From Dharavi To Design Miami: Sudheer Rajbhar’s Flap Chair Honours Leather Artisans
A visionary reclaiming India's craft heritage, Sudheer Rajbhar redefines sustainability through art and design, challenging the global perception of Indian craftsmanship.
- 27 Jan '25
- 6:03 pm by Virender Singh
Mumbai’s monsoons are a great equaliser. Riveting together rubber sheets of recycled tyre innertubes sourced from Dharavi, visionary designer and activist Sudheer Rajbhar crafts his sculptural armchairs with the same survival instinct that compels both slum-dwellers and billionaires to shield their homes from the rain. “If you look at Mumbai from above, it’s all black and blue,” Rajbhar observes with biting irony. “I’ve even seen Ambani’s house covered with blue tarpaulin.” This Bombay-born artist is also the driving force behind the circular designs of Chamar Studio, a brand that debuted with minimalistic bags crafted from the same marvellously versatile recycled rubber material.
By 2022, the audacious collectables gallery Æquō invited Rajbhar to shape ‘RUB IN’—a hyper pop, haute-couture furniture line—developed in synergy with creative associate Camille Bastien and master craftsman Rahul Gore. Fast forward to Design Miami last December, where popstar and makeup mogul Rihanna struck a pose in the Flap Chair, the pièce de résistance of the collection. In an instant, Rajbhar’s Chamar Studio catapulted into the rarefied realm of high art.
The Portrait Of A Young Artist
Hailing from a riverside town called Jaunpur in Uttar Pradesh, the artist spent his formative years in the swarming ghetto of Kandivali, Mumbai. His childhood was a palimpsest daubed with the sights and sounds of craftsmanship—carpenters repairing windows, hammering stools into shape, and sculpting everyday objects. “I liked to watch them,” he reminisces. “I just observed, fascinated by how they worked.”
However, scholarly pursuits did not come easily to him. Struggling with academia, Rajbhar found his calling in art and enrolled at the Vasai Art School, where he honed his skills in the face of subtle but ostensible discrimination. “If you don’t speak good English or dress well, people judge you,” he explains. This systemic bias extended beyond the enclosure of his peers, taking root even in the haloed grounds of reputed galleries and design studios. “For someone like me, without connections or family in the field, breaking into the art world was incredibly challenging.”
The Memories That Influenced His Work
“I think basically my creations speak to my own journey and experiences,” the artist reflects. “If people hadn’t called me a ‘Chamar’ and used it as a slur, Chamar Studio would never have come about.” It’s not just the visceral, glossy colours these armchairs are draped in that are taking the world by storm. It’s the fact that there is more to his sensually imperious collection than meets the public eye. There’s a history of a people, an entire community trapped in social immobility, suffocating under the plastic ceiling of tradition, that no one in the art world could have guessed better than Rajbhar himself. “See, I grew up in the slum, and during the monsoon, our house would drip from the roof,” Rajbhar recalls. “We had to climb up and cover it with huge plastic sheets.” He pauses for a moment, his memories lingering in the air. “When you wrap the whole house like that, living in the slum, it’s really difficult—it’s hard to breathe.”
What Spurred The Need For A New Direction?
It all came to a head during the infamous beef ban in 2015, when the livelihoods of leather artisans from Maharashtra’s Chamar and Dhor communities were teetering upon the edge of catastrophe. “But no one thought about coming up with a solution,” Rajbhar vents. “So I decided, why not? I can make something.” The breakthrough came when Rajbhar recognised the potential in Dharavi’s recycling hub. “I found rubber, waste tubes and tyre remnants. I converted them into sheets.” At first, Rajbhar found it incredibly challenging to convince the artisans. With his indefatigable optimism, the artist explains: “With leather, there’s a lot of sticking, grinding, and additional processes. But with rubber, it’s very simple—just cut, punch a hole, stitch, and it’s done. No pasting, no sticking.” Over time, the craftspeople came around. “Before, they’d say, ‘This is rubber. It’s not our style.’ But now they’re embracing it.”
