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In a career spanning four decades, Amitava’s location as an artist has determined the authority that he brings to his practice. As an artist studying and working in the 1960s, Amitava Das experienced a decade of fragmented locii. The ’60s, the period of his education at the College of Art, was the decade of wars, fiscal difficulty and an uncertain polity in the wake of the death of Jawaharlal Nehru. Further, as a second generation pravasi (non-residing Indian) Bengali, the roiling political violence of West Bengal’s Naxal movement came to him through the filter of poetry, film and art—much as he would have received the existential writing of Camus, Genet and Rilke. Through the 1960s and ’70s, small groups of artists and filmmakers in different pockets in India had a heightened response: the state of the nation found an uncanny echo in the language of modernism, of the artist’s isolation and purity even within a state of uncertainty.

England shaped Altaf’s political consciousness as well as his persona. He engaged in the anti-apartheid demonstration at Trafalgar Square held against the imprisonment of Nelson Mandela; a peaceful protest at the American Embassy opposing the bombing in North Vietnam; the Aldermaston March against the nuclear bomb; the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament; he became a member of the Youth Wing of the Communist Party of Great Britain (CPGB) and the Young Communist League (YCL). Any examination of the theoretical aspect of Altaf’s work must start with the knowledge that the work in question exemplified an element of ‘existentialist’ thought. 

Few artists claim as rich and intriguing a legacy as M. V. Dhurandhar in the landscape of late 19th and early 20th century Indian art. His practice leaves us with challenging questions about encounters and exchanges with India's colonial past and the influence of Europeans in shaping the evolution of painting. This exhibition revisits Dhurandhar's vast oeuvre through DAG's extensive collection of his paintings, archival material and ephemera, in an attempt to understand the socio-cultural context of his emergence, and to re-examine his influence on institutional and commercial art in the country.

What wonder it must have been for the people in England to ‘see’ India for the first time, the exotica that they had only heard of until then! The artists who made this possible through their paintings and aquatints were the uncle-nephew duo of Thomas Daniell and William Daniell, whose magnum opus, Oriental Scenery, was the subject of this landmark exhibition at Drishyakala, a joint collaboration between DAG and the Archaeological Survey of India.

Diana Campbell is the Artistic Director of the Samdani Art Foundation, now in its 10th year, and chief curator of the prestigious Dhaka Art Summit, whose sixth edition starts on February 3, 2023. She spoke with the DAG Journal’s editorial team to discuss her own curatorial process and how she makes room for experimentation, and unpacks the intriguing thematic of this new edition: ‘flood’, or bonna.

An experiential learning and apprenticeship programme for high school students in collaboration with arts education organisations, offering them a first-hand experience of working in a museum, learning about the art and history, and translating their learnings to develop museum experiences for their peers.

This exhibition looks at the diverse range, moods and styles that primitivism has taken in India, some artists practicing entirely in that style, while others experimenting with it in part, or sporadically. One can count simplicity and a move away from sophistication as key components, as also an inclination or at least a nod towards the folk. The exhibition does not attempt to be a comprehensive survey of India’s primitivists—there are others who would bear inclusion—but is an attempt to understand a body of work and how, given its Western countenance, it can be understood in the Indian context. More than anything else, it offers a clearer view than in the past of what primitivism might mean in the context of modern Indian art. Amrita Sher-Gil F. N. Souza George Keyt Himmat Shah J. Sultan Ali Jamini Roy Jogen Chowdhury K. G. Subramanyan K. S. Kulkarni M. F. Husain Madhvi Parekh Mohan Samant Rabin Mondal Rabindranath Tagore Ramkinkar Baij Sunayani Devi

The idea of primitivism centres on the wish to identify with, or respond to, elements of a society that are deemed ‘primitive’. In artistic terms, it is about rejecting realism, simplifying technique and reducing the formal means of expression to a ‘primitive’ state. The term itself is borrowed from discussions of Western art, where high-profile examples include the images of Tahiti and its people made in the 1890s by Paul Gauguin, and responses to African sculpture by Pablo Picasso in 1906-09. The second thread of primitivism—the reduction of formal means—is best exemplified by the ‘cut-outs’ made by Henri Matisse in the 1940s.

That Anupam Sud is one of the most prominent printmakers in the country is a given, even though it would be unfair to limit so versatile an artist to only being a printmaker. Indeed, her body of work includes paintings, drawings, sculpture, bookmaking—and as you will see through the pages of the book accompanying the exhibition, a record-keeper observing the passage of time with self-portraits that she has undertaken to make periodically. A role-model for generations of artists and printmakers through her work and for her influence as a teacher at the prestigious College of Art, New Delhi, Anupam Sud’s name evokes recognition around the world where she has admirers, collectors of her work, and students who have trained under her.

Ramkinkar Baij is rightfully described as India’s first modernist sculptor for his pathbreaking use of cement and laterite as material, his choice of subjects and scale in public art projects, and his unconventional development of ideas.

The Poet is an abstract portrait of Rabindranath Tagore, imagined through negative spaces, concaves and convexes forming the eyes in a hollowed head, a masterclass in Baij’s cubist vocabulary. The portrait shared almost no physical attributes with the subject, instead focusing on distorting Tagore’s visage to give us insights into the state of his mind.