A conservation initiative supported by the Tata Trusts is working to build conservation capacity in Ladakh, to preserve the region's heritage for future generations.
The Shesrig Foundation, a women-led art conservation organisation based in Leh, was built on a simple premise: that the people best placed to preserve
Ladakh's cultural heritage are those who belong to it.
Its co-founder and director, Noor Jahan, is an unlikely face of Ladakhi heritage conservation. A former national-level ice hockey player and graduate of the Delhi Institute of Heritage Research and Management, she grew up far from the monastic spaces she now works to preserve. Yet, as a Ladakhi, she believes that local ownership is central to meaningful conservation. For too long, she notes, preservation in Ladakh was driven by outsiders whose methods often failed to align with ground realities.
The conservation of historic Ladakhi artefacts is painstaking. Each project begins with detailed documentation and photography, followed by a structured treatment plan. If losses in a historic Thangka painting need to be reconstructed, a Thangka artist is consulted, with reference to religious texts, before any reintegration is carried out. The Foundation has restored 15 Thangka paintings from different monasteries, including 16th-century scrolls brought back by monks and pilgrims travelling to Tibet.
Wall painting restoration is more complex still, requiring teams to travel with materials to remote and often inaccessible sites. In 2025, the Foundation undertook two major projects, at a 12th-century temple in Saspochey village and a 14th-century shrine in Markha Valley. At Markha, the painting was located inside a partially collapsed stupa, where residents had been reluctant to intervene due to fears of triggering calamity, prompting the Foundation to step in at their request.
Its co-founder and director, Noor Jahan, is an unlikely face of Ladakhi heritage conservation. A former national-level ice hockey player and graduate of the Delhi Institute of Heritage Research and Management, she grew up far from the monastic spaces she now works to preserve. Yet, as a Ladakhi, she believes that local ownership is central to meaningful conservation. For too long, she notes, preservation in Ladakh was driven by outsiders whose methods often failed to align with ground realities.
The conservation of historic Ladakhi artefacts is painstaking. Each project begins with detailed documentation and photography, followed by a structured treatment plan. If losses in a historic Thangka painting need to be reconstructed, a Thangka artist is consulted, with reference to religious texts, before any reintegration is carried out. The Foundation has restored 15 Thangka paintings from different monasteries, including 16th-century scrolls brought back by monks and pilgrims travelling to Tibet.
Wall painting restoration is more complex still, requiring teams to travel with materials to remote and often inaccessible sites. In 2025, the Foundation undertook two major projects, at a 12th-century temple in Saspochey village and a 14th-century shrine in Markha Valley. At Markha, the painting was located inside a partially collapsed stupa, where residents had been reluctant to intervene due to fears of triggering calamity, prompting the Foundation to step in at their request.
The artefacts face multiple and persistent threats. Tourism and the infrastructure built around it have damaged fragile rock art sites, of which Ladakh has some of the highest concentrations in the world.
Climate change is accelerating the decay of ancient structures, while the absence of a formal heritage policy for lower-category monuments leaves most
sites without protection. Theft also remains a concern, with artefacts such as a carved wooden panel from Sumda Chun monastery later traced to a
private collector in London.
Community attitudes add another layer of complexity. As Noor points out, heritage is often taken for granted, and even well-intentioned interventions can sometimes cause damage, particularly in sensitive contexts such as wall paintings where improper handling has led to irreversible loss.
Community attitudes add another layer of complexity. As Noor points out, heritage is often taken for granted, and even well-intentioned interventions can sometimes cause damage, particularly in sensitive contexts such as wall paintings where improper handling has led to irreversible loss.
Making Communities the Custodians
For the Foundation, conservation without community is incomplete. Its fellowship programme offers stipends and accommodation for two trainees over
three months, ensuring intensive, hands-on training. In its inaugural year, it included participants from both Ladakh and Manipur. Alongside this, outreach
initiatives have included workshops for monks and village leaders, conservation sessions at Diskit Monastery, and on-site awareness programmes in
villages such as Saspochey.
For team members like Kunzes Dolma, the initiative goes beyond conservation, representing a long-term investment in community participation that could evolve into a sustainable model for heritage preservation. Her colleague Nilza Angmo sees it as a question of identity, noting that Ladakh's monasteries, murals and heritage structures are not just artefacts but living parts of its spiritual and cultural fabric.
For team members like Kunzes Dolma, the initiative goes beyond conservation, representing a long-term investment in community participation that could evolve into a sustainable model for heritage preservation. Her colleague Nilza Angmo sees it as a question of identity, noting that Ladakh's monasteries, murals and heritage structures are not just artefacts but living parts of its spiritual and cultural fabric.
The programme's strength lies in conservators who are themselves Ladakhi, which ensures
cultural sensitivity and sustained commitment, while also making them the most effective
advocates for safeguarding the region's fragile heritage. This emphasis on local capacity is also
reflected beyond Ladakh.
