From Brushstrokes to Digital Blows: The Struggle to Save Kashmir’s Hand-Painted Boards
Kashmir’s hand-painted boards, once vibrant symbols of the region’s artistic heritage, are increasingly overshadowed by modern digital printing. As traditional artisans struggle to keep their craft alive, efforts to preserve this fading art form offer a glimmer of hope.
By: Amaan Rasheed, Nazakat Aslam, and Faria Bhat
The Do Bhai Advertisers shop, established in 1984, stands as a nostalgic symbol of Kashmir’s hand-painted artistry. What was once a bustling workshop creating vibrant, hand-painted boards is now a quiet testament to a fading craft. (Faria Bhat)
Srinagar, June 28, 2024 — Shakeel Ahmad Khan, a 58-year-old man, stands in his dimly lit workshop, surrounded by the fading aroma of paint and the remnants of his once-thriving business. His fingers, once skillful and confident, now move slowly over the last hand-painted board he might ever create.
“I’ve been in this field since childhood,” Khan reflects, his voice laced with both pride and sorrow. “This is more than just work to me; it’s my identity.”
History and Decline of this Art Form
Kashmir’s hand-painted boards, using both English and Urdu, reflect the region’s rich culture with their detailed designs and skilled craftsmanship. As digital printing becomes more common, this special art form faces the risk of disappearing, losing its unique character and traditional appeal. (Amaan Rasheed)
Kashmir has long been renowned for its vibrant visual arts, where Urdu, English, and Persian languages beautifully converge on hand-painted boards. These durable boards, often made of wood or metal, feature meticulously painted scripts and motifs that represent the diverse culture of Kashmir. Beyond serving as practical signage, they are cultural artefacts that hold great significance in the community, symbolising the region’s unique identity and artistic heritage.
Today, however, the advent of digital printing is swiftly pushing this traditional craft towards extinction. Modern techniques offer speed and cost-efficiency, but at the expense of individuality and the artistic touch.
Artist’s Perspective
Khan shares his journey of mastering hand-painted advertising, which began in Delhi and flourished back in Kashmir. With over 40 years of experience, each board he has created reflects his dedication to the art. (Faria Bhat)
Khan’s journey began when he went to Delhi to hone his skills, before returning to Kashmir to continue the tradition of hand-painted advertising.
In 1984, he, along with a friend, established Do Bhai Advertisers. “I named this place Do Bhai because my friend and I started it together. Though we chose different paths later, the name stayed,” he recalls.
In the golden days of his business, Khan made thousands of hand-painted boards every year. “Each of them (board) was a piece of art, and was crafted with care and creativity,” Khan says.
An artist carefully paints a board, showing the unique touch that makes these signs beloved in the community. Each piece takes time and dedication to complete. (Nazakat Aslam)
The boards used to stand out so much that they became landmarks in their own right. “They were cherished by the community for their unique beauty and personal touch,” he adds.
But now, with the advent of faster, cheaper digital printing, Khan remains deeply concerned about the future of his craft. “Any board could be my last hand-painted one,” he says with a touch of sadness. “In today’s fast-paced world, no one has the time to appreciate art. Each piece I create might be the last of its kind.”
The Impact of Modern Technology
Cheap and Fragile: Flex boards may be cost-effective, but their lack of individuality and durability starkly contrasts with the rich, handcrafted heritage of traditional hand-painted signs. (Nazakat Aslam)
The rise of digital printing has significantly affected artisans like Khan. “We had exceptional artists who worked globally, but with the introduction of flex boards, their talents went silent,” he explains. Mass production using machines has led to job losses and a sense of purposelessness among artisans.
Local Perspective
A visitor at an epigraphy exhibition looks at detailed text samples, showcasing the rich artistry of traditional signs compared to modern digital prints. (Amaan Rasheed)
Ridhwan Shafi, a 27-year-old engineer and former type designer, remembers the hand-painted boards fondly. “Growing up, I walked through the Bund near Polo View in Srinagar, captivated by signs of handicraft shops like ‘Suffering Moses.’ These signs were functional but also added a unique charm to the road,” he says.
Shafi believes digital prints, while convenient, lack the personal touch and individuality of hand-painted signs. “Each hand-painted board is a labour of love, showcasing the artist’s creativity and skill. Printed boards are standardised and impersonal, leading to a cultural loss,” he adds.
Efforts to Preserve the Heritage
Despite the challenges, efforts are underway to preserve this endangered art form. Kashmir Type Hunt (KTH), an open community project, aims to preserve and promote traditional Kashmiri design.
Founded by three young designers, Kashmir Type Hunt is dedicated to raising awareness, preserving hand-painted boards, and helping artists keep their craft alive in the digital age. (Amaan Rasheed)
Co-founded by Waqar Qamri, Shariq Shah, and Waseeq Mir, three young designers, the initiative seeks to safeguard the visual heritage of Kashmir.
“The main idea was to preserve our visual heritage,” Qamri says. “In Kashmir, you see Nastaleek and Naskh scripts alongside Devanagari and Latin. Each artist brings their unique style to the boards, reflecting our rich cultural heritage.”
Building an Archive
KTH is creating an online library where anyone can upload photos of hand-painted signs, allowing the community to contribute to the preservation effort. “It acts as an open source library for anyone to use for their projects, research, or just to have a look at it,” Qamri explains.
Apart from this, KTH also organises walks throughout Kashmir on a regular basis. ” Our typewalks offer an immersive journey through Kashmir’s visual heritage, educating participants and documenting the unique typefaces that narrate our region’s story,” says Qamri.
Engaging the Community and Overcoming Challenges
Waqar Qamri, 26, briefs KTH members before a ‘type walk’ in Srinagar, advancing efforts to preserve traditional Kashmiri signage. These walks, held regularly, aim to educate the community and document unique typefaces. (Amaan Rasheed)
“We utilise Instagram, a website, and a Discord channel to connect to our audience,” Waqar says. However, explaining their work to locals and police during ‘type walks’ has been challenging. “We had to clarify and simplify it as a project.”
Despite these hurdles, the community’s response has been largely positive, and the initiative has gained significant traction. Presenting their work at Typographics NYC has been a notable achievement for the KTH team. “It was amazing to introduce Kashmir’s design to a global audience,” Qamri shares. “They genuinely appreciated our work.”
Looking ahead, Qamri and his team plan to further support the craft by commissioning hand-painted sign creators to design typefaces that can be digitised and sold. “This will not only help preserve the art form but also provide a new revenue stream for the artists,” he adds.
The Road Ahead
A passerby walks past an iconic shop in Polo View, Srinagar, adorned with a beautifully hand-painted sign. The shop’s sign, an example of the lasting beauty and durability of traditional hand-painted craftsmanship, stands out amidst modern signage. (Faria Bhat)
The future of hand-painted boards in Kashmir remains uncertain. While digital and flex boards dominate the market, the efforts of preservationists like Kashmir Type Hunt offer a glimmer of hope.
Shakeel Ahmad Khan’s reflections underscore the urgency of these efforts: “If there’s no immediate intervention from stakeholders, this art form will become nothing more than a memory.”
Yet, the passion and dedication of those who value this art form may still keep it alive for future generations.
As Shakeel stands in his workshop, surrounded by the tools of his trade, he remains a symbol of resilience and hope. “No matter how things change,” he says quietly, almost to himself, “there will always be a place for the beauty of hand-painted art in my heart.”
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