A portrait of Akhil Dhaddha, Gyan Museum’s Curator & Creative Director and a sarpech from the museum. Gyan Museum
Art

From Two Silver Hookah Mouthpieces To 2,500 Treasures: In Conversation WIth Gyan Museum's Akhil Dhaddha

A family’s instinctive eye for beauty turns a teenager’s gift of two silver hookah mouthpieces into a 2,500-piece collection, now curated as an unconventional, circular museum experience in Jaipur.

Waquar Habib

In one painting, you might find a stately king, bejewelled in an especially attractive necklace, and wonder what it is or where it might have come from. You might even make a mental note to look it up on the internet later. Then, as you move to the next display, you could find that very necklace sitting in front of you. This is, in a sense, the average experience of Gyan Museum, as related to me by Akhil Dhaddha, the museum’s Curator & Creative Director.

The museum may be relatively young, but in a way its conception dates back to 1956, when a 16-year-old Gyan Chand Dhaddha was given two antique silver hookah mouthpieces by his father. Small, functional objects, embellished with rubies and diamonds and shaped like a hand, they captivated him and became the first pieces in what would grow into a lifelong pursuit of collecting. Over the next 48 years, Dhaddha gathered more than 2,500 objects spanning some 3,000 years, guided not by a particular period, geography or collecting system, but by an instinctive appreciation of material, craftsmanship and the hand behind an object.

That instinct remains central to the museum today. Rather than imposing a conventional chronological or geographical order on the collection, Gyan brings together paintings, textiles, jewellery, metalwork, timepieces and objects of everyday and ceremonial use, allowing one object to illuminate another. Its circular galleries have no prescribed route, either, leaving visitors to follow their own curiosity. In doing so, the museum offers something closer to Dhaddha’s own way of looking: to linger, notice the details and, perhaps, discover a connection between things that at first appear to have little in common.

Here is a conversation which Robb Report India had with his son and an authority of the museum, Akhil Dhaddha, presented in the form of a Q&A interview.

Robb Report India (RR): You grew up around a collection that was assembled almost entirely by your grandfather. What did you learn from him, and has your own way of looking at objects changed now that you have become a custodian of the collection?

Akhil Dhaddha (AD): My grandfather started collecting at a very young age, from the age of sixteen. He was gifted two [silver hookah] mouthpieces that inspired the whole collection. At that age you're curious about a lot of things, not just one — so initially, I feel, he was collecting purely out of passion and curiosity, and later it grew into more of a lifelong pursuit.

The man with a hobby; pictures of Gyan Chand Dhaddha from his travels around the world.

He didn't discriminate in what he collected. He tried to acquire whatever beautiful things came his way and whatever he could afford. He was guided mostly by materials, craftsmanship and the hands behind a piece, rather than only by where it came from or how old it was. He looked at an object as a complete thing — the fabric, the craftsmanship, everything had value to him. While travelling, if he found something interesting, he would collect it by instinct. He wasn't fixated on which period, dynasty or era a piece belonged to — if something was old, interesting and beautifully made, with real craftsmanship behind it, that was enough for him.

I also came to understand that although each object is different from the next, we could still group them into categories — textiles, paintings, manuscripts, silver objects — rather than by geography or any other classification. That's what makes the collection more interesting and distinctive than other museums, including other royal family collections, which often have a narrower continuity. This is one person's collection, reflecting his interest in a wide range of subjects, rather than following a formal acquisition strategy.

RR: You mentioned he was gifted two pieces early on — could you clarify what those were?

AD: On his sixteenth birthday, his father gave him two mouthpieces made of silver, encrusted with rubies and diamonds, shaped like a hand. That pair of gifts inspired him to keep collecting similar pieces throughout his life. As a result, we now have the largest collection of silver mouthpieces in the world, built up from different places over the course of his travels.

The miniature of Goddess Lakshmi and the sarpech, the kalangi [turban ornaments] from Gyan Museum.

RR: Could you tell us about two specific pieces in the collection that you're particularly proud of?

AD: One is a painting of Goddess Lakshmi; it’s a miniature painting with a silver frame and a door on it. It has a wallpaper-like background, with gold work on certain parts, and natural pearls set around the goddess and her two attendants. I personally like that piece a great deal.

There are many other special pieces, but another is a sarpech, the kalangi [turban ornaments], set with enamel and diamonds, with detailing on the back. It's from the late Mughal period, very beautifully made.

RR: As a curator, how do you translate your grandfather's very personal, instinct-driven approach into a coherent museum experience, without losing that subjectivity and personal touch?

