A Purulia chhau mask is built up rather than carved: clay over a cane mould, papier-mâché, ash and cloth strips, then lacquered paint. The face comes out flat pink — the colour reserved for the human-like heroes and most of the goddesses — and every feature is drawn onto it in a broad turquoise liner of even weight.

That split is the whole system. Pink is the ground, turquoise is the ink, and above the brow sits a crown of tinsel, foil, feathers and shola-pith flowers heavy enough to reach five kilograms. Nothing is restrained here; the object is made to read from the back of a night field.