At first glance, the textiles in the ‘Threads that Bind’ exhibition look like art pieces meant for the wall—vivid surfaces of stitched colour and layered fabrics, with lines that seem almost painterly. But in every stitch lies something far older—the Bengali domestic tradition of Kantha embroidery.
Curated by designer Amit Vijaya, the exhibition brings together artisans, designers and craft collectives to revisit the essence of Kantha—the philosophy of reuse, storytelling and community. It showcases pieces made from used textiles, turning them into jackets, home textiles and framed works. Beginning on March 11 at Gallery Vayu in Lodhi Garden, the exhibition will be on view until March 20.
A craft born at home
The word ‘Kantha’ comes from Sanskrit, meaning rags. Historically, in rural Bengal, women layered worn-out cotton saris and stitched them together with simple running stitches to make quilts, cushion covers and other household textiles.
Today, Vijaya notes that Kantha is widely associated with decorative running stitches applied to new fabrics. But the exhibition attempts to bring attention back to the craft’s original essence of upcycling and storytelling.
The Kantha project began nearly three years ago when Meera Goradia, co-chair of Creative Dignity (CD), an artisan ecosystem, and craft advocate Sonia Bhandari, a member of CD, invited Vijaya and Richard Pandav—his design partner at their label AmRich—to explore a craft tradition they felt closely connected to.
For Vijaya, the embroidery carries cultural and emotional significance. Originally from Kolkata and now based in Delhi, he has long worked within the craft sector and felt the technique was often misunderstood.
“People think Kantha just means running stitches on any fabric,” he says. “But the real essence is recycling old textiles and turning them into something meaningful for the home. It was always done as something made out of love, with no commercial value attached to it.”
For the project, Vijaya travelled across Bengal, Odisha and Bihar, meeting artisans and collaborating with organisations that champion artisanal Kantha production, including Utsako, Weavers Studio and Mahua Natural Fabrics. Old textiles donated by members of the CD network were also incorporated into several works, reinforcing the exhibition’s emphasis on reuse.
Rather than producing commercial items in large quantities, the collaborators focused on creating one-of-a-kind works that carry the labour, imagination and stories of many hands. “These are not commercial products but art pieces because we wanted to create pieces that were of high value—not monetarily but emotionally,” he says.
Tradition meets experimentation
In earlier times, Kantha quilts held deep personal meaning within households—each stitch captured fragments of domestic life: a lotus from the pond outside the house, fish from nearby waters, or flowers blooming in the courtyard.
“It was never planned. A woman might stitch a tree one day because she saw it outside her hut, and the next day she might add flowers she noticed blooming. But when the piece was finished, it always felt beautifully composed,” Vijaya explains.
While traditional Kantha relied on cotton thread pulled from old saris, contemporary artisans sometimes incorporate brighter acrylic yarns, producing surfaces that resemble modern folk or even pop art. The show, Vijaya explains, pushes Kantha into new territory. Some pieces reinterpret classic motifs—like lotus flowers or chevron borders—through contemporary compositions. In one work, a traditional chevron pattern known as Lahori Kantha is transformed into a hypnotic design reminiscent of pop art.
“We would like other people to take this on and take this forward in a way where you could rethink Kantha—it doesn’t have to be ethnic or folk,” he adds.
The exhibition also gestures toward related global traditions, drawing references from Japanese techniques such as Boro and Sashiko stitching, as well as Korean Pojagi patchwork, which share a similar philosophy of mending and piecing textiles. Though not directly used in the works, their influence appears in the visual language of some pieces.
Kantha has historically been the work of women—often done in moments between daily responsibilities, during the afternoon lull or while chatting with neighbours. During research trips to places like Shantiniketan and Birbhum, Vijaya encountered many artisans continuing this legacy today. Increasingly, the craft has also become a source of income. “It was amazing to see how dynamic these women are,” Vijaya says. “For many of them, Kantha gives financial independence and confidence.”
Many artisans now organise themselves collectively. Some have become entrepreneurs—managing orders via WhatsApp, sharing images with buyers and coordinating production for craft fairs such as Surajkund Mela.
In an era dominated by fast fashion and textile waste, Kantha’s philosophy feels especially relevant. Its foundation lies in extending the life of cloth—repairing, layering and transforming what already exists rather than discarding it.