DAG Museum’s annual festival ‘The City as a Museum’ attempts to explore the various archives, communities and artistic traditions that cohere around the life of a city. Put together, they tell different stories about the city across time and space, from the point of view of neighbourhoods, collections and institutions, but not just limited to those either.
In order to learn more about this unique programme that seeks to explore heritage outside the walls of a traditional gallery or museum, read on!
The House of the Tagores of Pathuriaghata
We started our journey by visiting the Prasad Tagore Palace at Pathuriaghata, established by Jatindramohan Tagore in the nineteenth century, and learned about a rich tradition of performances and plays by musicians and artists from across the colonial world that took place in that majestic house.
Gaganendranath Tagore
Water colour and ink on paper
The ways in which Gaganendranath Tagore painted his dramatic scenes makes us aware of how frequently the family used their interior spaces as a stage for spectacles, drama and musical performances. These were driven towards an effort to create a new cultural identity that was both cosmopolitan as well as rooted in national sentiment.
Pramantha M. Tagore, in conversation with Sujaan Mukherjee
Pramantha Mohun Tagore, a descendent of the family, played the sarod and told us stories about their collections, the various exchanges that took place in the house, involving musicians, writers and political personalities ranging from Michael Madhusudan Dutt to General Ulysses S. Grant and, ultimately, their continuing significance as a living museum in the city.
The House of the Tagores of Pathuriaghata
We started our journey by visiting the Prasad Tagore Palace at Pathuriaghata, established by Jatindramohan Tagore in the nineteenth century, and learned about a rich tradition of performances and plays by musicians and artists from across the colonial world that took place in that majestic house.
Gaganendranath Tagore
Water colour and ink on paper
The ways in which Gaganendranath Tagore painted his dramatic scenes makes us aware of how frequently the family used their interior spaces as a stage for spectacles, drama and musical performances. These were driven towards an effort to create a new cultural identity that was both cosmopolitan as well as rooted in national sentiment.
Pramantha M. Tagore, in conversation with Sujaan Mukherjee
Pramantha Mohun Tagore, a descendent of the family, played the sarod and told us stories about their collections, the various exchanges that took place in the house, involving musicians, writers and political personalities ranging from Michael Madhusudan Dutt to General Ulysses S. Grant and, ultimately, their continuing significance as a living museum in the city.
The House of the Tagores of Pathuriaghata
We started our journey by visiting the Prasad Tagore Palace at Pathuriaghata, established by Jatindramohan Tagore in the nineteenth century, and learned about a rich tradition of performances and plays by musicians and artists from across the colonial world that took place in that majestic house.
Gaganendranath Tagore
Water colour and ink on paper
The ways in which Gaganendranath Tagore painted his dramatic scenes makes us aware of how frequently the family used their interior spaces as a stage for spectacles, drama and musical performances. These were driven towards an effort to create a new cultural identity that was both cosmopolitan as well as rooted in national sentiment.
Pramantha M. Tagore, in conversation with Sujaan Mukherjee
Pramantha Mohun Tagore, a descendent of the family, played the sarod and told us stories about their collections, the various exchanges that took place in the house, involving musicians, writers and political personalities ranging from Michael Madhusudan Dutt to General Ulysses S. Grant and, ultimately, their continuing significance as a living museum in the city.
The clock-tower at the Hooghly Imambara
The building reflects a wide variety of influences, from the European clock-tower and bells, architectural features borrowed from Ottoman Turkey, to ornate motifs and texts in Arabic and Persian (as well as a legal deed in English!) presenting a complex portrait of the Shi’a Muslim community’s encounter with colonial modernity in Bengal, told entirely through built space.
Workshop on fresco-making
Many of the frescoes are damaged but they are now being carefully restored by a group of artists led by Sumantra Mukherjee. As we traced these motifs on plaster, using the buon fresco technique, we came closer to imitating the graceful movements perfected by the anonymous painters and artisans who would have been employed to execute these designs on the walls of the Imambara.
At the Imambara
We are often spurred by questions of absence as much as presence, whether of artists or entire traditions of art: and the Hooghly Imambara proved to be one such space which adds another fascinating detail to our stories of art, faith and patronage in (poly)colonial Bengal.