Also Read: Unveiling Design Mumbai 2024: A Symphony of Global Inspiration and Indian Artistry
First There Was The Pocket Chair In Blue
“I was hanging out at an exhibition somewhere in South Mumbai when Florence Louisy walked up to me,” Rajbhar thinks back. “She mentioned opening a new gallery space in Colaba and invited me to drop by sometime.” What began as a casual exchange over the lack of pockets in contemporary couture soon led to an unexpected epiphany. Amidst the lighthearted sparring, Rajbhar found himself merging the spheres of sculpture, garment construction and furniture design. This convergence birthed The ‘Pocket Chair,’ an act of defiance against the notion that an artist should confine themselves to a single medium. “There have to be no boundaries as a young artist—one should be free to create whatever they want, however, they want to express themselves,” Rajbhar asserts. His first creation, a striking tarpaulin blue, was chosen for its visual impact and its deep political significance, symbolising strength and resilience within the Dalit community.
Also Read: Your First Look At Æquō – India’s Only Collectible Design Gallery
Over half a year, more gorgeously vibrant pieces tumbled out of Rajbhar’s subconscious, reminiscent of a Mad Hatter’s tea party. Florence Louisy, the French creative director and co-founder of Æquo, wholeheartedly embraced them all in her first solo show with an Indian designer—a notable departure from the gallery’s usual focus on collaborations with international designers since its inception. “Those folks up at Æquō simply handed me the metal structure and said, ‘Sudheer, now you can start draping,’” the artist quips. “It was all completely natural, no extra steps needed.”
Framing An Identity Beyond Borders
Pop culture moments can often serve as transformative catalysts, realigning an artist’s trajectory and amplifying their message. Rihanna, sinking rakishly into the chair, engaged with the piece in a way that transcended the typical art-world dynamics. Measuring 135 cm in length, 160 cm in width and standing at 78 cm in height, the Flap Chair boasts a siren-red hue and the soft contours of a leather flap bag. “What’s really fascinating is how organically she connected with the piece,” Rajbhar muses. “She might not have known that it was made by an Indian artist, but that’s the power of art—it speaks for itself.” Yet, this moment of recognition also highlighted a deeper challenge.
“In India, people want to own Birkin bags, but they don’t believe in Chamar craftsmanship,” Rajbhar laments. “It’s not that we lack talent—it’s that the system is outdated, our sector unorganised. There isn’t a single Indian brand flying our flag on the global stage. That needs to change.” For Rajbhar, the issue isn’t just about recognition; it’s about reimagining how Indian artisans and their work are valued. “If I opened a store next to Hermès in Paris, people would also line up for Chamar,” he says confidently. “Why? Because we’re miles ahead into the future—we work with sustainable materials. But people don’t trust Indian products unless they are validated by the West.”
The Role Of Ethics And Sustainability In Design
Rajbhar is particularly sceptical about the superficiality of greenwashing. “In India, people think sustainability is just about the material,” he remarks. “Here, people think sustainability is just about the material,” he says. “It’s the whole system—the entire process. Who are the makers? Where is it coming from? Why are we making it? And who will wear it? The whole story has to be sustainable.” For him, sustainability transcends the surface—it’s about embedding ethics into every layer of creation.
This philosophy ties into his belief that young artists and entrepreneurs must shift their focus away from the allure of quick profits. “The mindset that you need to go viral instantly is completely wrong,” he cautions. Instead, he urges the next generation to embrace the journey, to immerse themselves in the community and the ecosystem behind their work. “There should be an ethical way to produce art. Then it becomes meaningful, and you create an aura that is unique to you.” For Rajbhar, the essence of true creativity lies in restraint and intentionality. “If you have a lot of money and just keep making things, the energy isn’t the same. Just make one piece—there’s no need to create hundreds. Make the one that speaks to you.”