Filmy costumes for mythological/historical figures in Raghuvir Mulgaokar’s 1953 paintings/calendar art.
Pic 1: Mastani – this outfit aka a kameez that has a tight fitted bodice and skirt and the jhoomar for the hair is both particular to films and also late 19th century.
Pic 2 (below pic 1): Padmini – kind of Hindi film does Rajasthani costumes.
Pic 3: Devayani – a flowing dress with a girdle (or sometimes a sari) is often used to depict mythological figures.
For awhile (in the 50s I think), Sudhir Khastgir painted a number of dancing figures. Here are two:
Sudhir Khastgir, Dancing Figure, 1962. The lower panels indicate the earrings and forehead ornament, a little bit of the knotted ponytail, bangles and the girdle.
Another painting by Khastagir (1957). Unfortunately I have lost the source and my notes on this.
Part of a series on costumes as seen in Indian art.
Weaving had a special significance for Bendre, who taught it together with painting and papier mache while in Baroda in the 1950’s. He painted several works over the years that depict women engaged in different methods of weaving; from sitting at a loom or behind a spinning wheel. This painting from 1987 shows a young girl sitting at a loom that is typical of the weavers in Arunachal Pradesh. [X].
Note: So is the costume, especially the shawl.
Indian costumes in N.S. Bendre’s paintings: 1 & 2) bordered saris of Bengal and Central/Northern India 3) Kullu costume (X) 4) Western India 5) Kerala 6) the salwar-kameez.
I have been reading a couple of books on Indian costumes and thought I would write a bit about two of them.
Queen Subada, Detail from Shahnamah, Sultanate School, 1450.
Costume Details:
Phiran: of transparent material, form-fitting and ankle length, has two embroidered vertical panels along the length and sleeves.
Odhni: of sheer material, fringed, draped over the head around the neck and shoulders.
Sulwar: tight fitting white pyjamas
Hairstyle: long, worn in a plait ending in a decorative tassel.
Hair ornaments: of pearls, have many strings and loops suspended from the head of the Queen.
Necklace: many stringed gold necklace edged with pearls, and a smaller necklace with a ruby pendant.
Bangles: of graded sizes of gold and pearls.
Baldric: gold and pearl baldric, like a chain, is worn over the right shoulder and under the left arm.
Anklets of gold and pearls.Indian elements: odhni, bare feet, bare/visible torso, some of the ornaments.
From Roshen Alkazi’s Medieval Indian Costume (India and Central Asia). The tale referred to is the Shahnameh and the character is Sudabeh (I am assuming the name is modified in the Indian version). The illustrative style draws a bit on Jaina texts of the period.
This is a doorstopper of a book with great visuals and illustrations that covers an intermediate period of Indian history, starting with Mahmud of Ghazni and ending somewhere around the time of Babur. There aren’t too many costume resources for this period but Alkazi draws on Indian and foreign texts (largely Central Asia and Iran and both Islamic and Buddhist influences) to show the kinds of costumes that were prevalent and the intermingling of styles. It is a little more focussed on parts of India that came under Islamic rulers but covers a lot of ground.
Alkazi’s research was for theatre productions and it is really extensive. Some of the plays are listed at Natrang Pratishthan.
See also X, details of these costumes are also discussed in the book.
Illustrations from Tarla Mehta’s book on Sanskrit Drama Production. The plays are:
1) Kalidasa’s Vikramōrvaśīyam, the figures on either side are Pururavas and Urvashi, in the middle a charioteer.
2) Bhavabhuti’s Uttararamacharitram, the figures L to R are Sita, Rama, Tamasa and Vasanti.
3) Śūdraka‘s Mṛcchakaṭika, the figures are a maid, Vasantasena and Aryaka.
The illustrations are drawn from various friezes, sculptures and the Ajanta frescoes. Again a very informative book that would be interesting to drama students.
A bit of trivia, the author is the aunt of Ratna and Supriya Pathak. Also the amount of research done by theater folk on costumes is very comprehensive – I have already referred to Roshen Alkazi, there is this book and so many more!
