ecoArts I: My Odyssey with Natural Pigments Through Time
- Bhavana Gesota
- Sep 18, 2019
- 4 min read
Updated: Apr 4
Sept 15 2019, Full Moon in Pisces.
Oaxaca, Mexico.
Salasaca, Ecuador, 2000
My journey with natural dyes/pigments began serendipitously in 2000, during a backpacking adventure in Ecuador. In the quaint Andean village of Salasaca, I met Alonso Pilla, a local weaver who introduced me to a world where colors were born from the earth—his mother's garden. He shared the ancient Bolivian weaving technique his family had carried from the time of the Incas. Alonso took me to his mother's mountainside house where she reared sheep for wool and grew various plants and herbs that she used to make vibrant dyes. At that time, I was focused on my burgeoning tech career. But this encounter with Alonso and his mother planted a seed of fascination with natural dyes that sprouted many years later.
Fairfax, California, 2008
In 2008, while waiting for my U.S. passport in Fairfax, California, I encountered natural pigments, through my French roommate, a muralist trained in traditional fresco art of old French churches. She adapted these traditional techniques for contemporary use, and with her inspiration, I picked up a paintbrush for the first time after 15 years to paint a Sri Yantra, using her collection of natural pigments and spices like turmeric. This experience reignited my interest and inspired a desire to experiment further with natural pigments in line with my growing commitment to living lightly and sustainably on earth.
When my passport arrived, I left for Europe for work, leaving the pigments in my storage space in San Francisco. I thought I'd return soon, but life had other plans; it was seven years before I revisited them.
Sacred Valley, Peru, 2016
In 2016, while living in Peru's Sacred Valley, the allure of natural pigments called me again. I was attending a summer art program at the Escuela de Bellas Artes in Cusco. Each Sunday, I saw Andean women (affectionately called Mamitas) selling natural pigments in the market. I longed to learn their dye-making process and even imagined staying the mountains with them. That opportunity eluded me but, on an inspired Sunday, I bought pigments of nearly every color they were selling. As I began to incorporate these with acrylics in my art, and learned more about making pigments through YouTube videos, I understood that the pigments these Mamitas were selling couldn't be as natural as they claimed. In fact, I learned that natural pigments can never be as vibrant as some of the colors they were selling—think neon green—unless they were "chemicalised." I felt like an idiot who had fallen prey to the "gringo" trap! Oh well, I thought to myself, its part of the journey.
But I was still curious about the materials used and the technique they used to make dyes for textiles. Further research revealed that the striking red dye came from crushed insects—a method I found difficult to embrace. Nevertheless, I resolved to integrate more natural pigments into my art, even if I couldn’t learn the entire process myself and even after being fooled by the Mamitas into buying "chemicalised" pigments.
Oaxaca, 2019
Life has a way of redirecting us. In July 2019, an unexpected dental issue led me to Mexico instead of visiting a friend in BC, Canada. After treatment in San Miguel de Allende, I headed to Oaxaca, drawn by its vibrant indigenous arts culture and the influence of Francisco Toledo, a revered Mexican artist. There I stumbled upon the Centro de las Artes San Agustín Etla, where, to my surprise, a natural dye workshop was about to begin. I applied with a statement of purpose and was thrilled to be accepted. The course, led by a Swiss textile artist with Spanish skills similar to mine (basic), turned out to be rewarding. We worked with soya beans, rosemary, bay leaves, turmeric, brazil wood, and other materials and made dyes.
Armed with basic tools and what I learned in the 3-day workshop, my kitchen turned into a laboratory. Growing up, the kitchen was my haven, where my mother taught me to cook, pick stones from rice, churn buttermilk, and grind spices. Spending time in the kitchen was a way to bond with her, and it’s a place where I still feel at home.
Now, my kitchen took on an expanded role. It’s a place where I not only cook, and make home remedies, but also where I make dyes. I often have food on one burner and a dye pot on the other. The natural, earthy look of these colors, and the subtle shifts in colors as they dry, have deepened my love for these pigments.
Next Stop?
It took me 19 years before I could get my hands wet with making natural dyes. I yearn to now convert the dyes into dry pigments that I can use for painting. Indigo fascinates me and I also yearn to explore making and using this color.
How many more years before the next chapter unfolds?
From my kitchen with love.
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