The Babu and the Bazaar: Art from 19th and Early 20th Century Bengal

Kamaley Kamini or ‘the maiden of the lotus’ enjoys the unique distinction of being a Hindu sea goddess in a religion that forbade oceanic travel on account of losing one’s religion/caste after crossing the kalapani. She was originally a folk deity identified as Abhaya who instilled courage in sailors, but was later incorporated into Puranic Hinduism. The Chandimangal Kavya, a pre-Chaitanya era text, attributes Abhaya to another deity named Chandi. In this story, she is found by sailors lost in the middle of the ocean, sitting in a lotus-grove and surrounded by innumerable servants. She holds an elephant in her hands, whom she periodically consumes and regurgitates (a metaphor for the destruction and regeneration of worlds), pausing to indulge in an intoxicated tandava nritya. Since the iconography is visually identical to Ganesha Janani, at times, the two characters would be mistakenly replaced by Parvati and Ganesha, as is the case in the coloured painting. On close inspection, this imagery is not of parental love because the goddess holds the infant forcefully by his tusk. Though both Chandi and Parvati are claimed to be forms of the same goddess Shakti, the latter’s presence is one of the rare instances of erroneous iconographies found in the exhibition.

According to the Markandeya Purana, Kali manifested from Durga’s brow as personified anger during her battle with Raktabija, an asura or demigod who could clone himself from every drop of shed blood that touched the earth. Kalil, overpowered with rage, defeated the aura and continued on a path of rampage and destruction that threatened to destroy the world. In order to control her, Shiva hid among corpses in the battlefield, and as soon as Kali stepped on him, she regained her senses – her tongue hanging loose in embarrassment. This story, steeped in patriarchy, is based on an older tantric narrative – an iconography of celestial balance where Kali is the unstoppable force, and Shiva the immovable object. Kali’s hand point towards each cardinal direction, and her omnipresence is shown through the placement of her feet: the stretched foot behind her is for the past, and the other on Shiva is for the present. The tongue pushing forward from her mouth looks out to the future.

The English inscription on the bottom left corner correctly assumes, ‘This is not a picture of the Hindoo gods.’ The illustration shows a Sheyal Raja or a fox king (alternatively, a jackal king) holding court in the forest. The ruler is flanked by two attendants – one holds an umbrella while the other airs him with a large fan. A stenographer writes the king’s diktat in Bengali, English, and Urdu, all three being major languages used in Bengal. The king’s royal guards are seen beating two hunting dogs that have wandered into the camp. Bengal had a strong oral and folk storytelling tradition and this illustration was inspired by one such story. The sheyal raja was a popular trope in children’s Bengali literature too, and was used by authors such as Upendrakishore Roy Chowdhury (1863 – 1915).

Kamaley Kamini or ‘the maiden of the lotus’ enjoys the unique distinction of being a Hindu sea goddess in a religion that forbade oceanic travel on account of losing one’s religion/caste after crossing the kalapani. She was originally a folk deity identified as Abhaya who instilled courage in sailors, but was later incorporated into Puranic Hinduism. The Chandimangal Kavya, a pre-Chaitanya era text, attributes Abhaya to another deity named Chandi. In this story, she is found by sailors lost in the middle of the ocean, sitting in a lotus-grove and surrounded by innumerable servants. She holds an elephant in her hands, whom she periodically consumes and regurgitates (a metaphor for the destruction and regeneration of worlds), pausing to indulge in an intoxicated tandava nritya. Since the iconography is visually identical to Ganesha Janani, at times, the two characters would be mistakenly replaced by Parvati and Ganesha, as is the case in the coloured painting. On close inspection, this imagery is not of parental love because the goddess holds the infant forcefully by his tusk. Though both Chandi and Parvati are claimed to be forms of the same goddess Shakti, the latter’s presence is one of the rare instances of erroneous iconographies found in the exhibition.