The clock-tower at the Hooghly Imambara
The building reflects a wide variety of influences, from the European clock-tower and bells, architectural features borrowed from Ottoman Turkey, to ornate motifs and texts in Arabic and Persian (as well as a legal deed in English!) presenting a complex portrait of the Shi’a Muslim community’s encounter with colonial modernity in Bengal, told entirely through built space.
Workshop on fresco-making
Many of the frescoes are damaged but they are now being carefully restored by a group of artists led by Sumantra Mukherjee. As we traced these motifs on plaster, using the buon fresco technique, we came closer to imitating the graceful movements perfected by the anonymous painters and artisans who would have been employed to execute these designs on the walls of the Imambara.
At the Imambara
We are often spurred by questions of absence as much as presence, whether of artists or entire traditions of art: and the Hooghly Imambara proved to be one such space which adds another fascinating detail to our stories of art, faith and patronage in (poly)colonial Bengal.
The clock-tower at the Hooghly Imambara
The building reflects a wide variety of influences, from the European clock-tower and bells, architectural features borrowed from Ottoman Turkey, to ornate motifs and texts in Arabic and Persian (as well as a legal deed in English!) presenting a complex portrait of the Shi’a Muslim community’s encounter with colonial modernity in Bengal, told entirely through built space.
Workshop on fresco-making
Many of the frescoes are damaged but they are now being carefully restored by a group of artists led by Sumantra Mukherjee. As we traced these motifs on plaster, using the buon fresco technique, we came closer to imitating the graceful movements perfected by the anonymous painters and artisans who would have been employed to execute these designs on the walls of the Imambara.
At the Imambara
We are often spurred by questions of absence as much as presence, whether of artists or entire traditions of art: and the Hooghly Imambara proved to be one such space which adds another fascinating detail to our stories of art, faith and patronage in (poly)colonial Bengal.
At the Victoria Memorial Hall
Their archive of history paintings were opened up for us and we conducted two workshops on the use of these artworks as sources for learning and teaching history in and outside the classroom.
The category of ‘history paintings’ as a high artistic form in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries was discussed, revealing its emphasis on dramatizing military and political events of the day—while frequently borrowing from the languages of mythology to suggest how these events should be perceived by the audience.
Looking before observing
Peeling back the layers of singular authority that these paintings wield on their surfaces, we discovered a world of affect, humour and tragedy that becomes visible only after our third or fourth look at these artworks.
Watching closely
Close watching/reading reveals the cracks in history, allowing us to peek into events and sentiments that often fall between them.
At the Victoria Memorial Hall
Their archive of history paintings were opened up for us and we conducted two workshops on the use of these artworks as sources for learning and teaching history in and outside the classroom.
The category of ‘history paintings’ as a high artistic form in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries was discussed, revealing its emphasis on dramatizing military and political events of the day—while frequently borrowing from the languages of mythology to suggest how these events should be perceived by the audience.
Looking before observing
Peeling back the layers of singular authority that these paintings wield on their surfaces, we discovered a world of affect, humour and tragedy that becomes visible only after our third or fourth look at these artworks.
Watching closely
Close watching/reading reveals the cracks in history, allowing us to peek into events and sentiments that often fall between them.
At the Victoria Memorial Hall
Their archive of history paintings were opened up for us and we conducted two workshops on the use of these artworks as sources for learning and teaching history in and outside the classroom.
The category of ‘history paintings’ as a high artistic form in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries was discussed, revealing its emphasis on dramatizing military and political events of the day—while frequently borrowing from the languages of mythology to suggest how these events should be perceived by the audience.
Looking before observing
Peeling back the layers of singular authority that these paintings wield on their surfaces, we discovered a world of affect, humour and tragedy that becomes visible only after our third or fourth look at these artworks.
Watching closely
Close watching/reading reveals the cracks in history, allowing us to peek into events and sentiments that often fall between them.
In Shanu Lahiri's studio
As we arrived at the late artist Shanu Lahiri’s house in the leafy neighbourhood of Lake Town we were confronted by her passionate attempts to create new communities (of both human and non-human constituents) around her. Lahiri’s work emerged from her early years of academic training at the Government College of Art, Kolkata.
