At the Chettinad Heritage and Cultural Festival, a revival takes root
Sometimes a revival looks like a family wedding: fleets of cars, precise handwritten notes, a staccato of urgent phone calls and the luxurious rustle of silk saris.
At the bougainvillea-framed The Bangala in Karaikudi, on the eve of the Chettinad Heritage and Cultural Festival, the formidable Mrs Meenakshi Meyyappan sits at the centre of it all. A room in her relaxed boutique hotel has been converted into a temporary control room, jostling with books, cardboard boxes and friends-turned-volunteers.
At 92, she has been up early every morning for months, working out the festival schedule, personally inviting speakers and guests, planning daily menus and overseeing room allotments. In the five years that it has run, the festival has brought tourism, attention and change to Chettinad, introducing the rest of the country to the treasures of this unique arid landscape, punctuated by sprawling, extravagant mansions.
File photo of Meenakshi Meyyappan, key organiser
| Photo Credit:
Parmesh Shahani
Comprising 75 villages and spread over about 600 square miles, the region is home to the Nattukottai Chettiar community, that did business across Southeast Asia and poured their profits into lavish mansions spanning 40,000 square feet and more between the 18th and mid-20th centuries. Over the past decade, as the mansions began to be torn down, it became clear that Chettinad needed attention if it was to survive.
There were about 15,000 mansions at its peak, and while no one is sure how many remain, M Meyyappan Jr, Meenakshi Meyyappan’s son who compiled A Chettiar Album with the late historian S Muthiah, says most of these homes only come alive during weddings and functions. “Many stand empty today, and the knowledge and skills required to maintain them are disappearing with every generation. Effectively Chettinad is shrinking.”
Visalakshi Ramaswamy, of the M. Rm. Rm. Cultural Foundation speaks at her recently launched The Museum of Chettinad in her 125-year-old family home in Kanadukathan.
| Photo Credit:
saisanjay
The festival has already brought change, with more people discovering the region for holidays and weddings. (It helps that the mansions look great in reels – today it is virtually impossible to walk through Athangudi Palace without tripping over an Instagrammer.)
That interest is translating into investment. The Park Hotels opened The Vaadhyar’s House restaurant after restoring a 150-year-old dilapidated mansion in 2018. They launched The Lotus Palace opposite it in 2024, in a 230-year-old structure, offering guests a Kanadukathan-meets-The-Gatsby vibe: filter coffee, emerald chandeliers and a seductively scarlet lounge. Now, locals say Taj Hotels has been looking for a mansion to restore as well.
Yali x Ashdeen: The Theatre of Textiles By Dancers Collective led by Ronita Mookerji at Athangudi Palace
| Photo Credit:
Sai Sanjay
The community is also welcoming tourists. Jewellery designer Meenu Subbiah from the Chettiar community, launched Pettagam, India’s first private museum for Chettinad jewellery last year. And Visalakshi Ramaswamy, the influential Chettiar and revivalist, recently launched The Museum of Chettinad in her 125-year-old family home in Kanadukathan, complete with a museum shop boasting the cheerful kottans that her M. Rm. Rm. Cultural Foundation, made popular, in its quest to document, preserve, and revive craft, textiles, and architecture of the region.
Chettinad saris
| Photo Credit:
saisanjay
We weave our way through the museum, admiring her striking collection of embellished Ravi Varma prints, Burmese lacquerware and Chettinad silk saris with their signature contrasting borders. Visalakshi Ramaswamy is disarmingly candid about why she opened it: “We have lost so much information. I’m 80 years old and I don’t know that much. I keep thinking I should ask some old person… and then I realise that is me.” She adds, “I have the house. I have the rooms. So I decided to do it here… If you know what you did in the past, you see today with better clarity.”
The festival includes a feisty conversation on politics between politician Shashi Tharoor and author-historian Manu Pillai; an evocative display by Ally Matthen’s Registry of Sarees in collaboration with textile revivalist Ashdeen Lilaowala and researcher Peter Lee; and an inspiring call to arms by historian Malvika Singh, an advocate of Indian handicraft and founding member of Rehwa, encouraging attendees to buy from weavers.
A display by the Registry of Saris in collaboration Ashdeen Lilaowala
| Photo Credit:
saisanjay
Also, between visiting Soundara Nayaki Kailasanatha and Kandadevi temple led by author-historian Pradeep Chakravarthy, and exploring the Zamindar House in Devakottai and the Chettinad Palace, we realise the magnitude of artisanal skill that has disappeared over generations.
Shashi Tharoor and author-historian Manu Pillai in conversation on the ‘Idea of India: Power, Polarization and the Republic’
| Photo Credit:
saisanjay
Architect Benny Kuriakose and Visalakshi Ramaswamy, for example, have collaborated on reviving architectural techniques, including the Athangudi tile. Benny says that there were three or four establishments making the tiles when they started research a few decades ago. Now there are 300 factories across Chettinad.
Similarly, with lime plastering, done with an egg wash, he describes how they found a worker who remembered a technique from the 1960s. “If we had not found that mason, it would have been over,” he says.
A lot of this knowledge can be applied to make today’s buildings more comfortable and climate resilient, he says, adding “500 years ago we were skilled in craftsmanship. We have lost so much.” Explaining why he has spent the last 42 years hunting down forgotten techniques, he says, “I get fulfilment from doing this. Our cities today have architecture that is not people friendly, or climate friendly. It is important we bring back durable, sustainable craftsmanship.”
Staff recreate typical scenes from Chettiar life in the mansions at Chettinad Palace, Kanadukathan
| Photo Credit:
saisanjay
On the final night of the festival, over The Bangla’s addictive fried quail and lacy appams, Ashdeen Lilaowala, who has revived the Parsi Gara sari and inspired a new generation of artisans by embracing change, says it is important to take craft traditions forward. “We do western wear, or we do a clutch. If we want to employ more and more artisans, we need to expand,” he says, adding, “By doing this we have managed to get the second generation working. Sons and daughters-in-law are learning the craft.”
Ashdeen Lilaowala, who has revived the Parsi Gara sari and inspired a new generation of artisans
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement
The day after the festival, Meenakshi Meyyappan is at home, but still busy – her courtyard is filled with huge, freshly scrubbed vessels drying in the sun, a steady stream of visitors passes through and the phone calls are incessant. “Someone always wants something done,” she says with her trademark composure, adding, “I don’t mind. Organising is one of my core strengths.”
She says the the festival was originally set up to boost off-season tourism, but has become a catalyst for the whole year. “There are lots more weddings now,” she says, adding with a smile, “And Mammootty stayed with us at the Bangla for three months.”
A glimpse into life in the mansions a century ago at Chettinad Palace, Kanadukathan
| Photo Credit:
saisanjay
The year’s edition is done, but the work continues. Old recipes are being rediscovered and taught, while tile makers, jewellers and weavers master traditional techniques to find fresh audiences — and new pride.
The Chettinad Heritage and Cultural Festival is more than four days of showcasing a community. It is proof that change can begin with just a few people. Starting with a 92-year-old aachi who is already on the phone planning the next edition, between deciding the lunch menu for her guests — including Mammootty.