According to the Markandeya Purana, Kali manifested from Durga’s brow as personified anger during her battle with Raktabija, an asura or demigod who could clone himself from every drop of shed blood that touched the earth. Kalil, overpowered with rage, defeated the aura and continued on a path of rampage and destruction that threatened to destroy the world. In order to control her, Shiva hid among corpses in the battlefield, and as soon as Kali stepped on him, she regained her senses – her tongue hanging loose in embarrassment. This story, steeped in patriarchy, is based on an older tantric narrative – an iconography of celestial balance where Kali is the unstoppable force, and Shiva the immovable object. Kali’s hand point towards each cardinal direction, and her omnipresence is shown through the placement of her feet: the stretched foot behind her is for the past, and the other on Shiva is for the present. The tongue pushing forward from her mouth looks out to the future.

The English inscription on the bottom left corner correctly assumes, ‘This is not a picture of the Hindoo gods.’ The illustration shows a Sheyal Raja or a fox king (alternatively, a jackal king) holding court in the forest. The ruler is flanked by two attendants – one holds an umbrella while the other airs him with a large fan. A stenographer writes the king’s diktat in Bengali, English, and Urdu, all three being major languages used in Bengal. The king’s royal guards are seen beating two hunting dogs that have wandered into the camp. Bengal had a strong oral and folk storytelling tradition and this illustration was inspired by one such story. The sheyal raja was a popular trope in children’s Bengali literature too, and was used by authors such as Upendrakishore Roy Chowdhury (1863 – 1915).

Kamaley Kamini or ‘the maiden of the lotus’ enjoys the unique distinction of being a Hindu sea goddess in a religion that forbade oceanic travel on account of losing one’s religion/caste after crossing the kalapani. She was originally a folk deity identified as Abhaya who instilled courage in sailors, but was later incorporated into Puranic Hinduism. The Chandimangal Kavya, a pre-Chaitanya era text, attributes Abhaya to another deity named Chandi. In this story, she is found by sailors lost in the middle of the ocean, sitting in a lotus-grove and surrounded by innumerable servants. She holds an elephant in her hands, whom she periodically consumes and regurgitates (a metaphor for the destruction and regeneration of worlds), pausing to indulge in an intoxicated tandava nritya. Since the iconography is visually identical to Ganesha Janani, at times, the two characters would be mistakenly replaced by Parvati and Ganesha, as is the case in the coloured painting. On close inspection, this imagery is not of parental love because the goddess holds the infant forcefully by his tusk. Though both Chandi and Parvati are claimed to be forms of the same goddess Shakti, the latter’s presence is one of the rare instances of erroneous iconographies found in the exhibition.

According to the Markandeya Purana, Kali manifested from Durga’s brow as personified anger during her battle with Raktabija, an asura or demigod who could clone himself from every drop of shed blood that touched the earth. Kalil, overpowered with rage, defeated the aura and continued on a path of rampage and destruction that threatened to destroy the world. In order to control her, Shiva hid among corpses in the battlefield, and as soon as Kali stepped on him, she regained her senses – her tongue hanging loose in embarrassment. This story, steeped in patriarchy, is based on an older tantric narrative – an iconography of celestial balance where Kali is the unstoppable force, and Shiva the immovable object. Kali’s hand point towards each cardinal direction, and her omnipresence is shown through the placement of her feet: the stretched foot behind her is for the past, and the other on Shiva is for the present. The tongue pushing forward from her mouth looks out to the future.

The English inscription on the bottom left corner correctly assumes, ‘This is not a picture of the Hindoo gods.’ The illustration shows a Sheyal Raja or a fox king (alternatively, a jackal king) holding court in the forest. The ruler is flanked by two attendants – one holds an umbrella while the other airs him with a large fan. A stenographer writes the king’s diktat in Bengali, English, and Urdu, all three being major languages used in Bengal. The king’s royal guards are seen beating two hunting dogs that have wandered into the camp. Bengal had a strong oral and folk storytelling tradition and this illustration was inspired by one such story. The sheyal raja was a popular trope in children’s Bengali literature too, and was used by authors such as Upendrakishore Roy Chowdhury (1863 – 1915).

