Fashion designer Rajesh Pratap Singh’s passion for engineering finds new expression in sculptures built from some of the tools of his original trade - nails and scissors. Gargi Gupta investigates, gingerly
Fashion designer Rajesh Pratap Singh loves scissors. His store at DLF Emporio mall in New Delhi, designed in collaboration with architect Ambarish Arora, is made entirely of scissors, thousands of them welded into intricate, lace-like patterns to form a mesh that covers the interiors entirely. Scissors have also found their way into Singh’s ramp shows, forming part of the backdrop.
But these aren’t the half of it — Singh also makes elaborate sculptures with fused scissors. “Art of Motorcycling”, a recent show at W+K Exp, a gallery in the capital, included one of his works — a motorcycle, its body, tyres, seat, exhaust pipe, handle-bars... all fashioned out of scissors of various shapes and sizes. Singh’s Sainik Farms home, where he keeps his sculptures, has other specimens — a chandelier, a meditating man that began, says Pratap rather cryptically, as “a feel of a man who has been stabbed...then it evolved into something that was meditating... it’s become the Buddha now”.
Talk to Singh about these and he makes light of them — “I have done silly things out of scissors and other metal parts.” The playing down is quite in character. After all, this is a man who, despite being one of India’s most celebrated designers and whose creations — marked by a subtle elegance, play on textures and textiles, and fine finish — have made him the toast of ramps in Paris and Milan, can say: “I don’t even claim to understand fashion completely.” He says this with such feeling that you realise he’s not being entirely facetious.
So, even the suggestion that his scissor-work is “art”, and that he should show it as such, has him backing off. “It’s something I have never taken seriously. We waste a lot of scissors... so it started with (the thought) — let’s do something with it.”
But why scissors?
“Because I am tailor and it’s a beautiful thing” — the response is immediate.
The “fooling around” with scissors began two years ago, and the bike was one of his first creations, made for a show in Paris where he presented a collection fusing bikers’ jackets with saris. “Sunil,” he says, referring to Sunil V, partner in W+K, the advertising agency that manages the gallery (and a close friend), “had seen it and wanted it for the exhibition.” Singh will soon be taking part in a group art show contributing sculptures — again, at the prodding of a close artist friend.
Much of Singh’s reticence comes from the conviction that his fashion, much less his art, is little understood, and taken even less seriously. “Ninety-nine per cent” of the fashion media, Singh says, “have no clue what they’re talking about.” The media have not been kind to Singh, either. His grand finale show at last month’s Lakme Fashion Week in New Delhi was panned for its lack of “drama” and “flamboyance”. “At the press conference, I was asked why I hadn’t used a Bollywood star!” he says ruefully. “[For the media,] We’re basically entertainers.”
For Singh, the best part of his job is making the garment, or rather, “the engineering of it”. “Engineering”, incidentally, is a favourite word. “Any product (I create), I want to get into the engineering part of it because that’s the way I see it.”
That applies not just to clothes, especially the jackets he’s done so much of, and jeans, which he’ll soon be doing in a big way for Wills Lifestyle, but also to other things, such as a bulletproof jacket. “It’s a beautiful piece of engineering,” Singh says, revealing that he had worked on a design for a “perfect bulletproof jacket” three years ago.
Nothing came of that, but Singh had greater success with a high-altitude sleeping bag he designed two years ago — born out of his own experiences trekking in Kumaon and the lower Himalayas. It is now being manufactured commercially.
Singh is on to helmets now — “a perfectly designed one”, not just something that he’s painted or made superficial changes to, but (and there’s that word again) “in the actual engineering of it”. “Helmets have to crack at a certain point,” he explains. “Most of the problem is because of the weight of the helmet, which can cause your neck to break on impact. So there is a whole lot of things, from cushioning to absorption, that you need to look into.”
The helmet, again, is something that came out of personal experience. Singh was an avid biker as a young boy growing up in Jaipur, dirt-tracking across the countryside on his two bikes —a Rajdoot Yamaha 350 cc, “A beauty, which is out of production now,” and a Yezdi.
He hasn’t ridden in a while now, since his wife forced him to quit following “a bit of a mishap” when they were last out riding. “But bikes will be part of my life again soon. I’ve got permission to buy a new one,” he says with a grin.