From a series of posts I did the week of 13 July 2015-17 July 2015.
Saraswati painted by Hishida Shunsō [X, X]
Flute Player (1) and Esraj Player (2), Nandalal Bose. Both were painted in 1937 and were commissioned by MK Gandhi for Indian National Congress Party meeting 1938, Haripura.
Playing the veena, January 1956.Both blouse and sari are typical of the decade.
Kesarbai Kerkar was born on 13 July in 1892. These beautiful screencaps from a piece on Kesarbai Kerkar featuring her great grand niece, Shalaka Kerkar. Pic 1 includes a photograph of Kesarbai, probably taken in the 1910s (see also X). The song of pic 2 here.
Down South in the land of Tyagaraja, where the prevailing voices always had a chesty timbre, Lata clones sang shrieking into the night in every language. Even Bengali voices, which only a few years earlier reflected the honeyed textures of Kanan Bala, abandoned their inheritance and joined the Lata bandwagon. Raghava Menon (1989) quoted in Cassette Culture: Popular Music and Technology in North India, Peter Manuel.
A particular kind of female voice, best embodied by the Mangeshkar sisters, held sway in India for much of the latter half of the 20th century in so far as film music was concerned. The voices in the 30s and 40s are much more varied (and of course actresses often sang their own songs). In the latter half of the 20th century there are a few scattered singers who have distinctive voices but whose output was limited at least by way of film songs.
Some of the early singers are documented at womenonrecord.
In the photoset 1) The Karnataki sisters, Amirbai and Gauharbai 2) singer and flautist M. Saraswathi 3) Geeta Dutt (well known but not as prolific as the Mangeshkar sisters 4) Kamala Sista and Sharda 5) Chhaya Ganguli.
As always the clothes and styling embody the decade 1) 1930s 2) 1940s 3) 1950s 4) 1960s 5) late 1970s/early 1980s.
Covers of Chandamama Magazine. Pic 1: 1957, Pic 2: 1979, Pic 3: 1987 (Hindi), Pic 4: 1968 (Telugu), Pic 3: 1979 (Bengali), Pic 4: 1980 (Bengali),
Some of the covers really require a Women in Art History deconstruction (though no one can do it better than Mallory). The Urvashi of pic 5 is Nope, not taking you with me, Pic 6looks mighty pleased at her order delivery and Pic 5 is nope that long sheathed sword is that overcompensation. Even the Savitri of Pic 1 is like OK…. what fresh hell is this.
As someone on tumblr pointed out the illustrations are a little more lurid and voluptuous than those on Amar Chitra Katha.
Interestingly in the 1970s there are a number of covers that portray foreign stories. Though Chandamama (Uncle Moon) always carried a tales from afar kind of section it is rare to see a cover dedicated to the story but this seems to have been the norm in the 1970s before changing in the 1980s.
Anyone who has read Chandamama will also remember the serialised Vikram and Vetal stories (vetala is commonly translated as vampire). They are present in the 1950s Chandamamas (Plate 1) but the beginning sentence of Dark was the night etc. is seen from the late 70s editions onwards (Plate 2). The illustration is pretty consistent over the decades.
I do not think a Gupta emperor would have worn this Rajput ensemble but we will let that pass:)
Vintage Chandamama is available online here.
For a lot of us in India at one time Comic = Amar Chitra Katha.
My nieces are Australian so their book cupboard is wash with princess stories, fairy stories, Peppa Pig, Horrid Henry and the like. The Indian comics they are gifted tend to be mythological and they haven’t quite taken to them. Given their princess obsession I decided to take a few comics on princesses but it went down like a lead balloon.
Two of the comics were Vasavadatta and Manonmani. We had a bit of a discussion on their costumes but they didn’t find it very interesting (they are 7 and 4), here the two heroines wear a knotted breast band known as the kancuka or kurpasaka.