Expansively detailed, the painting is inspired by the iconic civil war from the Mahabharata. The warring groups are given equal space on the canvas, with the Kauravas occupying the left and the Pandavas the right. Krishna commands Arjuna's chariot, while Hanuman – brother to Bhima, as both were fathered by the god Vayu – sits on top holding the pennant. An infinite horde of soldiers line up for each faction, so vast in numbers that they recede into the distant horizon. The battlefield is occupied by archers, war elephants, swordsmen and pikemen on horsebacks, and chariots, while arrows fly from all sides. The Pandava camp is visible on the right side of the canvas, with additional soldiers ready to fight in box formations. The uniforms are reminiscent of soldiers of the East India Company, while Bhima, seen charging with a club, adorns full-body armor.

In Madan Bhasma, an enraged Shiva has broken through Kama’s illusion and proceeds to incinerate him by opening his third-eye for the first time. Kama’s partner Rati shrieks in horror while the gods, invoked by Kama in desperation, peek from the clouds in shock. Once his anger subsides, Parvati persuades Shiva to restore Kama’s life. He is given a formless existence, the only such instance in the Hindu pantheon, prophesied to be born again in a physical body as Krishna’s child. The tale cements a connection between mainstream theism and Vaishnavism. Additionally, the apocalyptic fire raging out of Shiva’s eye was contained in a horse by Brahma, prophesied to be let loose at the end of time.

In the painting we see Krishna and Balarama amidst gopalas and gopis, with innumerable animals. The painting showcases a struggle these unknown oil painters faced in emulating perspective whilst maintaining traditional aesthetics – Krishna and Balarama dwarf all the characters, whereas the foreground boats seem miniscule in comparison. Despite a superficial attempt to emulate the world of Vrindavan realistically, the painting maintains a lyrical quality. The picture space is broken down in such a way that most characters (both human and animal) face the two brothers placed at the centre. Similarly, a visual balance is created by pairing the large Kadamba tress above the brothers with two smaller trees at each end of the canvas, as well as by the slight inward slope of the horizon towards the centre.

Expansively detailed, the painting is inspired by the iconic civil war from the Mahabharata. The warring groups are given equal space on the canvas, with the Kauravas occupying the left and the Pandavas the right. Krishna commands Arjuna's chariot, while Hanuman – brother to Bhima, as both were fathered by the god Vayu – sits on top holding the pennant. An infinite horde of soldiers line up for each faction, so vast in numbers that they recede into the distant horizon. The battlefield is occupied by archers, war elephants, swordsmen and pikemen on horsebacks, and chariots, while arrows fly from all sides. The Pandava camp is visible on the right side of the canvas, with additional soldiers ready to fight in box formations. The uniforms are reminiscent of soldiers of the East India Company, while Bhima, seen charging with a club, adorns full-body armor.

In Madan Bhasma, an enraged Shiva has broken through Kama’s illusion and proceeds to incinerate him by opening his third-eye for the first time. Kama’s partner Rati shrieks in horror while the gods, invoked by Kama in desperation, peek from the clouds in shock. Once his anger subsides, Parvati persuades Shiva to restore Kama’s life. He is given a formless existence, the only such instance in the Hindu pantheon, prophesied to be born again in a physical body as Krishna’s child. The tale cements a connection between mainstream theism and Vaishnavism. Additionally, the apocalyptic fire raging out of Shiva’s eye was contained in a horse by Brahma, prophesied to be let loose at the end of time.

