When the Museo Internacional del Barroco opened its doors in Puebla earlier this year, art lovers and historians around the world let out a collective gasp. For the museum, dedicated to all things baroque, did more than justice to the complexities and imperfections of the art form. Baroque, a word that stems from the Portuguese definition of an imperfect, monstrous pearl, may seem like an aberration in Puebla, which is Mexico’s fourth-largest city and has a Unesco World Heritage Site for its heart. “But it’s a ‘monster’ created by God, and God loves the monsters he creates,” says Jorge Alberto Lozoya, Mexican diplomat and executive secretary of the State Council of Culture and Arts of the State of Puebla.
The $105-million sculptural museum with the fluted white walls and water-filled courtyard, designed by Pritzker Prize-winning Japanese architect Toyo Ito, is the perfect venue for all that is new in the baroque vision. Just like the ‘Neobaroque Maharajas’, the grand exhibition at the museum of Indian royal costumes recreated and revived by Ahmedabad-based designer and textile revivalist Umang Hutheesing.
It’s apt that Indian textiles are part of the museum’s opening exhibition, as they complete the circle of India’s links with Mexico. In the 16th century, trade links with Asia brought to this Mexican city Indian artefacts, motifs, fabrics, and spices. “We have an important past,” says Lozoya, “and we want to have a significant future, a dynamic one.”
The show has 300 gorgeous pieces of clothing draped on 48 mannequins. As Hutheesing walks us around the exhibits that recreate glorious eras in India’s regal textile past, he points to a light haldi Rajput angrakha (tunic) worn with pajamas marked by weave and embroidery. “With the Islamic influences, came the choga (overcoat) that people wore in the Mughal court. This one is of pattan silk.” The designer has combined the choga with a chaand tara motif, to show the Islamic influence. We move away from the Islamic influence to enter the space with European-inspired pieces, like the fitted sherwani. And then there is a Hutheesing favourite, the cape originally worn by Spaniards, especially King Philip II. “I’m using it to connect with Mexico,” he says, pointing to a mannequin wearing a sari with a cape and sporting a tiara. Another wears a golden chanderi silk angrakha with 181 kalis, topped by a cape.
To create these magnificent garments, Hutheesing has used rich velvet silks, Benarasi brocades and kimkhab from Gujarat for his canvas, and an era-specific vocabulary for the motifs. “Florals and badaam (paisley) in the Rajput and Maratha costumes are Hindu; the chaand is Islamic,” he explains. Each piece is designed by Hutheesing and brought to life by artisans, who have reconceptualized each piece from the past. “We had our own poshakkhanas (ateliers) when we were growing up,” he says of the Hutheesing Design Company, which was formed in 1881 as a public works project to give employment to people fleeing from the famine in Gujarat.
No garment is repeated. “I don’t make two of anything,” he says. “And none of my exhibition pieces is for sale.” The bespoke pieces that he does sell, around 40 a year, are for clients from royal families around the world. He’s tight-lipped about money matters but says, “But when a museum like this one finances my collection, I’m overjoyed.”
And why not? Hutheesing is the only Asian designer with 300 pieces showing in world museums, including the National Museum of Bahrain. Soon he will have something similar in Japan too, a feat that even Japanese couturier Issey Miyake has not managed. Now if that isn’t baroque, we don’t know what is.