AD: He didn't collect in a particular order or focus on a particular period. His approach was that while travelling, or simply browsing, whatever came his way and struck him as beautiful, he collected — provided the material, the craftsmanship and the human skill behind it showed that real time had been put into making the piece. He went into the detail of each object; it was never just "any piece."

Once he started collecting in one category, he would continue building on it throughout his life. For example, once he began collecting mouthpieces, he kept collecting them for decades — still doing so in his sixties. It was the same with watches: we don't have two or three, we have over a hundred, although only around forty to fifty are on display. Whatever new category or type of object he took an interest in, he would try to gather more in that same style, which naturally built up fuller collections within each category — and that's how we have displayed them in the museum, grouped by category. As you enter, you'll find textiles and jewellery together, then decorative items, then a section of paintings with some miniatures.

That's how we've set it out, so that as you walk around you can relate the pieces to one another — what you see in a painting, you also see reflected in the jewellery, the textiles and the accessories. You can draw connections across all the objects.

A portrait of architect Paul Mathieu and the interiors of Gyan Museum.

RR: There was a transition from this being a private, inherited collection to becoming a museum. What was that process like, and how did it come about?

AD: My grandfather passed away in 2004, quite suddenly — he was only sixty-four at the time. He had been collecting throughout his life, as I mentioned, across forty-eight years, from age sixteen to sixty-four, and he amassed over 2,500 objects. My father and uncle knew he had been collecting, but they didn't realise the full extent of it. For the first few years after his passing, they were focused on the business — setting it up and running it — so it took them four to five years before they went and properly looked through the collection.

Around 2008–2009, they went into our basement, took everything out and began going through it, discussing what to do next. They were passionate about it too, though perhaps not quite to the same degree as my grandfather initially. But they felt they couldn't let it go — it had been our father's passion, and he'd pursued it regardless of what anyone said, so they felt they should honour that and pay tribute to him in some way. That's how the idea of the museum came about.

My father and uncle then discussed logistics — the space, and so on — and decided to use the vacant first floor of our factory, since it would let us control the space and show the collection to the public. We began working with a local architect, and eventually found Paul [Mathieu], and that's how the process started. In many ways, it's our way of carrying forward my grandfather's curiosity and legacy — through conservation, documentation and keeping everything properly catalogued. There was a lengthy process before the museum opened; it took about six years in total, involving many objects and a number of teams and professionals.

Jewellery and hookah pieces from the Gyan Museum.

RR: The museum places very different types of objects in conversation with one another — jewellery next to miniature paintings, metalwork next to everyday objects. Given that the collection isn't arranged chronologically, what connections do you hope visitors will discover? What do you want them to come away feeling?

AD: We didn't want it arranged as a conventional museum might be, grouped strictly by period or region. It's more a grouping of beautiful objects that connect with one another in some way — for instance, a textile or decorative element that someone is wearing might also appear in a painting nearby, so that visual conversation is more immediate when the pieces are placed close together, and you can relate them more easily than if they were kept in separate settings.

At the same time, each piece is shown individually, so people can appreciate the skill and material behind it — the beauty of the object itself, not just its provenance, but the workmanship and craftsmanship too. It also conveys how people centuries ago were able to create such things — how long a piece took to make, how many people might have been involved, how materials were sourced, all without modern technology. That makes it interesting for visitors.

The layout of the museum itself is circular rather than a series of boxed-off rooms you move through in sequence. It has a free-flowing movement — you might see coins together, then move to jewellery, then back to paintings. There's no single correct way to experience it; visitors can move through in whatever order they like. We do have people on hand to guide visitors, but they're free to explore at their own pace.

Precious pocket watches from the Gyan Museum.

RR: Looking ahead, how do you see the museum evolving? What are your future plans?

AD: While the museum was being built, we also started a jewellery brand under the same name as my grandfather's, carrying his name forward through a brand we've been developing across generations. We take inspiration and design cues from the museum's collection and from the city of Jaipur, creating something contemporary for the modern world — for the modern woman — across different markets, both in India and internationally.

We're also working on connecting with other museums, exploring possible collaborations where we could share parts of our collections with one another. Alongside that, we have an art in-house, where we invite both young and established artists to display their work to visitors. We're also running workshops — we've held a few already — and generally trying to keep introducing new elements alongside the museum's existing name, and to keep reaching more people.

Gyan Museum is located at G-1/21-23, Gems and Jewellery Zone, EPIP, Sitapura Industrial Area, Jaipur, Rajasthan 302022, India; it is open Monday–Saturday from 10am to 6pm, with free, guided visits available by prior appointment, lasting approximately 60 minutes to 2 hours, and is closed on Sundays.