In the painting we see Krishna and Balarama amidst gopalas and gopis, with innumerable animals. The painting showcases a struggle these unknown oil painters faced in emulating perspective whilst maintaining traditional aesthetics – Krishna and Balarama dwarf all the characters, whereas the foreground boats seem miniscule in comparison. Despite a superficial attempt to emulate the world of Vrindavan realistically, the painting maintains a lyrical quality. The picture space is broken down in such a way that most characters (both human and animal) face the two brothers placed at the centre. Similarly, a visual balance is created by pairing the large Kadamba tress above the brothers with two smaller trees at each end of the canvas, as well as by the slight inward slope of the horizon towards the centre.

Expansively detailed, the painting is inspired by the iconic civil war from the Mahabharata. The warring groups are given equal space on the canvas, with the Kauravas occupying the left and the Pandavas the right. Krishna commands Arjuna's chariot, while Hanuman – brother to Bhima, as both were fathered by the god Vayu – sits on top holding the pennant. An infinite horde of soldiers line up for each faction, so vast in numbers that they recede into the distant horizon. The battlefield is occupied by archers, war elephants, swordsmen and pikemen on horsebacks, and chariots, while arrows fly from all sides. The Pandava camp is visible on the right side of the canvas, with additional soldiers ready to fight in box formations. The uniforms are reminiscent of soldiers of the East India Company, while Bhima, seen charging with a club, adorns full-body armor.

In Madan Bhasma, an enraged Shiva has broken through Kama’s illusion and proceeds to incinerate him by opening his third-eye for the first time. Kama’s partner Rati shrieks in horror while the gods, invoked by Kama in desperation, peek from the clouds in shock. Once his anger subsides, Parvati persuades Shiva to restore Kama’s life. He is given a formless existence, the only such instance in the Hindu pantheon, prophesied to be born again in a physical body as Krishna’s child. The tale cements a connection between mainstream theism and Vaishnavism. Additionally, the apocalyptic fire raging out of Shiva’s eye was contained in a horse by Brahma, prophesied to be let loose at the end of time.

In the painting we see Krishna and Balarama amidst gopalas and gopis, with innumerable animals. The painting showcases a struggle these unknown oil painters faced in emulating perspective whilst maintaining traditional aesthetics – Krishna and Balarama dwarf all the characters, whereas the foreground boats seem miniscule in comparison. Despite a superficial attempt to emulate the world of Vrindavan realistically, the painting maintains a lyrical quality. The picture space is broken down in such a way that most characters (both human and animal) face the two brothers placed at the centre. Similarly, a visual balance is created by pairing the large Kadamba tress above the brothers with two smaller trees at each end of the canvas, as well as by the slight inward slope of the horizon towards the centre.

Printed from a woodblock prepared by Nritya Lal Datta, an engraver who had his shop at Jorabagan, the hand-tinted image is of Dakshinakali from the Kalighat temple. Red pigment is smeared over the deity's eyes, tongue and palms, as well as used to define the blood on her sickle and dripping from the decapitated heads. Black printing ink served as the perfect colour to reproduce the deity's skin, which was differentiated from the black of her hair by elaborate earrings. The woodblock was delicately carved by Datta, who showed considerable skill in making successive layers using textures.

This chromolithograph shows the Devi distributing ambrosia to deities and their vahanas, kings, sages and asuras alike. The primary gods – Vishnu with his wife, Lakshmi, Shiva with Parvati, and Brahma – sit above everyone else, whereas sages, the lesser deities, demons and kings are placed below. The vahanas – Shiva's bull Nandi, Vishnu's elephant Gajendra and Brahma's seven-headed horse Uchchaihshravas - rest at the bottom. Much like the European imagery of 'The Last Supper', all the characters face the viewer.

Engraved by Madav Chandra Das – his name is found along the tree on the left side – this woodcut print is based on the Mahisasurmardini iconography. Mahisa, the asura escaping the dead buffalo, is shown with a yellow horned head (similar to the Christian anti-god Satan) and a red torso. He is being attacked by Durga, mounted on her lion, who wields four weapons in as many hands. The wilderness is stylistically presented through teardrop-shaped grass, a design motif commonly used in textile printing. Two snakes and a mongoose, natural enemies, are found within this foliage. Colour has been used in this print at random, and only to break the visual monotony of the black stamped image.

