatest show.
Slowly walking, carefully as to not disturb the artist, avoiding standing too close to the flaming furnace (Bhatti), or stepping on the molten brass which time and again overflows from the mold, I began noticing each artist, specialist, engrossed in their work, and the apparent chaos started making sense.
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Having done a quick scan of the factory, I was assigned to Suresh Ji, the master artist of the workshop, a middle-aged man who has been in the field for 35 years and was to be our guide and interviewee.
Challenging the handbooks and rules of a “proper and formal interview”, we stood in the middle of the workshop, with the beats of the hammer and chisel and the song of the furnace giving us the perfect background score, as the artist narrated the tale of brass’s journey, from scrap to sculpture.
As I pressed the button on my phone to record the interview, Suresh Ji started by telling me an interesting fact. The raw material or brass scrap that comes to the factory is mostly the left-over part of the brass sheets from which keys are made in the local factories.
It struck me, that using the “waste” of one industry, was a truly sustainable thing, and how mastered are the hands that take hollow sheets of metal and transform them into masterpieces that rule the interiors of luxurious homes and grand hotels!
Once the brass is collected, the Kaarigar (craftsmen) assigned to the furnace room, a place whose heat competes with the afternoon sun of summer, begins melting the metal.
The container in which the brass is placed and put in the furnace has a thick layer of melted brass all over, all of which begins to burn and glow as it goes in the fire as if symbolizing the year-old craft of Aligarh, which comes to life and glows, every time the artist sets to the task of making a new art piece.
Simultaneously, a cast or Saancha of mud is prepared to contain the molten brass. Seeing the craftsmen pour melting brass into the cast, with the liquified metal sparkling like gold, is one of the most beautiful things, so much so that it makes you forget how dangerous it is for the artist to handle the melting metal!
Poured into the cast, brass slowly solidifies to fit the hollow space left in it. If it is a small statue or art piece, it is made using one cast, but if it is anything like the famed brass trees which are the newest sensations of the art decor world, each leaf, branch, and the birds sitting on them are cast separately and then tediously stitched together, like an artistic puzzle.
Things start to heat up once again, as the artist assigned to welding takes each piece, to melt and join them together, bringing the full piece to life.
Seeing a brass tree (one of the most popular and frequently made artworks of the workshop) being welded together while listening to the master artist proudly share the nitty-gritty of the process, I could not help but be mesmerized by the process- where the seed of brass is placed in mud (cast), nurtured with fire, and a golden tree slowly grows.
What comes out of the cast is far from the faultless art piece that we see as the finished product. Each piece has to go under the keen eye of an artist who removes excess metal, dirt, and debris from its surface, in a process which is locally known as “Ritai” or chasing, followed by polishing, where the metal is placed against a swiftly moving wheel, to give it a distinctive golden shine.
As caretakers and nurturers of art that have a global fan following, the artists of this workshop take special pride in taking their sweet time to finish these steps, making every part of the artwork undergo chasing and polishing several times before they deem it fit to reach the next artist.
As students who had finished their preliminary education and were found fit to receive specialized training, we were now guided toward a corner of the workshop, where the sculptor was sitting, with spectacles placed on his nose and hands lyrically moving on the artwork, adding finer details, textures, and patterns to its surface, the next step of the brass art-making process.
With the kindness of a teacher, not irritated by the interruption we caused in his meditative task, he showed us the different nails or Chaini used in this process called Chitai, which results in differing textures of the metal.
Some of the names of the nails- Naakhun (nail), Zameen (ground), Dudhi (milky one, nail with a square tip) were the cause of much intrigue for me, however, with flying colors, the nail that won the race of the most interesting name is “Brahmastra”, named after the mythical weapon of the Hindu god Brahma.
I wondered- holding the Brahmastra (nail) in his grip, adding eyes, nose, lips, jewelry, hair, and other details of the sculptures, does the artist, for the moments he is working on his art, feel like Brahma, the Creator, creating his artistic universe?
Once the finer work is done, the torch is lit once again to join the pieces broken or damaged during their long journey from the cast to the sculptor. Like a human, facing the pressure, scraping, and heat of life, the artwork at this point has lost its regular shine.
Bathing the brass in kerosene thus becomes a vital step, along with acid wash, a rub of sawdust, and a final cleaning with a brush, giving finishing touches to the art piece.
Just as our interview with the master artist reached its end, we saw a middle-aged woman carrying a Jhola (cloth bag), walking toward us. She stood near the artist and addressed him with a sweet “Radhe-Radhe” (a local way of greeting one another, using the name of Hindu goddess Radha, the beloved of Krishna).
Responding to her with a smile, Suresh Ji asked her what she had got him for lunch. At that moment, I was reminded of an obvious yet often overlooked fact, that these “artists”, the great “maestros” that preserve our culture, are also people, men with families- who accompany them, depend on them and support them.
As Suresh Ji introduced the woman to us as his wife, I naturally asked him about his family. He told us about his kids. “I have opened a shop (for selling brass works) for them.” So, will the skill inherited by him not be passed on to the next generation? No.
The sculptor, an expert in Chitai (carving) and trained under Suresh Ji in the workshop, came to the factory 3-4 months after it opened. Whatever he earns with his skills, he is happy to take home to send his two daughters to school and feels his “Bhai Ji” (elder brother, the owner of the workshop) is a good man, with whom he is happy to have worked for 15 years.
Most of the artists of the workshop have been doing their specialized work for more than a decade and are content with the results
When told that their work is admired by clientele living in the U.S.A., Europe, and other foreign countries, often collectively referred to in local north India as “Pardes” or “Videsh”, the artists smile knowingly, with a hint of shyness, like a young person aware but reminded of their beauty.
Conscious of the fact that their art, the skills they have mastered by quite literally giving their blood and sweat, will probably “die”, and perish with them, the artist put all their soul into the pieces they prepare, with an immovable focus that can put sages to shame.
“Mehnat to karni padti hai, Mehnat karne ko kabhi pareshani nahi kahte”- “We do have to work hard, but one should not call it trouble. Working hard is never trouble”, said Suresh Ji, while showing us one of his newest pieces, an intricately made brass tree.
“What matters for me in art is to make one forget material…Art is invisible”. The famed Italian sculptor Medardo Rosso has been credited with this beautiful statement. What he meant, is probably what we experienced surrounded by the brass artworks and artists in that workshop.
Even after seeing them work with the molten and solid metal, the mind could not comprehend what the eyes saw. The degree of skill each artist puts into his work, creating poetry in metal, makes one question the solidity of brass, which bends, molds, and transforms like water with the artist’s touch.
In the company of the artists of Aligarh, we could see the invisible art in their focus, contentment, and a spirit of dedication towards their work, which burns brighter than their furnaces.
And though like all good things, our time in their workshop ended, the art and artists of Aligarh will stay with us.
Now every time I see a tree made of brass, I am not reminded of its material or aesthetics, but a few people in the heart of a historical northern town, who know how to grow a tree with just fire, brass, and a few tools!
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