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Works and Curations

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Modernity and Indian Art history

High Culture, as we understand it is largely founded on the work of the old elites. (I use this term to denote the pre Industrialization European aristocracy in the post Industrialisation set up.) The old elites engaged in the process of cultural entrepreneurship by founding art museums and symphony societies, which were used to entrench their cultural values and thereby defend their social positions. They in conjunction with the upper middle class developed qualitative distinctions to dramatize and defend their exalted status. Conditions were created for autonomy of high cultural values, and initiatives were taken to propagate it. Such conditions survive due to a particular way in which freedom of speech and thought are understood. Prima facie, Enlightenment celebrates the unhindered right of an individual to engage in exercise of reason and the pursuit of knowledge. Nonetheless the rise of experts and specialists has effectively neutralized the ‘freedoms’. We live in a situation where it is important to spell out that even though modernity can boast of ‘secularising’ knowledge and freeing it from various pre modern taboos that restricted its circulation, a new set of values have been imposed by a new set of authorities effectively giving us ‘secularised’ restrictions to knowledge[1]. Academics has been an important guise, which constantly embeds high culture within the purview of ‘knowledge’.

During the early colonial period, we know that privileged Indian classes took to westernization as a tool towards retention and consolidation of their social positions. 19th century was characterized by the Indian elite privileging ‘modern’ over ‘traditional’. Hinduism itself was ‘reformed’ and redefined in accordance with enlightenment norms and its version of Hinduism during the ‘golden era’. Someone like Ravi Verma would choose European Naturalism and oil paints, to paint Indian mythologies. In this case, one may read a certain hybridity. However, upon closer examination, we see that the mythologies he painted were valorized by European scholars, used by them to construct an Indian culture. As it turns out Ravi Verma was then an active reinforcer of orientalist constructs. We see that by the end of the 19th century European high culture, or culture with a capital ‘C’ became perpetuated amongst the Indian middle class and the elite. One phenomenon aptly illustrates the growing roots of European Enlightenment in India. The early part of the 19th century ‘Enlightenment societies’ like the ‘Society for Acquisition of General Knowledge’ were essentially nurtured and encouraged by ‘ friendly Europeans’. Few ‘enlightened’ Indians were members of such institutions. The latter half of 19th century saw new ‘Enlightenment societies’ exclusively for Indian members and devoted to impart knowledge about modern sciences and arts among Indians in their languages. Spaces, which were essentially created to nationalize modernism
[2].

Like in the west, 19th century India witnessed a proliferation of academic institutions, which under the guise of ‘impartiality’ and ‘imprecision’ sprayed ‘inculturated’ enlightenment upon the Indian masses. Here I quote Tejaswini Niranjana, P. Sudhir and Vivek Dhareswar from their introduction to the volume ‘ Interrogating Modernity’.


When sociologists, whether Indian or Euro-American study how the great tradition modernizes, or try to explain the nature of social change, there is an astonishing amount of consensus on how to characterize this transformation, the favorite catch-all terms being ‘Sanskritization’ and ‘Modernization’. This monolithic view of culture (as concept or as practice) precludes the possibility of seeing tradition constantly in the making, as strenuously contested and redefined by different communities. The investigators position themselves within disciplinary conventions in a way that exempts their own location as from scrutiny. Their attitudes towards ‘Indian culture’ are formed not only by the discipline but also by their class background. The distinction between ‘high and low’ cultures, for example, underpins a whole host of academic disciplines and institutional practices, so much so that when the object of study is constituted, the basic assumptions about culture and ‘Indians’ in general are unreflectively reiterated. What seems to happen is that as a result of the class/caste biases of their practitioners, the very configuration of the disciplines (whether humanities or social sciences) is shared by the assumption of the dominant culture.”
[3]
Much has been made of the Anglicist – Orientalist divide. The anglicist’s have been the ‘villains’ however one can’t ignore that the ‘orientalists’ played a key role in masking the violence of colonialism. The Orientalists relied heavily on a textualised notion of Indian culture to propagate the vision of a glorious Indian civilization in the distant past. The Anglicists on the other hand constructed Indian history as that of an irrational, immature, depraved and lazy lot. Their contradictions disappear in their assumptions that the immediate pre-colonial state of India was pathetic, and western intervention was the only solution to the problem. It was discoursed that only through scientific rationality could India progress and the future be salvaged.
When India began to articulate its anti colonial Programme, the socio-political location of its leadership began to reflect heavily on the movement. It is well known that the leaders of the anti colonial programme were largely from the bourgeoisie and were exposed to western education. This very class had initiated the ‘nationalisation of modernism’. Nationalist modernism perpetuated a myth about the historical necessity of colonial rule, arguing that the British rule in India was a double-edged sword, destructive as well as regenerative
[4]. Brutal economic and political suppression was juxtaposed against the modernist, scientific and socio cultural revolution that was being brought about in India. The nationalist movement aimed at getting rid of the brutal economic and political suppression so that the ‘now modern’ Indians could freely continue the Enlightenment revolution. The Indian bourgeoisie owed too much to newly emergent modernist institutions and to capitalism at large to seriously rethink or challenge the implications of modernism on the Indian social fabric. Thus Indian nationalism redeployed the Orientalist constructs of India’s past, asserting the antiquity, authenticity and continuity of ‘ Indian culture’. It propagated a historical need to modernize the nation and at the same time to preserve and valorize its golden past[5].[6]
When Havell and Coomarswamy exposed ‘Indian Art’, they were essentially adding another block to the construction of India’s great cultural heritage. The documentation of European Reactions to Indian art by Partha Mitter, doesn’t take into account the problems inherent in the glorification of ‘Indian Art’. He seems to take ‘Indian Art’ as given, and simply documents its taxonomical journeys. Early 20th century S.Asia might have been historically ill placed to reject Arnoldian cultural relativism, because the very essence of the anti-colonial discourse was embedded in it. However why does Mitter applaud this success? Is it because his class/caste position gains by this success?