Printed from a woodblock prepared by Nritya Lal Datta, an engraver who had his shop at Jorabagan, the hand-tinted image is of Dakshinakali from the Kalighat temple. Red pigment is smeared over the deity's eyes, tongue and palms, as well as used to define the blood on her sickle and dripping from the decapitated heads. Black printing ink served as the perfect colour to reproduce the deity's skin, which was differentiated from the black of her hair by elaborate earrings. The woodblock was delicately carved by Datta, who showed considerable skill in making successive layers using textures.

This chromolithograph shows the Devi distributing ambrosia to deities and their vahanas, kings, sages and asuras alike. The primary gods – Vishnu with his wife, Lakshmi, Shiva with Parvati, and Brahma – sit above everyone else, whereas sages, the lesser deities, demons and kings are placed below. The vahanas – Shiva's bull Nandi, Vishnu's elephant Gajendra and Brahma's seven-headed horse Uchchaihshravas - rest at the bottom. Much like the European imagery of 'The Last Supper', all the characters face the viewer.

Engraved by Madav Chandra Das – his name is found along the tree on the left side – this woodcut print is based on the Mahisasurmardini iconography. Mahisa, the asura escaping the dead buffalo, is shown with a yellow horned head (similar to the Christian anti-god Satan) and a red torso. He is being attacked by Durga, mounted on her lion, who wields four weapons in as many hands. The wilderness is stylistically presented through teardrop-shaped grass, a design motif commonly used in textile printing. Two snakes and a mongoose, natural enemies, are found within this foliage. Colour has been used in this print at random, and only to break the visual monotony of the black stamped image.

Printed from a woodblock prepared by Nritya Lal Datta, an engraver who had his shop at Jorabagan, the hand-tinted image is of Dakshinakali from the Kalighat temple. Red pigment is smeared over the deity's eyes, tongue and palms, as well as used to define the blood on her sickle and dripping from the decapitated heads. Black printing ink served as the perfect colour to reproduce the deity's skin, which was differentiated from the black of her hair by elaborate earrings. The woodblock was delicately carved by Datta, who showed considerable skill in making successive layers using textures.

This chromolithograph shows the Devi distributing ambrosia to deities and their vahanas, kings, sages and asuras alike. The primary gods – Vishnu with his wife, Lakshmi, Shiva with Parvati, and Brahma – sit above everyone else, whereas sages, the lesser deities, demons and kings are placed below. The vahanas – Shiva's bull Nandi, Vishnu's elephant Gajendra and Brahma's seven-headed horse Uchchaihshravas - rest at the bottom. Much like the European imagery of 'The Last Supper', all the characters face the viewer.

Engraved by Madav Chandra Das – his name is found along the tree on the left side – this woodcut print is based on the Mahisasurmardini iconography. Mahisa, the asura escaping the dead buffalo, is shown with a yellow horned head (similar to the Christian anti-god Satan) and a red torso. He is being attacked by Durga, mounted on her lion, who wields four weapons in as many hands. The wilderness is stylistically presented through teardrop-shaped grass, a design motif commonly used in textile printing. Two snakes and a mongoose, natural enemies, are found within this foliage. Colour has been used in this print at random, and only to break the visual monotony of the black stamped image.

Annada Prasad Bagchi was a master oil painter and portraitist in nineteenth-century Calcutta who co-founded the Calcutta Art Studio in 1878. This print shows the end of the Durga Puja festivities with Durga leaving her maternal home after a brief stay, about to return to Kailash. While the women of the family console the goddess, Shiva waits for her with baby Ganesha in his arms. This print humanises the deity and the events that occur as part of the Bijoya Sammelan on Doshomi before the Durga idol is immersed in the Hooghly river.

