Before there is a dress, there is a pattern. On the transformation from construction to couture.
Before there is fashion, there is pattern. Painstaking and laborious, it is critical to garment making yet seldom a product on display.
Ashish Karmali’s creative pursuits are deeply rooted in Ramgarh, a small town in Jharkhand where he grew up. The twenty-three-year-old freelance designer, visual artist and illustrator, who lives in Delhi, channels the warmth of his home and draws inspiration from it.
For the Object fashion editorial, he began with a ‘family photo’ of his mother from the 1980s. She wore a georgette sari with ghungharoos on it. In the photograph, his mother is calm and poised—a moment frozen in time. The challenge for Karmali was to use the image to bridge the gap between the 80s and Indian fashion today.
Here he speaks to Object about his process. The conversation, edited for length and clarity, is below.
Ashish, how would you describe your art?
My work is very rooted in the experience of growing up in my hometown. My home is my muse, that helps me to execute my art. I consider my art as a medium where I express openly and freely and my approach is to challenge myself more and more.
As a child I was surrounded by women. I grew up in a joint family in Jharkhand. I've seen women work hard to take care of the family: they do all the household work while listening to the men in society. They do what the men want them to do. But women can be extremely powerful and resilient. It is this idea that I have portrayed in one of my designs called ‘Beneath the Veil.’
When art is rooted, it is much more powerful. I believe art should be this way, and not just aesthetic. That’s my idea.
So do you believe in something objective called beauty?
Not really, but I believe in the idea of the visual as a medium to express.
Do you feel alienated from the receivers of your art?
I definitely feel connected to my art. To the point that it gets very difficult for me to sell my art, because it is something that is deeply personal. That said, I would like those who are interested in seeing new things and exploring, those with a knack for taste, to validate me. It motivates me to create more.
But I have never felt alienated from the people who are looking at my work. I don’t want people looking at my work to know everything about it. I like the idea of a few things being personal, and keeping these things as a secret. Not everyone gets my work. Some ask ‘Oh, who will wear it?’ or ‘What is the use of this?’.
In a society obsessed with brands, what should art communicate?
Personally, my work is an expression of my experience and my knowledge: the things that I’ve grown up with. These impressions become part of my design process, and the work that I create as a final product. So every time somebody asks me to sell my work, I consider it but in the back of my head I feel like “No, I can't sell it because there’s just the one piece.”
I would be more happy for people to have my art as an artform, an installation or to wear it at a function. I don’t want my work to be mass produced per se. I want minimal pieces.
Would you say there is a ritual or a magic behind your art?
There is some degree of ritual. It comes naturally, being born in India and being introduced to its cultures and religions. But more than magic or ritual, it is the process that I enjoy the most.
I remember I made one swirling dress using Eva sheets. I was initially making the swirl in an even way from head to toe—entirely symmetrical. But then when I was making it, I left to get something else. And then I found that the sheets automatically gave me a new shape. I felt like this was nature’s way of telling me that the dress has to be this way. So, that’s what I went ahead with. It became something that I would never have expected to be so beautiful. Sometimes I just go with the flow.
Sarang Gupta
Sarang Gupta is a photographer based in Bombay.