Infact no scholar in the post-Havellian epoch has questioned the attribution of Art with a capital ‘A’ to a category of objects produced in Pre-modern India. Some scholars have voiced objection, arguing that attributing art hood to religious objects decontextulise them, negating the religious in favour of the Aesthetic. However, they largely go on to deduce that Indian Art is largely religio/spiritual in nature romanticizing it in the process….. further strengthening the ‘Other’ aspect of the orient. Dr. Parul Dave Mukherjee’s critique of (Spanish Indologist) Chantal Mallard’s location is extremely useful to understand this particular point of view, its problematics and is a powerful argument against the use of such binaries.

Having critiqued Partha Mitter’s ‘celebration’ of India’s attainment of art hood … having used quotes to implicate Indian academics of a class/caste bias, and continuous affiliation with orientalism, having made it clear that I subscribe to the theory of an overbearing imprint of ‘high culture’ on the construct of ‘India’ and its ‘India hood’. What am I trying to further? Am I at any juncture contesting Indian’s claim for an artistic heritage? No…. hoverer I am extremely uncomfortable with the construct of India and Indian Art which chiefly rests on the celebration of Art (with a capital ‘A’)

Griselda Pollock in her 1988 essay “Feminist Interventions in the histories of Art: An introduction:” argues that art history was a discursive practice, a form of making meaning that was imbedded within the attitudes of those- namely men- who as the dominate gender had inaugurated and supported it as an cultural institution. Her conclusion was that feminist scholarship no longer had a place within Art History, as it had been traditionally defined. She argues that the existing cannon is inappropriate and one needs a fresh cannon to find place for feminist art historiography within the mainstream.

This kind of a project to make the mainstream more inclusive, by incorporating cannons of the dominated shams from Foucault’s emphasis on the repressed of the west. I agree with Gayatri Spivak’s critique of Foucault on the grounds that he ignores the great power relation of repression and domination that ultimately connects west to the non-west. Infact Foucault’s such ‘ignorance’ makes me assume that the very project to make the mainstream more inclusive is to gain greater foothold within the dominant culture. However being a part of the dominant culture, implies being a part pf the cohesive mechanism that seeks to ensure the continuity of domination. ….and domination does not exist without ‘dominated’ . I am more comfortable with projects, which intend to attack/weaken the dominant culture, at the same time work towards a heterogeneous existence of locations.

From Coomarswamy to R. N. Misra, questions of authorship in Buddhist and Bramhanical art of ‘Pre-modern India’ has been extensively written upon. Textual sources such as the Mayamattam reveal that the Sthapti, Sutragrahins, Vardhaki and Taksaka worked together. Does the question of authorship rest upon the Sthapati or the Taksaka? Both Coomarswamy and R. N. Mishra have dealt exclusively with the Sutradhar / Sthapati. Of course any study of the position of Art and Artists has to be based on empirical evidences. Our obsession with empirical evidences seem to make us forget that it is only a particular class/caste, that would / could leave behind empirical evidences for our academic consumption. Can I deduce that the class/caste positions of the scholars interrogating this aspect of Indian Art didn’t / do not call for the destruction of the existing methodological cannons, or the class/caste sensitivities of the scholars do not provide enough motivation in this direction.

It is refreshing when Prof. R. N. Misra in “Art and Religion: A Study of Relations in Early India” (1992) questions whether the artists were allowed to enter the temple after their job was done. The post-vedic labeling of Silpins as sudras, prompts him to ask the question. But clearly the Sthapatis were not sudras. They seem to have had free access to religions texts……… and seem to be the ones who executed the crowning of the temple. When Prof. Misra is concerned whether the Shilpins were allowed inside a temple, he promptly assumes that they in fact wanted to. However one must note that we know alarmingly little about the religious practices of the sudras. Is it possible that they cared little about entering high brahminical temples. Like many of us who care little about visiting the temples of modern nation states, i.e. museums.

