Search results for: 'Flower and Fire The Life and Art'

The Devi or the female power in Hindu mythology appears in various avatars in our everyday lives—as idols during the puja, on covers of magazines, product labels, calendars and posters. The modern history of visualising the Devi goes back to naturalistic depictions in oil paintings by the Early Bengal artists, which were surpassed in popularity and fame by Raja Ravi Varma and his studio. His representation, however, was regarded as too human-like by artists of the Bengal School in the early twentieth century, who created idealised forms based on a synthesis of classical visual traditions. In the twentieth century, we find artists responding to distinctive traits of the goddess to portray specific aspects of her power, or to convey the artist's own relationship with divinity. Few artists who have turned to Hindu myths have been able to escape the temptation to interpret the female power in their own way, and the diversity in style, medium, and mood is a testament to that.

When we launched the Silver Series in May 2020 as our attempt to stay engaged with art-lovers no longer able to visit our galleries, we were unsure of the response. But the feedback we received was heartening, and it was backed by commensurate sales to prove that the art-loving fraternity supported the initiative and gave it a resounding thumbs-up. J. Sultan Ali Altaf Amit Ambalal Amitava Anonymous (Early Bengal) Anonymous (Kalighat Pat) Anonymous (Portraiture) K. H. Ara Prabhakar Barwe Bikash Bhattacharjee Nikhil Biswas Nandalal Bose Eric Bowen Shobha Broota Sakti Burman Avinash Chandra Jogen Chowdhury Sunil Das Prodosh Das Gupta Shanti Dave Rajendra Dhawan M. V. Dhurandhar K. Laxma Goud Satish Gujral Zarina Hashmi K. K. Hebbar M. F. Husain George Keyt Krishen Khanna K. S. Kulkarni Ram Kumar Rabin Mondal S. Nandagopal Laxman Pai Gogi Saroj Pal Madhvi Parekh Jeram Patel Ganesh Pyne Sohan Qadri A. A. Raiba S. H. Raza P. T. Reddy Rekha Rodwittiya Jamini Roy G. R. Santosh Paritosh Sen F. N. Souza Anupam Sud Ramgopal Vijaivargiya

The wash technique has come to be associated in India with the art of the Bengal School, but the story of its origins in India takes us back to an era of rich cultural exchanges. In the early twentieth century artists like Abanindranath Tagore were trying to imagine a pan-Asian cultural identity, and they turned for inspiration to traditions from across Persia to Japan. Rabindranath Tagore's friendship with Okakura Kakuzō occasioned the arrival of several Japanese artists in Kolkata, such as Yokoyama Taikan, Hishida Shunsō and Katsuta Shōkin. While the latter found inspiration in the Hindu epics, artists in Bengal adapted techniques that were used by the Japanese, such as the wash technique or the subtle use of ink and brush. Since then, the wash technique has been interpreted widely by individual artists, offering an ethereal quality of light to their works, or, in some cases, like for Gaganendranath Tagore and Prosanto Roy, new possibilities of painting in various shades of darkness.

Shanti Dave’s abstracts resemble—at first—the familiar and the unknown. There are writings, figures, deities, forms and shapes that resonate with what we seem to know. If the language is indecipherable, perhaps it belongs to some ancient texts lost to history. Is this his ode to a civilisation that existed in the past, or a prophesy of one to come? Is it a world hidden underwater? Or perhaps one alien to us because it comes from some other planet? Are these tombstones, or markers, of some mythological or historical realm?

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.

How did the multiple trajectories of visual arts develop in the subcontinent? Where did they originate and how did their paths converge? Drishyakala offers a sweeping journey into the heterogenous histories of visual arts in India, from the first European travelling artists who drew landscapes to popular prints of the earliest woodcuts and lithographs evolving into the thriving advertising visuals of the 20th century. The exhibition is broadly divided into four categories, each exploring an unique area of development—the art of portraiture through photography and painting, oriental sceneries drawn by European travelling artists, popular prints from the late eighteenth century to post-independence and artworks of the nine National Treasure Artists. Together, these sections give brief glimpses into the dizzying variety of forms, styles and languages of South Asian art.

In celebration of birds and the long relationship art has shared with the winged creatures, this exhibition brings together four folios to present portraits of Indian birds made in the early nineteenth century. While representations of birds date back to the Ajanta murals, naturalistic imagery reached its peak in Mughal art under Emperor Jahangir. In the late 18th century two connected developments emerged in Lucknow and Calcutta. While General Claude Martin provided imported European paper to the artists in Lucknow to prepare botanical studies and other natural history works, in Calcutta Mary, Lady Impey (wife of Chief Justice of the Supreme Court in Bengal, Elijah Impey) had a menagerie where she employed artists to portray variety of animals and birds. Dr. William Roxburgh, superintendent of Calcutta Botanical Garden from 1793, also added to the discourse of natural history by appointing local artists to make botanical studies of the specimens in his charge. The efforts of Martin, Impey, Roxburgh and their artists gave rise to a large body of Company Paintings dedicated to natural history.

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.

Chittaprosad couldn’t have created a more germane work in honour of the people who successfully fought their oppressors to create an independent nation. A close examination of his masterpiece, Bangladesh War, reveals the artist’s use of symbols of hope against persecution and domination, art collector and philanthropist Nadia Samdani tells us.

Artists may be anonymous but their times are not. Art historian and curator Dr. Tapati Guha-Thakurta takes us through the Early Bengal oil paintings from the 19th and early 20th century on display at DAG, New Delhi.