Rajastan
I never expected to find myself in a jewelry store in Jaipur, cupping a plum-size sapphire in my palm. Cool to the touch and the color of a swimming pool, the gem was unadorned, the better to show off its clarity. This was just one of many trinkets I got to play with that afternoon. There were enameled turban-pieces studded with diamonds, curved scabbards adorned with vibrantly colored precious stones, and a gold chess set. “Go ahead, pick it up!” I was urged toward whatever was in front of me. No gloves, no problem. Welcome to Rajasthan.
India’s largest state, in the arid northwest, is the locus of the country’s most glamorous past, and today it’s a major draw for anyone seeking an immersion in courtly history (as well as in textiles, jewelry, antiques, and spices). The center of Rajput power since the sixth century A.D., Rajasthan is thick with imposing forts and carved marble temples that look like towering pinecones. The most concentrated way to get to know the region is through its three main cities—Jaipur, Jodhpur, and Udaipur, each with its own flavor—but between and among them, the scrubby Thar Desert and Aravalli Range are rich with pilgrimage sites and glimpses of village and rural life almost unchanged since the feudal era.

The bug first bit me thanks to Waris Ahluwalia, the designer of House of Waris, which produces handmade scarves and gold-and-gem jewelry with heraldic motifs and a dash of punk. I was previewing one of his collections at Colette in Paris, and he started to explain how the artisans in his Jaipur network would undertake his enamel work using centuries-old techniques. Waris was born in India but grew up in New York; his connection to Rajasthan came while visiting there with his parents as a kid and deepened as an adult in search of craftspeople to execute his designs. “The skill there is extraordinary,” he said, his eyes getting wider. He hunched his shoulders, imitating the way they sit over small charcoal fires in their tiny workrooms to melt the gold and then hammer and channel-cut it to hold rivers of powdered glass.

Rajasthan may find itself at a crossroads, with a growing number of visitors, ambitious infrastructure initiatives, and a brand-new hotel boom creating pockets of real slickness. But as I learned when I visited, Waris was right: it’s not just a monument to the past. There may now be supermarkets and good highways and IT jobs, with a Jaipur metro on the way, but the area is in no danger of losing what makes it most special.
Jaipur
As the capital of the state and its largest city, Jaipur is usually the first stop on a Rajasthan itinerary. It’s a strong shot of color and noise and activity, especially impactful after the relative order of Delhi, where most overseas travelers first touch down. Founded, as the Mughal Empire was falling in the early 18th century, by a Hindu soldier-king obsessed with architecture and astronomy, the city is one of India’s first examples of urban planning, built along a grid system with the massive City Palace and an extraordinary 18th-century observatory at its heart. To celebrate a visit in 1876 by Queen Victoria’s son Prince Albert (who later became Edward VII), the city’s storefronts and town houses were painted salmon pink, and they’ve remained so ever since.

That consistency and spatial order is today undermined by urban life at every turn. Shopkeepers’ wares extend past their doors and out into the streets. Clusters of egg-size pani puri (chile-and-potato-stuffed fried bread) bob furiously in boiling oil, beckoning locals and visitors more daring than I to burn their tongues while taking a bite. Traffic surpasses the usual cacophonous mix of scooters and cars, horns blaring, to include camel-drawn carts, packhorses, painted elephants, goats, monkeys, pigs, and, of course, cows. Businesspeople rush to their next appointments, passing long lines at lassi (kefir) stands, hurrying past women in the brightest possible saris and men in dhotis and loosely knotted turbans whose brilliant colors change according to the message of the moment: mourning, betrothal, celebration, welcome.

Jaipur is a hub of contemporary creativity, too. You see it in the mix of Indian fashion designers such as Manish Arora and Zubair Kirmani (of Bounipun) on sale at Hot Pink, the chic shop owned by Munnu Kasliwal in the Narain Niwas Hotel where French jeweler Marie-Hélène de Taillac is artistic director. And in the same way that she and House of Waris use age-old methods to push beyond traditional aesthetics, Alexander Gorlizki is revamping Rajasthan’s other most famous craft, miniature painting. Gorlizki, an English artist, sells at galleries like Greenberg Van Doren, in Manhattan, and Galerie Martin Kudlek, in Cologne, Germany. His paintings are surreal and graphic, though the brushstrokes and motifs remain as they were during the art’s 16th- and 17th-century golden age. They’re executed by his partner Riyaz Uddin, a master painter, and his staff of seven, based full-time in an apartment-style atelier in Jaipur’s crumbling, ancient Muslim quarter.
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