The nature of ‘Shilpin’ in the various stages of Indian history far exceeds the boundaries of art. R. N. Misra in his seminal ‘Ancient Artists and Art – Activity’ shows that the Vedas the Brahmanas, the Sutras, Samhitas and Buddhist texts such as Vinaya Pitaka and Digha Nikaya, carry so much contradictions regarding views on silpa and silpins that it became very difficult to draw a hard and fast line on their positions in the social hierarchy. None the less he asks “How did the sculptors and architects fare in this general class of silpins, and when did they came to have a distinct class of their own…”
[7]
Why does Prof.Misra especially seek out sculptors and architects in his volume titled ‘Artists and the Early Art Activity’. Subsequently in the same paragraph Prof. Misra makes it clear that he specifically talking about stone carvers and masons. Are we witnessing the European post enlightenment bias for stone sculpture and architecture underlining his quest to place the artist in ancient Indian art activity. Maybe it is the same bias that leads him to claim that sculptors and architects were a “distinct class in the general class of silpins”. Prof. Misra is definitely operating within the dynamics of ‘high culture’. Here I feel the need to step back and clarify that my critique of both Coomarswamy and R. N. Misra is not o their personal scholarship …… but on the kind of discourse each of them embodies and have embodies and have perpetuated through their seminal works.

In contemporary academic thought there has been a significant concern on how contemporary needs and experiences ‘colour’ our readings about our past present and future. Our contemporary nations of art keep us away from even discussing elements like hair dressing and flower decorations within the context of pre-modern Indian art. We are simply content with looking at the hair dresses as motifs in sculptures or paintings, most often to ascertain stylish genealogies and iconography. If at all such studies do take place……. they are ethnographic in nature and even struggle to be art historical. (Even without a capital ‘A’ and a capital ‘H’).
At no point am I trying to argue that the list of 64 kalas should be unreflectively reiterated. Nonetheless one has to be constantly conscious of what one chooses to underline and what one chooses to undermine. The act of calling a particular list bogus and another one (even relatively) accurate, tells a story about privileging certain discourses.

I am using a quote by Gayatri Spivak to elucidate my location. In her 1989 essay ‘Who Claims Alterity’ Spivak states-

“For the moment let us hold decolonization does quite seriously represent a rupture for the colonized. It is counter intuitive to point at its repetitive negotiations. But it is precisely these counter intuitive imagining that must be grasped when history is said to be remade, and a rupture is too easily declared because of the intuition of freedom that a merely political independence brings for a certain class. Such grasping will allow us to perceive that neo colonialism is a displaced repetition of the old lines laid down by colonialism………… Cultural communal and class heterogenity native to the subcontinent has been asserting itself inspite of the unifying hopes based on those assorted concept – metaphors: Nationalism, Secularism, Internationalism, Culturalism.
Any extended discussion of remaking history in decolonization must take into account the dangerous fragility and tenacity of these -concept metaphors. Briefly it seems possible to say that an alternative and perhaps equally fragile made of resistance to them can only come through a strategic acceptance of the centrifugal potential of the plurality and heterogeneous native to the subcontinent.”
[8]

Lack of materials about pre-modern Indian art has always been a prime excuse our obsession with dynastic/cultic art with near refusal to look beyond painting, stone sculpture and architecture. Certain questions have to be answered. This excuse becomes difficult to defend if one points out, that the largest category of surviving artifacts of the pre-modern period- namely potteries, find no place in art historical writings. Clearly it is not the material availability, but the dominant framework which results in the homogenous ‘History of Indian Art’ that is taught and studied.
Prezoisi is a key critic of Art History’s traditional alliance with Museology and connoisseurship . Following his key arguments many of us feel the need to drastically review the cannons of the discipline. What makes me uncomfortable is this question. Working within academics (the holy cow of elitism) how far is it possible for us not to work for the system that gives us our grants, scholarships, libraries, and salaries.?



also in continuation http://theblackyellowarrow.blogspot.in/2013/05/caste-inand-history-of-indian-art.html
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[1] Partha Chatterjee, A Possible India, OUP New Delhi 1997.[2] Partha Chatterjee , A Possible India , OUP New Delhi 1997[3] (ed) Tejaswini Niranjana, P. Sudhir, Vivek Dhareshwar, Interrogating Modernity, Seagull Books , Kolkatta 1993.pp 4-5.[4] Partha Chatterjee, A Possible India, OUP New Delhi 1997[5] (Ed) Tejaswini Niranjana, P. Sudhir, Vivek Dhareshwar, Interrogating Modernity, Seagull Books, Kolkatta 1993.[6] This problem arising out of the interlinks between colonialism and nationalism is comprehensively looked into in Partha Chaterjee’s Nationalist Thought and the Colonial World: A Derivative Discourse? OUP. Delhi 1986.[7] R N Misra, Ancient Artist and Art Activity, IIAS Simla 1975.pp[8] (Ed) Barbara Kruger, Phil Mariani, Remaking History, DIA Art Foundation, Discussions in Contemporary History, no.4, Seattle 1989,pp292.



