02-18-2005, 10:09 PM
http://www.indianexpress.com/full_story....t_id=64873
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin-->Our legacy of modernity
Towards an Indian aesthetic that integrates and excites
JAITHIRTH RAOÂ
Jaithirth Rao I am trying to piece together seemingly unrelated views on the Indian aesthetic sensibility and create an integrated perspective. I work on my laptop sitting in a Rishi Valley guest house. The atmosphere is one of enormous silence interrupted by birdsong. It is an ideal environment to contemplate the aesthetic heritage of this puzzling peninsula.
Let us start with Jamini Roy who held that the only authentic Indian experience was/is the Adivasi one. Let us then jump to John Keay who sees sculpture as central to our visual aesthetic. Even our architecture is sculptural according to him. And of course, one can never forget Ananda Kentish Coomaraswamy, can one? He was concerned about a loss of something central to our heritage as we deal with âmodernityâ â and I now suppose post-modernity.
First of all, let me simply assert that there is an Indian sensibility. This is not to deny our membership of the human race or that aesthetic experiences have a common basis across all of humankind. In fact, in asserting the particular, we affirm the universal.
Jamini Roy, grandchild of the Bengali renaissance, had extraordinary insight. Adivasis may not be the only ones who count. But they are central to the evolution of our collective consciousness in many ways. Ahobilam, Kalahasti and Srisailam in Andhra, Puri in Orissa, Sabarimala in Kerala, Pandharpur in Maharashtra are all symbols of the enduring presence of the Adivasi psyche in our contemporary religious fashions. As they are central to present-day religion, so are they central to contemporary art. It is not just Roy himself, but Sultan Ali, Swaminathan, Sooriyamurthy and so many others who have consciously and unconsciously worked out this linkage.
Our ancestors did not just live in caves, they loved, cherished and embellished caves. Our temples and monasteries have literally been dug out of and dug into the rocks of the land. Mahabalipuram, Elephanta, Udayagiri, the gigantic Kailasa temple in Ellora, Sittanavasal, the list goes on. The Pallavas were of particular significance. Mamallaâs legacy was that he left models for future generations of artists. They have not let him down. All over India, even free-standing buildings (Khajuraho, the Taj Mahal, Ranakpur and so on) have been literally âcarvedâ and made to stand on the landscape. It is not accidental that âsthapatiâ can mean both a sculptor and an architect. This sculptural tradition of ours is under assault both by the PWD and by âreinforced cement concreteâ. But of course, the country never ceases to surprise. I was recently walking past Charles Correaâs Jeevan Bharati building in Connaught Place in Delhi and I was struck by the sculptural quality of the building.
It is not just in architecture. The overwhelming influence of sculpture on Indian dance cannot be underestimated. Watching a performance of Odissi or Kuchipudi or Bharata Natyam is really watching the coming to life of exquisite statues. No wonder so many of our best dancers study temple friezes in order to derive inspiration for their choreography.
All traditional cultures and civilisations fear change (a one-word description of our disturbing encounter with modernity!). New mediums, new contexts, new technologies, will they snuff out something that has been enduring and endearing in our traditions, the great ones as well as the little ones? Aniline dyes (the pet hate of Coomaraswamy) and RCC (my pet hate) all have a tendency to destroy the specific and reinforce the boredom of global homogenisation.
Increasingly, I am coming to the conclusion that fear is a misplaced emotion. The consciousness of the robust strength of our traditions and of our ability to withstand the measured judgements of ages should give us self-confidence.
Adivasis, hunter-gatherers by tradition, who should have disappeared under the assault of agricultural and industrial progress, have amazing vitality. Kamaladevi Chattopadhyaya helped the âParamparik Karigarâ reconnect with contemporary audiences and today we have a Baghel from Bastar who keeps alive the glorious Indian âlost waxâ process and deals with a universal aesthetic that is not just modern or post-modern, it is timeless and immediate.
Let us not forget that Ramanand Sagar in recent times created literally a new version of the most enduring story of our land. Those who donât know should be told that Kamban and Tulsidas in their time were criticised for creating new-fangled low-brow versions of the Ramayana. They survived the criticism, and of course their works are classics today.
In infotech terms, India would be referred to as a âcontent-richâ environment. And irrespective of context or media, let us not forget that âcontent is always kingâ. We will fight global homogenisation not out of fear but simply because out of the well-springs of our collective unconscious will emerge so much locally differentiated, but universally valid, pleasing, enchanting, inspiring stories that we will supply the world of our children with more Panchatantras.
I for one fear no âmodernityâ. It can and will be an opportunity. In the volcanic ash of Pompeii, archeologists discovered ivory combs and mirrors from India. If the Indian artisan of 70 AD could compete in the global marketplace so can the Indian artist of today. Coomaraswamy was a child of the colonial-imperial experience and had to deal with the resultant fears. In large measure due to the work of pioneers like him, we can be confident without being shrill.
Where does that leave us? Constant reconnection is important. Every society needs its Jamini Roys, practitioners who reach back to roots in an unusual and positively asymmetric manner. He reminds me of T.S. Eliot who sparked off a revival of interest in the metaphysical poets who had been all but forgotten. And we are lucky, we have so many traditions to choose from, to dissect and to re-integrate as we wish. Truly, here our cultural diversity is our ultimate strength. We are like biologists who can gorge themselves on the study of multiple species. We have that in the aesthetic arena.
The nexus between sculpture, architecture and dance, building on top of Keayâs insights, possibly extending it to an artist-artisan nexus, is worth pushing the envelope on. And of course be wary of assaults. But there is no need to fear them. Confidence without shrillness will be our best tribute to Coomaraswamy.