Works by Lahiri and Nirode Mazumdar at the former's home
Her story was often overshadowed by the work of her male colleagues and siblings, such as Nirode Mazumdar and Kamal Kumar Majumdar. Using her academic background, she innovated new ways of employing lines, integrating natural environments, animals, cooking recipes and music into art, while curating influential exhibitions and executing public art projects across the city.
Women in the art school
The trajectory of her life and career gave us fresh perspectives into our own collection as well.
Looking at the work of her teachers (all of them male), like Ramendranath Chakravorty, it became clear how novel the sight of women students were at the art schools of India.
Ramendranath Chakravorty
Untitled
Etching on paper
Lahiri belonged to the early batches of female students at the Government Art School, who were beginning to be admitted after the intervention of another teacher and Principal, Mukul Dey. What appears to us as an everyday sight of a student at work was tinged with the quality of novelty in the 1940s, allowing us to read a completely different register into this work.
In Shanu Lahiri's studio
As we arrived at the late artist Shanu Lahiri’s house in the leafy neighbourhood of Lake Town we were confronted by her passionate attempts to create new communities (of both human and non-human constituents) around her. Lahiri’s work emerged from her early years of academic training at the Government College of Art, Kolkata.
Works by Lahiri and Nirode Mazumdar at the former's home
Her story was often overshadowed by the work of her male colleagues and siblings, such as Nirode Mazumdar and Kamal Kumar Majumdar. Using her academic background, she innovated new ways of employing lines, integrating natural environments, animals, cooking recipes and music into art, while curating influential exhibitions and executing public art projects across the city.
Women in the art school
The trajectory of her life and career gave us fresh perspectives into our own collection as well.
Looking at the work of her teachers (all of them male), like Ramendranath Chakravorty, it became clear how novel the sight of women students were at the art schools of India.
Ramendranath Chakravorty
Untitled
Etching on paper
Lahiri belonged to the early batches of female students at the Government Art School, who were beginning to be admitted after the intervention of another teacher and Principal, Mukul Dey. What appears to us as an everyday sight of a student at work was tinged with the quality of novelty in the 1940s, allowing us to read a completely different register into this work.
In Shanu Lahiri's studio
As we arrived at the late artist Shanu Lahiri’s house in the leafy neighbourhood of Lake Town we were confronted by her passionate attempts to create new communities (of both human and non-human constituents) around her. Lahiri’s work emerged from her early years of academic training at the Government College of Art, Kolkata.
Works by Lahiri and Nirode Mazumdar at the former's home
Her story was often overshadowed by the work of her male colleagues and siblings, such as Nirode Mazumdar and Kamal Kumar Majumdar. Using her academic background, she innovated new ways of employing lines, integrating natural environments, animals, cooking recipes and music into art, while curating influential exhibitions and executing public art projects across the city.
Women in the art school
The trajectory of her life and career gave us fresh perspectives into our own collection as well.
Looking at the work of her teachers (all of them male), like Ramendranath Chakravorty, it became clear how novel the sight of women students were at the art schools of India.
Ramendranath Chakravorty
Untitled
Etching on paper
Lahiri belonged to the early batches of female students at the Government Art School, who were beginning to be admitted after the intervention of another teacher and Principal, Mukul Dey. What appears to us as an everyday sight of a student at work was tinged with the quality of novelty in the 1940s, allowing us to read a completely different register into this work.
In Shanu Lahiri's studio
As we arrived at the late artist Shanu Lahiri’s house in the leafy neighbourhood of Lake Town we were confronted by her passionate attempts to create new communities (of both human and non-human constituents) around her. Lahiri’s work emerged from her early years of academic training at the Government College of Art, Kolkata.
Works by Lahiri and Nirode Mazumdar at the former's home
Her story was often overshadowed by the work of her male colleagues and siblings, such as Nirode Mazumdar and Kamal Kumar Majumdar. Using her academic background, she innovated new ways of employing lines, integrating natural environments, animals, cooking recipes and music into art, while curating influential exhibitions and executing public art projects across the city.