Thursday, June 13, 2013

A fresh encounter

From the series 'Empowering Love’, Acrylic on canvas, Ritu Gupta



Over the last two years, personally there has been a deep and ever growing interest in art of the present times which flows in a stream other than the mainstream of contemporary art. The kind of art that does not get representation in block buster internationally curated samplings of Indian or south Asian art, yet remains deeply popular and continues to grow and flourish.  It is in fact this art that still manages a dialogue with the sections we can call ‘popular’ or even the middle class.  When Ritu Gupta shared her works with me the first thing that stuck me was the fluidity of her lines, and how (inspite) of her traditional thematic matter, how the works always felt to art of our times.
Parallel to globalization and the opening up of culture, one of the most important cultural developments in india post nineties has been a return to traditional Hinduism, marked by an envedours to (re)visit its roots, myths and meanings.  The shadow of this parallelism has a strong presence on the culture of art production and consumption in our times. Ritu’s work is heavily inspired by this schism that marks art making of our times. Beginning as a self-taught artist, unexposed to the great streams of modernism and post modernism changing notions of art and taste, Ritu began her journey out of a sheer passion to paint and decorate.  I find it interesting that though her later works tend to explore themes which are religious in nature; at the initiation point of her journey she felt the need the need to do a series like ‘Shades of India’. It will be a bit off the mark to call Shades of India her practice series…yes one does see that through this series she hones her skills, but this was also Ritu’s first foray into artistically exploring the nature and concept of India or Indian, personalizing it and at the same time refusing to get stuck into one representational technique. It is not an India Ritu saw through picture books, but the country and its villages are a integral part of her childhood travels and its nostalgia. Stylistically the series in naïve, reminding one of a hobby painter; however, looking at the entire series I could not help noticing the artistic determination to learn her medium and the sheer volume of the series speaks of the seriousness with which Ritu had begun to approach her practice.

By the time Ritu paints her next two series ‘Shree Yantra’  and Ganesha , a sudden (remarkable) formal maturity can be seen. Though the Ganesha series is much more playful (probably hinting at the artist’s deeply personal relationship with the mythology and the icon), the Shree Yantra series, is composed and shows that the artist for the first time is settling down into a visual language.  However, what is interesting about the Ganesha series is that it marks the transition where the artist learns the design value of form.  The iconic form of Ganesha so often loses its Puranic/mythological character or even its Vastu symbolism and instead becomes a vehicle for expressing the artist moods, passions and nostalgia.

The ‘Shree Yantra’ series is more complex to approach thematically .  The Sri Yantra ("sacred instrument") or Sri Chakra ("sacred wheel") is a yantra formed by nine interlocking triangles that surround and radiate out from the central (bindu) point, the junction point between the physical universe and its unmanifest source. Together the nine triangles are interlaced in such a way as to form 43 smaller triangles in a web symbolic of the entire cosmos or a womb symbolic of creation. Together they express Advaita or non-duality. This is surrounded by a lotus of eight petals, a lotus of sixteen petals, and an earth square resembling a temple with four doors. The various deities are said to be residing in the nine layers of the Sri Yantra. It represents the goddess in her form of Shri Lalita or Tripura Sundari, "the beauty of the three worlds (Heaven, Earth, Hell)". The worship of the Sri Chakra is central to the Shri Vidya system of worship.  The Shree Yantra, has nearly always been depicted in geometric abstraction. Ritu Gupta chooses a figurative path, and instead of being bogged down by the sterile geometricity of the Shree Yantra’ traditional iconography, she enters into the  Shri Vidya interpretation of this concept-metaphor as coming together of Shiva and Shakti; and her paintings represent the represents the union of Masculine and Feminine Divine. We see a free play of myth and iconography , even moving beyond Shiva and Shakti, we see Vishnu, Lakshmi, Parvaty-Ganesh, Kali and various such iconographic interpolations.  The geometric mandala often becomes a (but) a backdrop…and like in the Ganesha series, the works begin to reflect the artists understanding of childhood, masculinity, feminity, union and desire.

As one moves from ‘Shree Yantra’ to her latest series ‘Empowering Love’, the journey is no longer sharp and steep. One can see the artist settling down into an understanding of human form heavily inspired by the supple slenderness seen in the medieval Indian styles ranging from Chola bronzes, to Kangra paintings. However a key feature to note is that the artist does not seem to be making a school or style centric adaptation. Instead one is reminded of the early 20th century Bengal revivalists and their understanding of   an authentic (traditional) Indian form in terms of being soft, supple and feminine (as against the  hard(er) masculine  European understanding of human body. This series is devoted to the romantic (divine) love of Radha and Krishna, which in no way is explicitly referred to in iconographic terms. The reference is implicit and subtle. The artist does away with traditional iconography and instead chooses to focus on the mood of lovers. This series is has very close references to the late Guler and Kangra school not so much in treatment of foliage, moonlight and the romantic mood.  Yet again, she makes this traditional narrative her own, and by now begins to show a certain mastery over the understanding of the human body in compositional and design terms. Her urge to play and appropriate takes over again and she focusses of backgrounds, detailing and decorative motifs.


One can sense that the artist is at a brink, from here she will move forward in directions that might not yet be apparent in her works, by now she has made her line her own….walked the tricky grounds of working with tradition yet not becoming sterile. 