The writer is chairman and CEO, Mphasis. Write to him at jerryrao@expressindia.com<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin-->Our legacy of modernity
Towards an Indian aesthetic that integrates and excites
JAITHIRTH RAOÂ
Jaithirth Rao I am trying to piece together seemingly unrelated views on the Indian aesthetic sensibility and create an integrated perspective. I work on my laptop sitting in a Rishi Valley guest house. The atmosphere is one of enormous silence interrupted by birdsong. It is an ideal environment to contemplate the aesthetic heritage of this puzzling peninsula.
Let us start with Jamini Roy who held that the only authentic Indian experience was/is the Adivasi one. Let us then jump to John Keay who sees sculpture as central to our visual aesthetic. Even our architecture is sculptural according to him. And of course, one can never forget Ananda Kentish Coomaraswamy, can one? He was concerned about a loss of something central to our heritage as we deal with âmodernityâ â and I now suppose post-modernity.
First of all, let me simply assert that there is an Indian sensibility. This is not to deny our membership of the human race or that aesthetic experiences have a common basis across all of humankind. In fact, in asserting the particular, we affirm the universal.
Jamini Roy, grandchild of the Bengali renaissance, had extraordinary insight. Adivasis may not be the only ones who count. But they are central to the evolution of our collective consciousness in many ways. Ahobilam, Kalahasti and Srisailam in Andhra, Puri in Orissa, Sabarimala in Kerala, Pandharpur in Maharashtra are all symbols of the enduring presence of the Adivasi psyche in our contemporary religious fashions. As they are central to present-day religion, so are they central to contemporary art. It is not just Roy himself, but Sultan Ali, Swaminathan, Sooriyamurthy and so many others who have consciously and unconsciously worked out this linkage.
Our ancestors did not just live in caves, they loved, cherished and embellished caves. Our temples and monasteries have literally been dug out of and dug into the rocks of the land. Mahabalipuram, Elephanta, Udayagiri, the gigantic Kailasa temple in Ellora, Sittanavasal, the list goes on. The Pallavas were of particular significance. Mamallaâs legacy was that he left models for future generations of artists. They have not let him down. All over India, even free-standing buildings (Khajuraho, the Taj Mahal, Ranakpur and so on) have been literally âcarvedâ and made to stand on the landscape. It is not accidental that âsthapatiâ can mean both a sculptor and an architect. This sculptural tradition of ours is under assault both by the PWD and by âreinforced cement concreteâ. But of course, the country never ceases to surprise. I was recently walking past Charles Correaâs Jeevan Bharati building in Connaught Place in Delhi and I was struck by the sculptural quality of the building.
It is not just in architecture. The overwhelming influence of sculpture on Indian dance cannot be underestimated. Watching a performance of Odissi or Kuchipudi or Bharata Natyam is really watching the coming to life of exquisite statues. No wonder so many of our best dancers study temple friezes in order to derive inspiration for their choreography.
All traditional cultures and civilisations fear change (a one-word description of our disturbing encounter with modernity!). New mediums, new contexts, new technologies, will they snuff out something that has been enduring and endearing in our traditions, the great ones as well as the little ones? Aniline dyes (the pet hate of Coomaraswamy) and RCC (my pet hate) all have a tendency to destroy the specific and reinforce the boredom of global homogenisation.
Increasingly, I am coming to the conclusion that fear is a misplaced emotion. The consciousness of the robust strength of our traditions and of our ability to withstand the measured judgements of ages should give us self-confidence.
Adivasis, hunter-gatherers by tradition, who should have disappeared under the assault of agricultural and industrial progress, have amazing vitality. Kamaladevi Chattopadhyaya helped the âParamparik Karigarâ reconnect with contemporary audiences and today we have a Baghel from Bastar who keeps alive the glorious Indian âlost waxâ process and deals with a universal aesthetic that is not just modern or post-modern, it is timeless and immediate.
Let us not forget that Ramanand Sagar in recent times created literally a new version of the most enduring story of our land. Those who donât know should be told that Kamban and Tulsidas in their time were criticised for creating new-fangled low-brow versions of the Ramayana. They survived the criticism, and of course their works are classics today.
In infotech terms, India would be referred to as a âcontent-richâ environment. And irrespective of context or media, let us not forget that âcontent is always kingâ. We will fight global homogenisation not out of fear but simply because out of the well-springs of our collective unconscious will emerge so much locally differentiated, but universally valid, pleasing, enchanting, inspiring stories that we will supply the world of our children with more Panchatantras.
I for one fear no âmodernityâ. It can and will be an opportunity. In the volcanic ash of Pompeii, archeologists discovered ivory combs and mirrors from India. If the Indian artisan of 70 AD could compete in the global marketplace so can the Indian artist of today. Coomaraswamy was a child of the colonial-imperial experience and had to deal with the resultant fears. In large measure due to the work of pioneers like him, we can be confident without being shrill.
Where does that leave us? Constant reconnection is important. Every society needs its Jamini Roys, practitioners who reach back to roots in an unusual and positively asymmetric manner. He reminds me of T.S. Eliot who sparked off a revival of interest in the metaphysical poets who had been all but forgotten. And we are lucky, we have so many traditions to choose from, to dissect and to re-integrate as we wish. Truly, here our cultural diversity is our ultimate strength. We are like biologists who can gorge themselves on the study of multiple species. We have that in the aesthetic arena.
The nexus between sculpture, architecture and dance, building on top of Keayâs insights, possibly extending it to an artist-artisan nexus, is worth pushing the envelope on. And of course be wary of assaults. But there is no need to fear them. Confidence without shrillness will be our best tribute to Coomaraswamy.
The writer is chairman and CEO, Mphasis. Write to him at jerryrao@expressindia.com<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->