Women in the art school
The trajectory of her life and career gave us fresh perspectives into our own collection as well.
Looking at the work of her teachers (all of them male), like Ramendranath Chakravorty, it became clear how novel the sight of women students were at the art schools of India.
Ramendranath Chakravorty
Untitled
Etching on paper
Lahiri belonged to the early batches of female students at the Government Art School, who were beginning to be admitted after the intervention of another teacher and Principal, Mukul Dey. What appears to us as an everyday sight of a student at work was tinged with the quality of novelty in the 1940s, allowing us to read a completely different register into this work.
At the Acharya Bhavan
Established in 1917, the Bose Institute is full of artworks that were either collected by Bose himself or gifted to him by friends and artists, including Abanindranath Tagore, Nicholas Roerich and Rabindranath Tagore.
The living room of the Acharya Bhavan also contained murals and frescoes inspired by those at Ajanta and the Bagh caves, designed by Nandalal Bose (and executed by his student, Surendranath Kar), a reproduction of Abanindranath’s painting of Bharat Mata—where she is shown to carry symbols of faith and learning—paintings of Sir and Lady Bose, and a dramatic rendering of the scientist at work by Gaganendranath Tagore; while outside one could see a Japanese rock-garden that allowed Bose to recreate the familiar form of a landscape from his childhood full of mountains, waterbodies and plants.
The ceiling of the Bose Institute
The motifs of the mimosa pudica and the telegraph plant were visible on the many ornate ceilings and doors that were designed by Nandalal Bose. J. C. Bose was best-known for demonstrating these plants’ sensitivity to stimuli. The presence of several Buddhist sculptures and the nationalist architecture of the Bose Institute gave visitors a view into the personal—even emotional—world of a scientist like Bose, whose temperament was shaped by the stories and myths he heard growing up.
The Bose Institue
As the artworks in his collection seemed to suggest, Bose’s life presented a complex negotiation between the inner life of a colonized subject and a world historical figure, almost heroically attempting to mould the context of his own work. For someone who longed to push the boundaries of observable phenomena—which led him to create many of his own innovative instruments, relying on the crafts knowledge of artisans from rural Bengal—it became important over time to also find new ways of representing such views, or rendering plant noises audible, making his excursions into art a particularly human attempt at understanding and assimilating such new worlds.
At the Acharya Bhavan
Established in 1917, the Bose Institute is full of artworks that were either collected by Bose himself or gifted to him by friends and artists, including Abanindranath Tagore, Nicholas Roerich and Rabindranath Tagore.
The living room of the Acharya Bhavan also contained murals and frescoes inspired by those at Ajanta and the Bagh caves, designed by Nandalal Bose (and executed by his student, Surendranath Kar), a reproduction of Abanindranath’s painting of Bharat Mata—where she is shown to carry symbols of faith and learning—paintings of Sir and Lady Bose, and a dramatic rendering of the scientist at work by Gaganendranath Tagore; while outside one could see a Japanese rock-garden that allowed Bose to recreate the familiar form of a landscape from his childhood full of mountains, waterbodies and plants.
The ceiling of the Bose Institute
The motifs of the mimosa pudica and the telegraph plant were visible on the many ornate ceilings and doors that were designed by Nandalal Bose. J. C. Bose was best-known for demonstrating these plants’ sensitivity to stimuli. The presence of several Buddhist sculptures and the nationalist architecture of the Bose Institute gave visitors a view into the personal—even emotional—world of a scientist like Bose, whose temperament was shaped by the stories and myths he heard growing up.
The Bose Institue
As the artworks in his collection seemed to suggest, Bose’s life presented a complex negotiation between the inner life of a colonized subject and a world historical figure, almost heroically attempting to mould the context of his own work. For someone who longed to push the boundaries of observable phenomena—which led him to create many of his own innovative instruments, relying on the crafts knowledge of artisans from rural Bengal—it became important over time to also find new ways of representing such views, or rendering plant noises audible, making his excursions into art a particularly human attempt at understanding and assimilating such new worlds.