Friday, June 7, 2013

questions and dreams

why is something so much like nothing
it is dizzy to fly and to fall
and on top of that the earth is round
hearts and minds are increasingly square
why do you have to close your eyes to see something
with open eyes you could only dream
people don't fight for freedom to have an easy life
the fight is so hard that is almost impossible
yet everyday we try
the idea of freedom in this square square world
love is surprisingly a round word
but a contemporary heart is edgy and sharp
thankfully home is still a round word
they are turning our homes into houses
houses are so square
it is hard to touch freedom inside houses
maybe that is why the journey has to begin from there
when nothing becomes something
the squares will begin to melt
like how time melts between two silent lovers gazing into the stars







Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Srirangam an entry: In search of a methodology


A chapter from my research as  Nehru Trust & Victoria and Albert Museum Small Studies Research Grantee..also early experiments in art history writing.  

/As the train hauled into Srirangam railway station, there was some consciousness about entering the heart of the Kaveri delta. The anticipation of seeing one of the most significant Vaishnavite temples, also one of the largest temple complexes of Tamil Nadu was strong enough for me to be up before sunrise, bathe and yet be early for the morning darshan. As I soaked in the Srirangam town at the crack of dawn sipping coffee and buying flowers I realized that the town is heavily dependent on tourism and pilgrimage as sources of income; and one could clearly see it was not too much. As I went into the layered cave like temple towards the revered and enigmatic garbagriha for my darshan the  mind was pre-occupied with a question…….how can a ritually, culturally and art historically significant site like Sri Ranganathaswamy temple fail to draw a heavy stream of tourists and pilgrims?

Three days had passed I was walking aimlessly around Srirangam. When I had applied for the grant I had little idea that this will evolve to be a disciplinary crisis in a way. I had visited Srirangam many times before. With the department of art history MS University of Baroda I had visited Srirangam twice. Both were exhilarating experiences. However they were also codified experiences. We often headed straight to the Sriranganathaswamy Temple. There used to be a clear disciplinary brief….. (Dynastic affiliations, iconographic cycles, cultic affiliations, stylistic affiliation/locations…..how to look at a monument was already briefed to us way before we arrived. The observations based on which I had written my proposal for this research were made more during dinning, shopping, going for our Cauvery bath…..and moments like that.


          Suddenly my research and documentation required me to stop looking at the temple and start looking at the city. For the first two days out of sheer habit I kept waking up early morning and heading straight to the temple. On the third day I told myself this could not carry on. I had come with a limited budget, limited time and I needed to get a grip over my field visit.  My third day was spent walking around the town and having a sort of anthropological interaction with  rickshaw divers, shop owners, temple guides and others…..however the feeling of being blank walled by my object of study  was becoming stronger and stronger.

*****                                                                                                                        
After the darshana, surveying the various mandapas and sub-shrines, that as compared to complexes like Chidambaram or the Madurai Meenakshi, the Sri Ranganathaswamy temple complex is far from ordered. A simplistic semiotic equation drawing told me that what I was seeing was a lack of discipline[1] . Very   often within the same mandapas iconography, form and finish of the pillars, pillar capitals to the extent that it becomes really difficult to imagine that they might have been sculpted or conceived together. To put it in other words the over all plan of the sub-shrines and the mandapa was not well coordinate to my eyes at both the macro as well as the micro levels. It is not as if a temple had to be built all at once for the layers disappear in coordination. The Madurai Meenakshi and the Subramanyam shrine in relation to Brihadeswara Tanjavore are good examples.


Thirsty, under a hardening morning sun, I headed out towards a shop selling home made lemonade sweetened with honey. The spartan shop was adorned with three large representations of a goddess on a lion holding the sword as a chief attribute. The shop keeper explained that she was Bhadrakali (along with Munniamman the most popular goddess in the region), the chief goddess of the sudras.  The city of Srirangam seemed more dynamic and layered than I had anticipated.   The last thing I was expecting to encounter in this ‘eternal seat of Vishnu’ was an overwhelming popularity of Shaivite mother goddess. By now I was interacting with a small group of people who had all joined the conversation out of curiosity.


It was a surprise to learn that there was not a single Bhadrakali shrine within the first six gopurams of the temple complex (counting from the core outwards). Exclusions   can be interesting…… what disturbed me is that a temple which has grown and prospered over the years by being able to hegemonise   various cultic practices. Could it be an exploilitary exclusive institution in its home base? Quite an interesting   understanding of caste unfolded as we talked on, the general level of interest in our group being quite high. Every one who had gathered identified himself as shaiva and claimed that said that all shaivas were sudras. When I asked about the shaiva priests who conduct their religious rituals, it was very grudgingly admitted that there were some shaiva Brahmins……but very clearly they did not identify with these Brahmins at any level. There is no meat shop within one and a half kilometres of the forth gopuram when most of the Srirangam population eats meat.



The rest of the day was spent walking around the town studying how it spreads. Soon learnt that all the Vaishnavite priests stayed within the forth and fifth enclosures of the temple complex (the Shaivite priests are seemed so ‘invisible’ that my new guides could not tell me where they lived).  The rest of the town had fair degree of caste homogeneity though one could clearly see new and powerful class equations shaping the landscape of the city. Most of the river front was being occupied by the upper middle class hailing from Trichy. Exhausted and terribly sun burnt, I returned to the hotel………the strange town still very much on my mind. The grand gopurams, the gigantic enclosure walls, the maze of mandapas, the lavishly sculpted pillars of the ‘thousand pillared hall’ and the barely finished pillars of the same structure were images playing in a loop[2].