Suddenly they have turned avid readers and the turning point was to The Magic Grove. I guess a girl with a magic garden that follows her around and does her bidding was irresistible. The red and gold costume of Aramashobha dislodged their love of the blue and white of Frozen and Cinderella for a few days.
The artists behind Amar Chitra Katha are little known but the artwork can be quite distinctive even as the costuming basics remain the same. This set is from a bound series on ancient classics and the artists for each comic are listed below. Interestingly the covers are by different artists.
Pic 1: Malati and Madhava. Illustrator: Pratap Mullick.
Pic 2: Malavika. Illustrator: PB Kavadi
pic 3: Kadambari. Illustrator: MR Fernandes
Pic 4: Nagananda. Illustrator: MN Nangare.
See also X.
Similarly the faces are strong and distinctive. And captivating. Seen above, pic 1 & 2- Parvati, Pic 3-Dharini from Malavika and 4. Sati.
The regional details are often captured in the comics. Like North & South. The Instant Wedding, Ancient Indian Style. As illustrated by Amar Chitra Katha!
The comics: Shakuntala and Manonmani. The latter is a historical verse novel written in 1892 by P. Sundaram Pillai and set in the time of the Pandyas. I am impressed that they did this title given that I have barely been able to locate an English translation for the book.
There are also a lot of subtle details once you start looking at the drawings closely, like you would think Marimekko prints were around in Sita’s time. More likely the comic dates from the 1970s when large flower print saris were around:)
India’s Immortal Comic Books: Gods, Kings and Other heroes by Karline McLain is a pretty interesting book and goes into some detail on the costuming choices for the Amar Chitra Katha comics. Which are based on historical costumes but also simplify it and have a unifying aesthetic given the comic book genre.
The red glow of her body, like an unfolding bud.
Her black rimmed eyes like flowers, her skin like gold.
Who can see your face in the moonlight, like milk in milk.
Her lustrous complexion like a blue sapphire.
Fair as champaka flowers.
Dusky young lady with sweet speech and lovely face, Broad hips, body painted with excellent sandal paste.
Her face is like the moon, (Just so).
In the poem ‘Madhuvan’, while describing the beauty of the face of a lady, the poet chooses the reddish objects like the pink morning, the reddish new leaf, the blush on the cheek, the pink lotus, the rose, the blood, the flame coloured Palash.
Colour, fragrance and softness all merge in her; a rose petal on her cheeks loses its identity.
Her hue is golden and the saffron paste mingles indistinguishably with her complexion, only its fragrance proves its existence.
Karpuraturistha – fair as camphor.
She is blue-complexioned and beautiful in every limb, having applied the sixteen elements of make-up.
Her nails bright as burnished copper.
The dark, divine maiden with great chastity.
The word used for ‘dark colour’ is shyama (deep green), and for indicating redness ‘lohita’.
There are many ways to describe skin colour in India. Limitations of language in translation notwithstanding Indian poets, never shy of employing a simile, appear to draw on an imagery that includes saffron, sandalwood, camphor, sapphire, copper and more. Similarly miniature painting employs a number of skin tints, especially when it comes to the raginis. So it is a little sad that these days we are stuck with the polarities of gora/kala (fair/dark) with saavla/gehua/maanaram/”wheatish” to describe everything in between.
Pics: Todi Ragini (1), Jaipur courtesan (2), Indian women at a well (3), Standing figure under a kadamb tree (4), 18th century, Mandi (5), Untitled, B. Prabha (6).
Tamil caption loosely translated: The two men in the background sporting a kudumi – “We are now fashionable (or fashion has taken inspiration from us). No one dare tease us anymore.” from Ananda Vikatan, 1962.
I also found this illustration while doing the posts and it made me laugh a little since I *might* have this woman’s hairstyle at the moment.
The blouse with a wide V and three quarters sleeves is very late 50s/early 60s.
When I was composing the hair posts, my brother, Shiv, decided to do an illustration of Jabakusum Hair Oil for the blog. Here is the illustration:
He joined tumblr to post it (hinotoridawn) but I don’t think he quite likes the site as yet:)
Vintage Indian Clothing 