At the Acharya Bhavan
Established in 1917, the Bose Institute is full of artworks that were either collected by Bose himself or gifted to him by friends and artists, including Abanindranath Tagore, Nicholas Roerich and Rabindranath Tagore.
The living room of the Acharya Bhavan also contained murals and frescoes inspired by those at Ajanta and the Bagh caves, designed by Nandalal Bose (and executed by his student, Surendranath Kar), a reproduction of Abanindranath’s painting of Bharat Mata—where she is shown to carry symbols of faith and learning—paintings of Sir and Lady Bose, and a dramatic rendering of the scientist at work by Gaganendranath Tagore; while outside one could see a Japanese rock-garden that allowed Bose to recreate the familiar form of a landscape from his childhood full of mountains, waterbodies and plants.
The ceiling of the Bose Institute
The motifs of the mimosa pudica and the telegraph plant were visible on the many ornate ceilings and doors that were designed by Nandalal Bose. J. C. Bose was best-known for demonstrating these plants’ sensitivity to stimuli. The presence of several Buddhist sculptures and the nationalist architecture of the Bose Institute gave visitors a view into the personal—even emotional—world of a scientist like Bose, whose temperament was shaped by the stories and myths he heard growing up.
The Bose Institue
As the artworks in his collection seemed to suggest, Bose’s life presented a complex negotiation between the inner life of a colonized subject and a world historical figure, almost heroically attempting to mould the context of his own work. For someone who longed to push the boundaries of observable phenomena—which led him to create many of his own innovative instruments, relying on the crafts knowledge of artisans from rural Bengal—it became important over time to also find new ways of representing such views, or rendering plant noises audible, making his excursions into art a particularly human attempt at understanding and assimilating such new worlds.
At Chintamoni Kar's Studio in Narendrapur
The subject of traditional academic training was at the centre of this programme, since Chintamoni Kar was a Principal at the Government College of Art, Kolkata from the late-1950s. His works—ranging across sculpture, painting and drawing—presented a map of changing fashions and styles in the vocabularies of art-making across a wide swathe of time and geography, from London and Paris to India, from the 1930s to the early 2000s, reflecting the connections that were framed by our colonial and postcolonial formations of cosmopolitanism.
Kshitindranath Majumdar
Shri Chaitanya and
Basudev
Sarbothoum
Watercolour wash on paper
Suggesting there to be greater continuities between the colonial and postcolonial conditions instead of a total break, as evinced by other modernists, Kar’s early works displayed a strong trace of influence from the Bengal School, especially his own teacher—Kshitindranath Majumdar. Borrowing from the styles of influential sculptors like Henry Moore, Constantin Brancusi and Barbara Hepworth, Kar also sought to integrate his art-making with natural elements and continued to find new ways of reviving classical forms in Indian terracotta and metal sculpting—always in conversation with global trends.
The Bhaskar Bhavan and Amina Kar Gallery
What was even more revelatory was the sight of a whole gallery-worth of works left behind by the little-known artist, Amina Ahmed Kar. Her works reflected her own interest in South-east Asian art and architectural forms, the strong design elements visible in the work of De Stijl artists like César Domela, and her own experiences abroad as well as in domesticity. Some of her drawings suggested dark interior states that were arrived at through a mix of figurative realism and abstraction, often rendering the female face and body in states of distortion. Cubist planes and thick brushwork are often employed to heighten these states of anguish, even though the curation left most of her motivations or methods unaddressed. In spite of these frustrating gaps, it was a singular experience for visitors who had never seen her work before. Her oeuvre holds many clues for Indian modern art historians looking to bridge the gap between male and female presences in the evolving canons of Indian art.
At Chintamoni Kar's Studio in Narendrapur
The subject of traditional academic training was at the centre of this programme, since Chintamoni Kar was a Principal at the Government College of Art, Kolkata from the late-1950s. His works—ranging across sculpture, painting and drawing—presented a map of changing fashions and styles in the vocabularies of art-making across a wide swathe of time and geography, from London and Paris to India, from the 1930s to the early 2000s, reflecting the connections that were framed by our colonial and postcolonial formations of cosmopolitanism.