Too restless to sleep I picked up my travel guide[3]  to bed. Aimlessly flipping across pages I stopped and pinched my self for failing to notice that in the Srirangam delta itself, there was a huge Shiva temple in the village of Tiruvannakoil[4]. Don’t know how much sleep came my way that night but I was up at the crack of dawn. Sipping my coffee and drinking in the early morning flavours of kukmum, haldi and jasmine, I asked for directions to the Jambukeshwara temple.


The temple is situated on the other side of the railway track, and as I walked towards the connecting bridge, I began to notice a significant change in the cityscape. Form the eastern fringe of the town onwards right through to the Jambukeshwara temple, there was an extended village/slum dotted with Murugan, Munniamman, Bhadrakali and Ganesha. All the narratives about the Kaveri delta being hegemonised into Brahmanism during the Bhakti movement turned in my head as my eyes continued to hunt for at least one Vishnu or Shiva shrine. I had to wait till I reached the Jambukeshwara temple.


The temple is gorgeous and one of the finest examples of Nayaka period architecture. The planning and ordering of space far surpasses the Sri Ranganathaswamy temple and yet it became clear to me that it had long lost its ritual status and funding had dried up.  Over the last two days the structures through which I have studied temple and temple urbanization had come under serious strain and I desperately felt the need to push the refresh button…. By noon I was on the bus to Chidambaram to a new temple in a new city…….


One of my lasting memories of the five hour journey was searching the countryside for Shiva or Vishnu shrines and not finding any………….



[1] …and pointed out that I saw ‘discipline’ as being analogous to ‘ordered’.

[2] Rahul Bhattacharya ‘A short note on Srirangam’, Rathyatra, (forthcoming)
[3]  George Michell, Blue Guide – South India, A&C Black (publishers) limited, London 1997.
[4]  The Sri Jambukeshwara Temple is dedicated to Lord Siva and has five concentric walls and seven gopurams.  It is built around a Siva lingam partially submerged in water that comes from a spring in the sanctum sanctorum.  Non-Hindus are not allowed inside the temple.  The some parts of the complex were built around the same as Sri Ranganathaswamy temple. However the ‘stylistic quality’ of the pillar decorations, and attitude towards finish (especially if looks at the pushpapotitas and the crispness in the carving) puts it closer to Chidambaram. 

Monday, May 27, 2013

another

the black, yellow, blue and the other
in this summer even the greenest leaf fades
except those caressed by a river 

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Caste in/and History of Indian Art..


again written  years ago for a  site which is now dead ....revived to bring back some debates that got silenced during the art  boom...and   our henceforth continuing obsession with the market  


.. 
This is a critique of the caste/class locations of nationalist art historians, and how this has been an important influence on the way the role of the artist and the figure of the artists of ancient India were imagined, and how this in turn influenced the scholarship on pre-modern Indian art. Locating this bias on the role Indian middle class played in pre-Independence nationalism, this article enquires into the role of this middle class in forming nationalism and national identity through the discipline of Art History. One of the key implications on the history of art has been that centuries of caste violence has been written out of our history and that, art museums and history books betray the strong influence of colonial imaginings of Indian history as that of a trans-caste Hindu culture.


Like in the West, 19th century India witnessed a proliferation of academic institutions, which under the guise of ‘impartiality’ and ‘precision’ sprayed inculturated[1] Enlightenment upon the Indian masses. When India began to articulate its nationalist zeal, the socio-political location of its leadership began to reflect heavily on the movement. It is well known that the leaders of the anti-colonial program were largely from the middle class (sometimes described as the bourgeoisie) and were exposed to Western education. This very class had initiated the ‘nationalization of modernism’. Nationalist modernism perpetuated a myth about the historical necessity of colonial rule, arguing that the British rule in India was a double-edged sword, destructive as well as regenerative[2]. The Indian nationalistic leadership owed too much to newly emergent modernist institutions and to capitalism at large to seriously rethink or challenge the implications of modernism on the Indian social fabric.


Ravana cuts Jatayu's wings, Raja Ravi Varma, Oil on Canvas 1895           

                                   
Caravaggio, Death of the Virgin, 1605-06, Oil on Canvas

 19th century is characterized by the Indian elite privileging modern over traditional. Hinduism itself was ‘reformed’ and redefined in accordance with enlightenment norms and its version of Hinduism during the golden era. Someone like Raja Ravi Verma would choose European Naturalism and oil paints, to paint Indian mythologies. In this case one may read a certain hybridity. However upon closer examination, we see that the mythologies he painted were valorized by European scholars, used by them to construct an Indian culture. As it turns out Ravi Verma was then an actively reinforced of orientalist constructs.  

