A revival is taking root at the Chettinad Heritage and Cultural Festival
Sometimes the revival looks like a family wedding: fleets of cars, precise handwritten notes, staccato urgent phone calls and the luxurious rustle of silk saris.
At The Bangala in Karaikudi, on the eve of the Chettinad Heritage and Cultural Festival, amidst the creepers, sits the formidable Mrs. Meenakshi Meyyappan. A room in her laid-back boutique hotel has been turned into a makeshift control room, where books, cardboard boxes and friends-turned-volunteers are pushed.
At the age of 92, he has been getting up early every morning for months, drawing up the festival schedule, personally inviting speakers and guests, planning the daily menu and overseeing room allocations. In its five years of existence, the festival has brought tourism, attention and change to Chettinad, introducing the rest of the country to the treasures of this unique arid landscape, punctuated by sprawling, extravagant mansions.
File photo of Meenakshi Meyyappan, Key Organizer | Photo credit: Parmesh Shahani
Consisting of 75 villages and spread over an area of about 600 square miles, the region is home to the Nattukottai Chettiar community, who did business throughout Southeast Asia and poured their profits into palatial mansions of 40,000 square feet and more between the 18th and mid-20th centuries. Over the last decade, as estates began to come down, it became clear that Chettinad needed attention if it was to survive.
There were about 15,000 mansions at their peak, and while no one is sure how many remain, M Meyyappan Jr, son of Meenakshi Meyyappan, who compiled the Chettiar Album with the late historian S Muthiah, says most of these houses only come alive during weddings and celebrations. “Many are empty today and the knowledge and skills needed to maintain them are disappearing with each generation. Chettinad is actually shrinking.”
Visalakshi Ramaswamy, of M. Rm. Rm. The cultural foundation is speaking at her recently opened Chettinad Museum at her 125-year-old family home in Kanadukathan. | Photo credit: saisanjay
The festival has already brought about a change, more people are discovering the region for holidays and weddings. (It helps that the mansions look great on reels—it’s virtually impossible to walk past Athangudi Palace these days without tripping over an Instagram user.)
This interest is reflected in investments. The Park Hotels opened The Vaadhyar’s House restaurant after restoring a 150-year-old dilapidated mansion in 2018. Opposite it, in 2024, they launched Lotus Palace in a 230-year-old building that offers guests a Kanadukathan-meets-The-Gatsby vibe: filter coffee, emerald green Now locals say Taj Hotels was also looking for a mansion to restore.
Yali x Ashdeen: Theater of Textiles by Dancers Collective directed by Ronita Mookerji at Athangudi Palace | Photo credit: Sai Sanjay
The community also welcomes tourists. Jewelery designer Meenu Subbiah from the Chettiar community launched Pettagam, India’s first private museum for Chettinad jewelery last year. And Visalakshi Ramaswamy, an influential Chettiar and revivalist, recently launched the Chettinad Museum in her 125-year-old family home in Kanadukathan, complete with a museum shop boasting cheerful kottanas that her M. Rm. Rm. A cultural foundation that has become popular in its efforts to document, preserve and revive the craft, textiles and architecture of the region.
Chettinad saree | Photo credit: saisanjay
We meander through the museum admiring its remarkable collection of ornate Ravi Varma prints, Burmese lacquerware and Chettinad silk saris with their signature contrasting borders. Visalakshi Ramaswamy is disarmingly honest about why she opened up: “We’ve lost so much information. I’m 80 years old and I don’t know much. I keep thinking I should ask some old person… and then I realize it’s me.” She adds: “I have a house. I have rooms. So I decided to do it here… If you know what you did in the past, you can see better today.”
The festival includes a wild conversation about politics between politician Shashi Tharoor and writer-historian Manu Pillai; the evocative exhibition Ally Matthen’s Registry of Sarees in collaboration with textile revivalist Ashdeen Lilaowala and researcher Peter Lee; and an inspirational call to arms by historian Malvika Singh, advocate of Indian handicrafts and founding member of Rehwa, encouraging participants to shop from the weavers.
Exhibition Registry of Šariš in collaboration with Ashdeen Lilaowala | Photo credit: saisanjay
Between visiting Soundara Nayaki Kailasanatha and the Kandadevi Temple led by author-historian Pradeep Chakravarthy and exploring the Devakottai Zamindar House and the Chettinad Palace, we also realize the magnitude of the craftsmanship that has been lost for generations.
Shashi Tharoor and author-historian Manu Pillai in conversation on ‘The Idea of India: Power, Polarization and the Republic’ | Photo credit: saisanjay
Architect Benny Kuriakose and Visalakshi Ramaswamy, for example, collaborated to revive architectural techniques, including the Athangudi tile. Benny says that when they started their research decades ago, there were three or four businesses that made tiles. Now there are 300 factories in Chettinad.
Similarly, with lime plasters, made with egg wash, he describes how they found a worker who remembered the technique from the 60s. “If we hadn’t found the bricklayer, it would have been over,” he says.
Much of that knowledge can be used to make today’s buildings more comfortable and climate-resilient, he says, adding: “500 years ago we were skilled craftsmen. We’ve lost so much.” Explaining why he has spent the last 42 years searching for forgotten techniques, he says: “It gives me fulfillment. Our cities today have architecture that is not friendly to people or the climate. It is important that we bring back a durable and sustainable craft.”
Staff recreates typical scenes of Chettiar life at the residences in Chettinad Palace, Kanadukathan | Photo credit: saisanjay
On the last night of the festival, over addictive fried quail and Bangla lace appams, Ashdeen Lilaowala, who has revived the Parsi Gara saree and inspired a new generation of artisans to embrace change, says it’s important to take craft traditions forward. “We make western wear, or we make a clutch. If we want to employ more and more craftsmen, we have to expand,” he says, adding: “This has enabled us to get the second generation to work. Sons and daughters-in-law are learning the trade.”
Ashdeen Lilaowala, who revived the Parsi Gara saree and inspired a new generation of artisans | Photo credit: Special arrangement
The day after the festival, Meenakshi Meyyappan is at home, but still busy—her yard is full of huge, freshly scrubbed pots drying in the sun, a steady stream of visitors pass by, and the phone calls are constant. “There’s always someone who wants to do something,” he says with his typical calmness, adding: “I don’t mind. Organizing is one of my main strengths.”
He says the festival was originally established to promote off-season tourism, but has become a year-round catalyst. “There are a lot more weddings now,” he says, adding with a smile, “And Mammootty stayed with us in Bangla for three months.”
A Glimpse into Residence Life a Century Ago at Chettinad Palace, Kanadukathan | Photo credit: saisanjay
The annual edition is done, but the work continues. Old recipes are rediscovered and taught as tile makers, jewelers and weavers master traditional techniques to find new audiences – and new pride.
The Chettinad Heritage and Cultural Festival is over four days of community performances. It is proof that change can start with just a few people. Starting with the 92-year-old aachi, who is already on the phone planning the next release, in between deciding on the lunch menu for her guests – including Mammootty.