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Join Tapati Guha-Thakurta for a museum visit and presentation as we explore the beginnings of the colonial traditions of art and design in India through the twin histories of the Indian Museum and the Government College of Art and Craft.

A storytelling festival for ages 12 and above by changemakers, activists and artists, exploring the idea of freedom from various walks of life.

We might think of landscape as the most obvious and natural subject for painting. What could be simpler than an artistic response to the world of nature? And yet, civilisations have not always produced landscape paintings. Landscape as an independent genre—with the primary focus not on action but on scenery—was first championed by the Chinese in the ninth century. It was introduced into English art only in the eighteenth century. Elements of nature have appeared in Indian art since the murals of Ajanta, but in supporting roles, in images that are primarily sacred or courtly. Pure landscape painting arose in India only in the nineteenth century, in response to colonial practice. A A ALMELKAR AVINASH CHANDRA BABURAO SADWELKAR BHUNATH MUKERJEE BIJAN CHOUDHARY BIRESWAR SEN CHITTAPROSAD DEVRAJ DAKOJI DEVYANI KRISHNA DHARAMANARAYAN DASGUPTA GANESH HALOI GOBARDHAN ASH HAREN DAS K. K. HEBBAR KANWAL KRISHNA KISORY ROY M. K. PARANDEKAR M. V. DHURANDHAR MANISHI DEY MUKUL DEY New Found Lands NIKHIL BISWAS PESTONJI E BOMANJI PRAN KISHAN PAUL RABIN MONDAL RAMENDRANATH CHAKRAVORTY RAMKINKAR BAIJ SAKTI BURMAN SUNIL DAS THOMAS DANIELL WILLIAM HODGES WILLIAM PARKER

William Hodges (1744-97) was a pioneer in more ways than one. He was the first British landscape painter to visit India, and to portray scenery across the whole breadth of the Gangetic plain. As a writer, he gave the first detailed descriptions of numerous historic Indian buildings, and he theorised about the origins and evolution of Indian architectural design. His art illustrates his exploration into terrain which—in its breadth and scope—was at the time almost as unfamiliar to Indian as to Western eyes.

The city was consolidated over the course of the eighteenth century, and its access to global trade routes helped it grow over the following centuries as well, leading some to describe it as the 'door of the East with its Face to the West'. How did European artists view this growing city?

DAG invited leading historians of Delhi, Swapna Liddle and Rana Safvi, to explore our archives collection. The items they found there include numerous photographs of the three durbars, taken by prominent photographers of the day. They also include many other objects relating to the durbars, from portraits and medals, to maps and official guidebooks, and to tickets and programmes. Historians in the past have analysed the ideology of the Delhi durbars, but never before has such a collection of the material culture of these events been brought together for display.

Artists have often formulated their theories and observations to analyse and become aware of the cognitive modes of art making, and to associate with broader contemporaneous art movements. These manifestos become a window into an artist’s process. Prabhakar Barwe’s seminal treatise, <i>Kora Canvas</I> (The Blank Canvas, 1989), exemplifies his deep understanding of the fundamental elements of art and keen observations of nature and his surroundings.

Chittaprosad Bhattacharya (1913-1978) was a versatile artist and a lifelong adherent of the socialistic worldview. In 1943, he traveled across the famine-stricken villages of Bengal and produced realistic sketches of human suffering that were regularly published in the pages of the Communist Party journal 'People’s war'. These sketches were later compiled and published as a booklet under the title 'Hungry Bengal'. Fascinated by his artistic skills, the General Secretary of Communist Party of India, Puran Chand Joshi took Chittaprosad to the Party’s headquarters in Bombay (now Mumbai). 

Jamini Roy’s was an art of quiet resistance that assimilated so seamlessly into the folk and craft traditions of Bengal that it did not cause any discernible ripples among the prevalent artistic mood. All around him, art was being nurtured, questioned, uprooted—it was, after all, a period when nationalist feelings ran high and a search for an indigenous lexicon was paramount—but Jaminida’s ability to look to tradition for a modern approach, though revolutionary, was instinctively natural and organic. It was art that everyone understood and wanted to take home. No wonder Jamini babu became a household name in his native Calcutta and went on to be honoured as one of the pre-eminent National Treasure artists of the country whose art has the greatest acceptance of any known Indian modernist.