Tamta: the coppersmiths of Uttarakhand

Naveen Kumar Tamta is quite used to visitors asking for photos and videos of him at work. In his fifties, he is a celebrated coppersmith – hammering out fine designs on copper artefacts and items of household use in Almora, Uttarakhand.

Tamta comes from a long line of coppersmiths who are said to have arrived in the Kumaon region of the Himalayas from Rajasthan hundreds of years ago. Their first settlement was near Gosni village, Lohaghat. Later on, with the transfer of the capital from Champawat to Almora, some families of coppersmiths moved here.

For the longest time, the work of copper smiths was a family affair. “Everyone used to joke and talk. There was competition too. In that competitive spirit everyone worked better,” says craftsman Pradeep Tamta.

Women were an integral part of the process. They would collect wood for the furnace from nearby forests, polish finished items, rotate the furnace fan, and prepare powder for welding. Many women also took up designing and other finer tasks like heating the metal sheet before hammering, in between cooking and looking after their families.

Copper items are a part of the culture and tradition of the Kumaon region – ghadas (pots), dhols (drums), plates and more have always been in demand. “Pehle pooja mai thali lagti thi, baaja lagta tha shaadi ho toh bade bade bartan lagte the par ab sab badal gaya [Earlier copper plates were used in pooja, percussion instruments were played, and large utensils were required in marriages. But now all that has changed],” says Naveen Tamta.

Locals recall a time when the noise made by 30-40 families of coppersmiths hammering away in Tamta Mohalla, would start at four in the morning and go on until late at night. “Sone bhi nahi dete the [They didn’t let us sleep],” says a resident, smiling as he speaks.

The number of people doing Tamta work has since shrunk, and Naveen Kumar is among the last few coppersmiths in Almora. This once thriving community of Dalit craftspeople is now down to few men and their helpers; their craft is edged out by machine-made copper artifacts and household items. “There was a time when in a day we made four pots and sold them. Today we can barely sell that many in a month,” he points out.

Despite the delicate nature of the work, and the long hours, handmade copper items are sold by weight: a 500 gram pot (ghada) sells at Rs. 1,000 while just copper of the same weight costs Rs. 750 in the market. A machine-made pot of the same weight sells at a discounted Rs.500 or so, made by factories in Rampur and Moradabad, who are able to trim margins as they make in bulk.

A handmade Tamta water filter sells at Rs. 4,000 while one made by a machine is half the price. An engraved handmade copper plate sells at Rs.700-1,000 while you can pick up a machine-made one for Rs. 300. But, say Tamta craftsmen, their work lasts three times as long as machine-made ones and can be heated and mended to extend their life.

“Today customers are reluctant to spend or invest a larger sum on utensils. Machine goods are readily available, cheaper and shinier,” says Naveen. Machine-made goods also don’t have joints, and customers tell him that they prefer a smoother and cleaner finish.

In recent times demand for smaller souvenir like items has increased – flower pots, diyas, bracelets and rings are easy on the pocket and preferred by tourists. The decline in local demand for utensils and instruments has hurt Tamta craft families, making their future unsustainable.

PARI met Naveen at his workshop – a ramshackle shed of tin and wood located in a narrow lane in this hill town, once a British outpost. The roof is peppered with holes and cracks; smelting fires and smoke from the two furnaces have turned it black over the years. Recent torrential monsoon rain in Uttarakhand has damaged his furnace, a makeshift one fashioned from a cycle tyre and fan. He is waiting for it to dry so that he can start work.

All three men who are Tamta copper craftsmen are closely related. Naveen who started working when he was 15 years old, says he and his (paternal) cousin, 47-year-old Pradeep Kumar Tamta learnt together. “Bachpan me aag dekh kar, dhuan dekh ke badi utsukta hoti thi ki kya ho raha hai [In my childhood, the fire and smoke intrigued us. We wanted to know what was happening],” says Pradeep.

Naveen was awarded a Shilpratan in 2021 by the state government in recognition of his craftsmanship, and Uttarakhand's Tamta Product was awarded a GI (Geographical Indicator ) tag in 2021. The Tamta artists thought it would bring back business and revive their craft, but nothing changed. “We received a GI tag but what to do with it? The government should help us, if they provide raw material then it is good,” says Naveen Tamta, adding that the community has for long been promised multiple benefits by the government that have never been fulfilled.

An additional worry is the high GST (goods and services tax) on raw material and high material costs that makes it difficult for artists to sustain. “In 2010 we made 1,000 rupees each day, of which 500-600 rupees was profit. It was good,” says Hari Prasad Tamta, a close relative and also a veteran craftsman himself. “Today it [income] has not changed. How much can we earn and how much can we save?” he adds, referring to the general increase in the cost of living.

Earlier most of the raw material used was locally sourced from nearby Bageshwar, and as the number of artisans was high, they sourced material directly. But now with less demand and fewer craftspeople, they have to buy material from middlemen. “The copper roll we buy from wholesalers, and they take a commission: he sells for 1,000 rupees what should be 700. We are also buying chipwood [wood from pine trees that is used as fuel for furnaces] as hardly anyone goes to the jungle,” adds Hari Prasad.

The lone woman still working in the workshop is Geeta Tamta who started working after her marriage into the family, almost 21 years ago. She says the women would go to the forest together. “The first time I went for wood I did not know anything. Other women taught me which wood to pick, how to tie wood. They taught me everything,” she recalls fondly of the strong bonds she made as a new bride.

The participation of women also brought the children into the workspace. Pradeep Tamta says when women moved away, that sense of family and community in the craft took a hit. And so did their incomes: now working alone, the craftsmen say the time taken on the craft has increased. As have the prices, as wood is now purchased from the market.

“Everything has changed. When women worked with everyone, we all had fun. Now I am the only one left, some have started to work as house help while others do whatever else they can,” she adds.

Many women from Tamta families have become domestic workers in homes and hotels, in search of a stable income. Geeta herself took care of others’ children in order to afford her children’s school fees. Almora’s rise as a tourist destination and the sudden boom in the hotel industry has led to a surge in jobs for local women who work as helpers and cleaners.

None of the younger generation are interested in continuing this work. Naveen says the future is bleak unless the state steps in. “We want to teach young boys, but no one will do this work for free.”

Seeing us take out our cameras, he says, “Aao aao photo loge ya video banaoge? Jo bhi karoge humara kya bhala usse? Jo hoga bhala, who tumhara hoga[Come come! What do you want, photos or video? Whatever you shoot will help you, not us].”

This story is supported by a fellowship from Mrinalini Mukherjee Foundation (MMF).