Similar to the search of a ‘great’ artistic tradition in the West, art historians began seeking out European-style individual masters in effect undermining the entire collective process of art creation in India.  Textual sources such as the Mayamattam (an 11th-Century text on art production written in Chidambaram and belonging to a literary category known as the Shipla Shashtras) discuss that the Sthapti, Sutragrahins, Vardhaki and Taksaka (different ranks within the pre-modern architecture guild) worked together. Does the question of authorship then rest only upon the Sthapati (sometimes translatable to mean an architect) or the Taksaka (meaning a sculptor)? Both Ananda Coomarswamy[3] and R. N. Mishra[4]  have dealt exclusively with the Sutradhar / Sthapati. Of course any study of the position of Art and Artists has to be based on empirical evidences. Our obsession with empirical evidences seems to make us forget that it is only a particular class/caste that would/could leave behind empirical evidences (like stone sculptures, temples or Shastric texts) for our academic consumption. Post-colonial historians have begun to allege that the class/caste positions of the scholars interrogating this aspect of Indian Art did not/ do not call for the destruction of the existing procedural cannons, or the class/caste sensitivities of the scholars do not provide enough motivation in this direction.

narrative relief showing  sculptors at work, Dynasty, Candella , 11th Century


It is refreshing when Prof. R. N. Misra in “Art and Religion: A Study of Relations in Early India” (1992) questions whether the artists were allowed to enter the temple after their job was done. The post-Vedic labeling of shilpins (artist) as sudras, prompts him to ask the question. But clearly the sthapatis   were not sudras. They seem to have had free access to religions texts and seem to be the ones who executed the crowning of the temple. When Prof. Misra is concerned whether the shilpins were allowed inside a temple, he promptly assumes that they in fact wanted to, whereas it is possible that they had their own gods and goddesses and did not revere upper class deities. We know alarmingly little about the religious practices of the sudras. Is it possible that they cared little about entering high Brahmanical temples? Like many illiterate and poor Indians, who care little about visiting the temples of modern nation states, like the museums?





[1] A term coined by Rev. Arnold Matthew to describe Christianity’s adaptation to local cultures
[2] Partha Chatterjee, A Possible India, OUP New Delhi 1997
[3] Ananda Coomaraswamy The Transformation of Nature in Art (1934). South Asia Books, 1994 edition
[4] R N Misra, Ancient Artist and Art Activity, IIAS Simla 1975

this is no text art


push-button emails bringing heartless dreams
afternoon wakings and their static nightmares
insipid promises of disgusted souls
menstrual  fantasies are my contemporary heritage


fragmented archives of deleted dreams
coldest city that the heart ever knew
dead awakenings screaming 'money-honey'
lost mobile phones are my postmodern utopias

art galleries and their desperate inventions
everyone wants to eat the same crystal pie
the shining impotency of expression
menstrual  fantasies are my only contemporary heritage











Monday, May 13, 2013

thy name is red


Staring
waiting for the morning to come
some hours after it arrived
fighting to rescue words
some can be rescued no more
a cup full of coffee
meanings have changed too much
some miles to run
that's how poor souls fly
no music this morning
the birds have taken flight
leather wallets and masculinity
red shall keep me alive











Sunday, May 12, 2013

Art-Value-Culture

taken from MONA: A Pop-Up Museum..http://www.detroitmona.com/mona_pop-up_museum.htm



It’s a curse …it’s a blessing…spending time inside art galleries challenge basic theoretical presumptions so hard that it forces you into some kind of poststructuralist nirvana, but sometimes it just sends a chill down your spine. In one such art gallery in Delhi I happened to overhear a conversation “the middle-class” has no space in Art” said someone, “yes” came a voice in agreement...“only for the very rich or the very poor”… as I walked on in the gallery the conversation trailed off. There was feeling of being stunned. What baffled me most was that we live in a age where the business class never ignores the middleclass, and makes it a point to ensure that middle class is the highest consumer of the product or the brand.  Depending on how the particular business likes to play the number game, the refined capitalist mindset has figured that the middle class plays a key role in sales or marketing.  So while brands like Coke will look at the middle class as the largest market where actual sales of their products happen, brands like Christian Dior ensures that the middle class buys into their branding and ‘generation of desire’. In fact it is well known that an expensive niche brand stands on the grounds of the middle class desiring it and only the rich being able to afford it. That’s why even if the precuts are only available in super posh shops, the brand is available to the middle class through media campaigns. So when the most expensive  Haute couture brands don't feel that the middle class is irrelevant, how come the thoughts echo hard inside our art galleries? Maybe this betrays a deep seated feudal mindset that makes it impossible for art galleries in India to adjust to high capitalist approach to marketing.

The other reason why the chill traveled up my spine is that expect for a few super stars, most of our artist, viewers and writers belong to the middle class, how can the main pillars of the industry be so dis regarded by people who are entrenched and market leaders (such was the position of the people involved). Then, it is not just about the fine arts industry, in contemporary times, money is fast emerging as the sole symbol for value. We have lost the ability to see value in money less contexts. When we were in Art College, there was an awareness that so and so broke record in auction houses, but that for even once affected art historical analysis of an artist or the respect that circulated in peer groups.  This is increasingly un imaginable now a days. Moreover works of tremendous value like heritage sites and the murals at Shantiniketan lie in sheer neglect. Artist lead initiatives have become dodos, living masters like KG Subramanium and Joiti Bhatt are almost forgotten in the centers like Delhi and Mumbai, and we have one of the smallest artist banks and print making is almost dead. Maybe these are signs of what happens to an industry leaders think that the middle class does not matter.

