Uncovering the Mandili

text MELISSA HEKKERS

photography DINAH KAPROU

The Cypriot kerchief, the mandili, and in particular the uniquely created stamped version, was once deeply embedded in Cypriot culture, not only as an accessory but also as an art. Today, this well guarded technique has become a pale memory.

There was a time when Cypriot women assuredly wore an intricately made and purposely chosen kerchief, the mandili, to accompany their everyday attire. Nowadays this traditional accessory, which was very much embedded in Cypriot culture, can only be admired at traditional celebrations and festivals, with some exceptions still appearing in rural villages across the island.

LOOKING BACK

“It’s easy for things to disappear,” says Euphrosyne Rizopoulou-Egoumenidou, Professor Emerita at the University of Cyprus, as she attempts to describe the pivotal moment when the art of Cypriot stamped kerchiefs, which defined the traditional dress code for Cypriot men and women from the 18th to the mid-20th century, vanished forever. “In 2004, Nicos Kakkoulis, the last Cypriot kerchiefmaker died – and with him the kerchief,” she says, marking the end of an era as well as the end of a thriving production and export industry for which Cyprus became greatly famous in Europe.

Irrefutably, the kerchief was initially used by both Greek and Turkish Cypriots as an accessory, with women predominately wearing it as a head scarf. At times it was fastened with a karfitsa tou mandiliou, a silver kerchief pin decorated with a real or crocheted flower. Men were also accustomed to wearing a kerchief, in their case tied around their fez or around their head.

COLOUR CODED

The square-shaped kerchief, made from fine cotton of different colours and beautifully decorated with varying motifs inspired by embroidery of the time, went beyond merely complementing a dress sense. After the art was revived and further developed by Armenian artisans who came to the island post 1915, the then locally recognized cloth also lent a hand towards defining age, social class, religious rites, seasons and identity. Kerchiefs of a crimson, burgundy or dark green colour were reserved for young women; older ladies were known to wear brown kerchiefs, while widows donned black ones as a sign of mourning. Colours also varied according the seasons: “The black and white kerchiefs, known as the mandiles tou therous, were used during harvesting time in order to protect people from the sun,” states Euphrosyne.

WOODEN BLOCKS with delicately carved floral motifs (below) were used to stamp the scarves (left) using different colours.

A plain white kerchief with black designs was also used after the bath, the hamam, to protect one’s head against chills. The Greek name for this particular scarf was kouroukla.

This is a folk art that links both the art of printing and dying. “Workshops used local dyes, dyes that came from the modern world, and others from the east,” explains Euphrosyne.

A SECRETIVE CIRCLE

Although a few workshops remained in place until the 20th century to satisfy dwindling demand, the traditional craft of the stamped kerchief – or calico printing as it is more commonly known – is a trade that no longer exists. Its demise is not easy to trace, and the art is very sparingly documented, perhaps deliberately rather than through negligence on the part of the craftsmen themselves.

“The craftsmen were very secretive about their art,” affirms Euphrosyne. Both the production of special dyes and the dying process itself involved a laborious process and techniques that were tightly guarded within the upper-class families that led the trade and their individual workshops. “Their recipes were kept secret,” Euphrosyne explains, noting that they included various imported ingredients – such as flowers or insect eggs – to name a few. “It is said that the Armenians kept the secret of the red dye going for 2000 years,” she adds. Cypriot craftsmen, the mandilarides, working in workshops were separated according to their specific duties and never crossed paths, thereby preventing anyone from penetrating the trade’s closed circle.

TOOLS OF THE TRADE

The secrecy behind the art itself is perhaps one of the reasons why the industry slowly vanished, as the artisans passed away without handing down their knowledge and skills. Yet the folk art in question also extends beyond the knowhow of the particular printing and dying practices. One of the most essential tools employed in the production of a kerchief of any type and colour is the wooden carved stamp or mould, traditionally made from olive or walnut wood and used to print the alternating coloured motifs on the kerchiefs. Each wooden mould was hand-carved by a supporting artisan without whom the very process of calico printing could not exist.

“The carving of the mould is an art in its own right, of course, a wonderful technique, with fantastic colours and designs,” says Euphrosyne. The motifs produced by these moulds where “mostly inspired by flowers and blossoms as well as curvilinear motifs, as opposed to weaving, which was geometric,” explains Euphrosyne. “It was an imitation of embroidery; the typical pattern was to have a wreath in each of the four corners, and another flower pattern in many different colours all around the edges.” The more intricate or the ‘better’ kerchiefs were finished off with a crocheted edge, a pipilla as it was known, which also came in different patterns.

MULTI-COLOURED stamped scarves were tied around the head and fastened with a karfitsa tou mandiliou, a silver kerchief pin decorated with a real or crocheted flower, as in the etching below.

PRINTING PROGRESS

Until 1846, calico printing workshops were generously scattered across the island, with as many as 50 workshops in Nicosia, where the art is said to have flourished. The calico technique was initially used to design belts, cushions, divan and quilt covers; it was an art that developed very much in Cyprus, with the kerchiefs being purely Cypriot. By 1863, due to the hefty duty imposed on these items, the industry began to fade, but after 1895, it is said that Armenian craftsmen that came to Cyprus brought new motifs and moulds along with them and revived the trade.

“Calico printing began as an art in India,” says Euphrosyne, taking us back in time. “That’s why it is also called Indianes,” she reveals. “Generally, in the countries of the East, the art of printing was mostly acquired and polished through practise, as it was passed down from one generation to the next,” she adds. “When the Europeans brought the art to Europe, they introduced technology and began using rollers and machines, which triggered enormous competition.” That is when the art began to evolve simultaneously in the East and West.

RARE SPECIMENS

Worn nowadays purely as an element of the folk costume, a Cypriot kerchief is likely to be stored away somewhere in many homes, yet far from the public eye where the beautiful craft is preserved in the memories of those who treasure it.

Few attempts have been made to revive the stifled trade. Apart from references in specialized publications and a documentary on the last kerchief-maker of Cyprus, in 2015 The Leventis Municipal Museum of Nicosia organized an exhibition entitled “Printed Scarves and the Last Scarf Maker”. Although not currently on display, the exhibits came from the Collections of the Leventis Municipal Museum itself as well as the Cyprus Handicraft Centre. Some of the exhibits where borrowed from the family of the last kerchief-maker.

For a step back in time, and to admire a selection of typical and original Cypriot kerchiefs and folk costumes, visit the museum of the Centre of Visual Arts and Research (CVAR) in the old town of Nicosia within the walls, one of very few places where the Cyprus kerchief of old is still revered.