Bamapada Banerjee trained in oil painting at Calcutta's art college and with a German artist named Karl J. Becker. Working as a portraitist, he travelled the Indian subcontinent widely, but his fame grew in equal parts for his oleographs of Hindu gods and myths. This print shows King Yayati – an ancestor to the Yadavas and Pandavas – rescuing Devayani, who was thrown into a dry well by her friend Sharmistha after a disagreement.

Annada Prasad Bagchi was a master oil painter and portraitist in nineteenth-century Calcutta who co-founded the Calcutta Art Studio in 1878. This print shows the end of the Durga Puja festivities with Durga leaving her maternal home after a brief stay, about to return to Kailash. While the women of the family console the goddess, Shiva waits for her with baby Ganesha in his arms. This print humanises the deity and the events that occur as part of the Bijoya Sammelan on Doshomi before the Durga idol is immersed in the Hooghly river.

Bamapada Banerjee trained in oil painting at Calcutta's art college and with a German artist named Karl J. Becker. Working as a portraitist, he travelled the Indian subcontinent widely, but his fame grew in equal parts for his oleographs of Hindu gods and myths. This print shows King Yayati – an ancestor to the Yadavas and Pandavas – rescuing Devayani, who was thrown into a dry well by her friend Sharmistha after a disagreement.

Reverse-glass art was originally introduced to the Indian subcontinent in the eighteenth century by Chinese or Parsi traders along the western coast, but their popularity spread in the next one hundred years. This selection of glass paintings was plausibly made in Canton (present-day Guangzhou) and brought to India as peddling merchandise in the nineteenth century. The works could also have been produced by Chinese artists residing in India.

It may be argued that Indian artists could have learnt the technique of reverse-glass painting from Chinese counterparts. But since the images contain flawed iconography— it was less likely for Indian artists to have introduced such errors—this argument is nullified. The artists responsible for these images remain unknown, but their presence shows a unique confluence between two vastly different cultures.

When choosing pictures that would sell in the markets of Calcutta, the pat watercolour paintings were used as template, perhaps for their relatively uncomplicated iconography. All paintings comprise a similar palette, primarily of red and blue pigments, with a generic mountain added to the backdrop.

Reverse-glass art was originally introduced to the Indian subcontinent in the eighteenth century by Chinese or Parsi traders along the western coast, but their popularity spread in the next one hundred years. This selection of glass paintings was plausibly made in Canton (present-day Guangzhou) and brought to India as peddling merchandise in the nineteenth century. The works could also have been produced by Chinese artists residing in India.

It may be argued that Indian artists could have learnt the technique of reverse-glass painting from Chinese counterparts. But since the images contain flawed iconography— it was less likely for Indian artists to have introduced such errors—this argument is nullified. The artists responsible for these images remain unknown, but their presence shows a unique confluence between two vastly different cultures.

When choosing pictures that would sell in the markets of Calcutta, the pat watercolour paintings were used as template, perhaps for their relatively uncomplicated iconography. All paintings comprise a similar palette, primarily of red and blue pigments, with a generic mountain added to the backdrop.

Reverse-glass art was originally introduced to the Indian subcontinent in the eighteenth century by Chinese or Parsi traders along the western coast, but their popularity spread in the next one hundred years. This selection of glass paintings was plausibly made in Canton (present-day Guangzhou) and brought to India as peddling merchandise in the nineteenth century. The works could also have been produced by Chinese artists residing in India.

It may be argued that Indian artists could have learnt the technique of reverse-glass painting from Chinese counterparts. But since the images contain flawed iconography— it was less likely for Indian artists to have introduced such errors—this argument is nullified. The artists responsible for these images remain unknown, but their presence shows a unique confluence between two vastly different cultures.

When choosing pictures that would sell in the markets of Calcutta, the pat watercolour paintings were used as template, perhaps for their relatively uncomplicated iconography. All paintings comprise a similar palette, primarily of red and blue pigments, with a generic mountain added to the backdrop.