There are positives that we may get if we expand out horizons of taste. India as a country is going through so many problems; it would help if the youth of the country contributed some time to volunteering. But they are so busy, when will they find time. There were time s when artists were extremely political in the lives they lead, they fought freedom movements and went to jail, yet in their art they explored humour, or the human form…or even the beauty of landscapes. Today couch potatoes make political art. We deserve what we get.

And we are all suffering from it. This deep seated feudal attitude has ensured that we have not yet developed into a recognized industry, and we continue to grope with fakes, lack of price control, lack of investors’ confidence and governmental neglect in terms of funding and regulation. I often ask my friends that unless we have long queues of visitors outside the NGMAs, and till art events attract a much wider audience, in a country like India, why the government would invest in art?  Sadly its’ a question no one is willing to take.

written as editorial for for the 39th issue of Art&deal Magazine Monday, 11 July 2011 at 18:33
Art&Deal Magazine 39th issue Cover 


Law making , Cultural shifts + life of Devadasis



Woke up this morning heard today is 'Mother's Day'. Somehow felt like digging this write up... written  years ago for a  site which is now dead .  


This article focuses on the mysterious, controversial, and often misunderstood tradition of Devadasis in India, and follows the effects of modernism and particularly colonial law making on the followers of this cult. In contemporary times it is the Yellamma cult, which continues and furthers the practice. In the recent years, various Governments have restricted their rituals and this control has led to several violent and caste-based conflicts. History of the deccan tells us that the ritual of temple women (or devadasis) was well established by the 10th century A.D.

It is not clear how the Yellamma cult has its roots in the Devadasi tradition, as the Devadasi tradition was an upper cast mainstream Hindu practice, whilst the followers of Yellamma, who are mostly  poor, and  illiterate, and belong to backward castes. Moreover since it is a Dalit practice, it is difficult to trace any ancient or medieval texts, which can   help to historicize the practice. However presently, it is the Yellamma cult which stills vehemently follows the devadasi tradition, making the enforcement of the 1934 Devadasi Security Act (the act through which the Devadasi system was banned through out India) difficult. Even the Jogini Abolition Act of ’88 hasn’t been able to totally root out the practice[1].

According to Shastric texts, the Devadasis were invariably women, typically resided in the temples, and were educated in arts and literature. This is in part verified as the largest body of women’s writings from ancient and medieval India is written by the Devadasis. Moreover these women appear most frequently in inscriptions as ‘donors’, making gifts of various kinds to the temples themselves. Compared to other women and men associated with temples, Devadasis appear as donors in increasing numbers throughout the course of the Chola period, and as time passed, were increasingly implicated in the life of numerous temples throughout Tamilnadu as a consequence of their donations. Their appearance as donors leads to the question of their possession of property and wealth[2].

However, with the beginning of British law making in India, the traditional social fiber of India, went through major transformations. When the Europeans first arrived in India, they were surprised to see girls who sang and danced in temples. They called these girls as “nautch-girls”. For a European mind, a dancing girl could be just an entertainer performing for the pleasure of rich men. The idea of art as an offering to God was unknown to them. To their outlook, a dancing girl was showing off her body and was no better than a prostitute. Yet, there is no mention in any historical book written by early European visitors to indicate any evidence of prostitution on the part of “temple-maids” or “nautch-girls”. Pressure from the colonial "reform" movement led to suppression of the practice of Devadasis. Adherents of this movement considered devadasis immoral since they engaged in sex outside of the Christian concept of marriage, and described them as prostitutes. This coupled with the British takeover of the revenue rights of temples resulted in the traditional support system of the Devadasis falling apart, severely affecting their social and economic status and (ironically) leaving the Devadasis no option away from prostitution. Devadasis who did not become prostitutes had to struggle and survive as agricultural bonded laborers[3]. In the course of the early 20th century; the upper caste/class educated Indians had moved away from the practice, but the practice spread amongst the lower castes, and has metamorphosed into an extremely exploitative tradition.  


In different regions of Deccan they go by different names but they are all variations of a similar tradition of sexual exploitation of poor, illiterate Dalit women in the name of religion. These girls are married off to the local deity, Yellamma, making goddesses of them and forfeiting their own right to marry. Then as joginis or "servants of god" they become the property of the men in the village. On the night of her initiation, after reaching puberty, the young girl is normally offered to an upper caste village elder or landlord. As months and years go by, most of the men in the village end up exploiting her. Even today, there are an estimated of over 60,000 joginis spread all over the deccan. In the remote villages there is no one to implement the law. Often people are unaware that it’s an illegal practice[4].  




[2] Donors, Devotees, and Daughters of God: Temple Women in Medieval Tamilnadu
Leslie C. Orre, New York: Oxford University Press, 2000
[3] Asha Ramesh, Impact of Legislative Prohibition of the Devadasi Practice in Karnataka: A Study, (Carried out under financial assistance from NORAD), May 1993.