In back-of-beyond Molela, an hour’s drive from Udaipur in Rajasthan, master potter Jamnalal Kumhar sits outside his modest home crafting clay figures. Votive panels of gods and goddesses, as well as figures of horses and other animals, are lined up against the walls in his courtyard. What sets this village’s pottery apart is its deep spiritual significance—its clay figures are crafted for worship and are commissioned by communities that believe these sacred images will protect their villages. The 58-year-old soft-spoken man offers kulhads of freshly brewed chai to the visitors. Over the past 30 years, he has emerged as the face of Molela pottery, having participated in a number of exhibitions in India and abroad, such as the Kalagram Crafts Fair, the National Institute of Design, Ahmedabad, the Academy of Fine Arts, Prague, and the Frida Steinburger Exhibition, Israel.
For 16 generations, Jamnalal’s family has crafted these sacred figures. “There was never a formal process of learning. As children, we simply helped our parents—shaping clay, firing kilns, or collecting raw materials. It was a way of life,” he smiles.
The terracotta panels and sculptures of Molela are commissioned by tribal communities such as the Bhils, Gujjars, and Garijats from Rajasthan, Gujarat, and Madhya Pradesh. The busiest time for the potters is around Magh (mid-January to mid-February) and Vaisakh (April-May), when families arrive with their priests, or bhopas to select the appropriate idol. The chosen piece is then painted with natural colours and blessed before being taken back to the village shrine.
What makes Molela’s terracotta art distinctive is its technique. The potters create handcrafted, hollow relief plaques rather than free-standing sculptures. Using basic clay modelling techniques such as pinching, coiling, and squeezing, they shape figures onto flat clay slabs. Cow dung and dawrigund gum from local trees are used to bind the clay. The process requires days of meticulous drying to prevent collapse before the pieces are sun-dried and fired. Once a panel is selected by a client, the potters use natural stone and mineral colours. To achieve a shine, a lacquer coat known locally as Jala is applied.
The clay itself is sourced from the nearby Banas River. Each potter has his own spot for digging based on his own previous experiences. “There is something sacred about our village clay. It is perfect for this work,” says Jamnalal.
As modernisation creeps in, traditional artisans like Jamnalal face an uncertain future. While decorative pottery has found a market among tourists, the sacred craft of votive terracotta remains niche. Today, Jamnalal’s two sons and a daughter-in-law are continuing the craft ahead. He also conducts workshops at the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya in Mumbai (which also has his terracotta panels on its walls).
Is he confident that a craft to which generations of his family have devoted themselves will survive the modern world? He shrugs, “It is not in our hands. Whatever is meant to happen will.”