The Song of The Looms
A soft melody floats out of a room at Aspinwall House, pulling you towards it. You drift towards the intriguing tune, familiar yet unique – you can’t quite recognize the instrument. As you finally trace your steps towards the rising sound of the tune, your curiosity grows and the minute you see it, you halt in awe – much like all the fellow enthusiasts around you. In 2018, the Kochi – Muziris Biennale presented the String Loom, a musical instrument designed by Mexican artist Tania Candiani. Known for her multidisciplinary works, Tania attempted to transform a traditional weaving loom into a musical instrument. Tania’s vision of breathing life back into a loom found in disrepair was achieved and put together by luthiers and musicians Carlos Chincillas, Ranesh Raju and Vijaya Murali.
Ranesh, a 36 year old Kochi-based guitarist, could be seen demonstrating the workings of the String Loom for the visitors of the Biennale. “Tania had sent us photos along with instructions of what she wanted, almost a month before we started assembling the instrument. Carlos Chinchillas, a Mexican musician assisting Tania, Vinay Murali, a local violin maker and I worked on it together. We started off by sourcing for the additional material needed to complete the instrument, other than the loom. Once we started working on site, it took us about 20 days to complete the entire design,” Ranesh says, explaining, “We didn’t want to tamper with the aesthetics of the loom or the idea behind the machinery, but simply repurpose it to produce music. So, we replaced the threads of the loom with 69 sitar strings and integrated sound boxes made of birch wood into the original design,” he says, and goes on to play a mellifluous tune. “The tuning of the instrument is what makes it unique and therefore it was one of the most important aspects of the design. For that, we added guitar bridges at the top and the bottom to adjust the tone and to ensure that various styles of music can be played on it,” says Ranesh, attempting to simplify the process.
However, the String Loom is not just an artistic marvel; it is a window to a tradition that once thrived in Kerala, but was slowly diminishing in the age of commercialization. Tania and her team not only gave a new life and function to an old machine, they went on to tell a deeper story, to those willing to listen. Hidden in the notes floating out of the String Loom, is the picture of a lush green town, the clicking sound of a loom and the smell of yarn and dye. Sitting approximately 35 Km away from Kochi is the small town of Chendamangalam, famous for its weaving community. For centuries, almost every resident of this town has grown up learning the art of weaving. But on a night of August 2018, destruction came knocking, in the form of torrential rains and grave floods that along with taking away livelihoods, severely impacted the weaving community, irreparably damaging several looms. Bina, a weaver at the Khadi Production Centre (Gandhi Smarak Grama Seva Kendram) recounts the events of the night they had to leave everything behind, “It had been raining for days, but when we were asked to evacuate, it all happened so fast. We grabbed whatever necessities we could and everyone gathered at a nearby school that was set up as a relief center. Few days after the rains subsided and the water receded, we thought that we could finally return to our homes. Instead we returned to a devastation we had never faced before.” The aftermath of the flood had not only wrecked their homes, it had destroyed most of the machinery in the looms along with their yarn and stock.
Abha, yet another weaver at the Chendamangalam Handloom Society talks about the massive destruction they had to encounter, “Our looms were on the verge of being wiped out. The receding flood waters had left behind wet clay in the looms, spoiling the yarn and rotting the wood. There was no way they could be salvaged. Our stock was not only wet but also dripping with water, the bottom was covered in wet clay and it was starting to turn black due to mold,” she says. “Most of the wooden parts of the looms were spoiled beyond repair. Only the frames from some of them could be salvaged, so we took apart some parts and the rest simply had to be discarded,” she says pointing to the large dusty pile of broken wooden pieces stacked in the corner of the room, waiting to be disposed. “For a while, we believed that that it would be an impossible task to revive our industry and tradition. After all, Onam is our biggest sale season and the floods hit us just two weeks before that, destroying everything in its wake,” she exclaims. “But we were not ready to give up. It is our identity and our culture, hence our responsibility to uphold it and prevent it from dying,” says Abha with a fierce smile.
And behind her smile lies the proof of a collective determination that not only brought the town of Chendamangalam together but it spurred on a ripple throughout the nation. Within a fortnight, they proved to be a model for resurgence, reviving the looms at a pace that was believed to be unimaginable. Support for this weaving community trickled in from NGOs and people’s collectives from across the country. Soon, the world took note of the magnitude of their issue and social media was flooded with the story of this town and more contributions poured in; on which the society could depend for restoration work. Several companies such as Bajaj Electricals, Bharat Petroleum Corporation Ltd, Cochin Shipyard Ltd also joined the initiative and pooled in funds apportioned for CSR activities (Corporate Social responsibility). Thus, from the echoes of this hardship rose a community that in spite of stumbling never lost their hope of a revival, fought on and came back stronger.