Kshitindranath Majumdar
Shri Chaitanya and
Basudev
Sarbothoum
Watercolour wash on paper
Suggesting there to be greater continuities between the colonial and postcolonial conditions instead of a total break, as evinced by other modernists, Kar’s early works displayed a strong trace of influence from the Bengal School, especially his own teacher—Kshitindranath Majumdar. Borrowing from the styles of influential sculptors like Henry Moore, Constantin Brancusi and Barbara Hepworth, Kar also sought to integrate his art-making with natural elements and continued to find new ways of reviving classical forms in Indian terracotta and metal sculpting—always in conversation with global trends.
The Bhaskar Bhavan and Amina Kar Gallery
What was even more revelatory was the sight of a whole gallery-worth of works left behind by the little-known artist, Amina Ahmed Kar. Her works reflected her own interest in South-east Asian art and architectural forms, the strong design elements visible in the work of De Stijl artists like César Domela, and her own experiences abroad as well as in domesticity. Some of her drawings suggested dark interior states that were arrived at through a mix of figurative realism and abstraction, often rendering the female face and body in states of distortion. Cubist planes and thick brushwork are often employed to heighten these states of anguish, even though the curation left most of her motivations or methods unaddressed. In spite of these frustrating gaps, it was a singular experience for visitors who had never seen her work before. Her oeuvre holds many clues for Indian modern art historians looking to bridge the gap between male and female presences in the evolving canons of Indian art.
At Chintamoni Kar's Studio in Narendrapur
The subject of traditional academic training was at the centre of this programme, since Chintamoni Kar was a Principal at the Government College of Art, Kolkata from the late-1950s. His works—ranging across sculpture, painting and drawing—presented a map of changing fashions and styles in the vocabularies of art-making across a wide swathe of time and geography, from London and Paris to India, from the 1930s to the early 2000s, reflecting the connections that were framed by our colonial and postcolonial formations of cosmopolitanism.
Kshitindranath Majumdar
Shri Chaitanya and
Basudev
Sarbothoum
Watercolour wash on paper
Suggesting there to be greater continuities between the colonial and postcolonial conditions instead of a total break, as evinced by other modernists, Kar’s early works displayed a strong trace of influence from the Bengal School, especially his own teacher—Kshitindranath Majumdar. Borrowing from the styles of influential sculptors like Henry Moore, Constantin Brancusi and Barbara Hepworth, Kar also sought to integrate his art-making with natural elements and continued to find new ways of reviving classical forms in Indian terracotta and metal sculpting—always in conversation with global trends.
The Bhaskar Bhavan and Amina Kar Gallery
What was even more revelatory was the sight of a whole gallery-worth of works left behind by the little-known artist, Amina Ahmed Kar. Her works reflected her own interest in South-east Asian art and architectural forms, the strong design elements visible in the work of De Stijl artists like César Domela, and her own experiences abroad as well as in domesticity. Some of her drawings suggested dark interior states that were arrived at through a mix of figurative realism and abstraction, often rendering the female face and body in states of distortion. Cubist planes and thick brushwork are often employed to heighten these states of anguish, even though the curation left most of her motivations or methods unaddressed. In spite of these frustrating gaps, it was a singular experience for visitors who had never seen her work before. Her oeuvre holds many clues for Indian modern art historians looking to bridge the gap between male and female presences in the evolving canons of Indian art.
The Jaykrishna Library at Uttarpara
The walk introduced visitors to the wide range of periodicals that are held in its collection—focusing on the evolution of printed artwork and illustrations within them. Some of the most prominent artworks produced in Bengal found life in these periodicals that were circulated regularly, making them an important resource for recreating our own artistic heritage.
Periodicals as a resource for Indian Art
The sheer range of names associated with illustrating these periodicals, and evolving new methods of printing technology, gave one a sense of their importance in churning the intellectual cultures of their day. The pioneering Bengali antiquarian Rajendralal Mitra wrote accounts of India’s architectural past that were usually illustrated by Annada Prasad Bagchi; Joseph Fayrer—a surgeon at the Calcutta Medical College—published a volume titled Thanatophidia of India: Being a Description of the Venomous Snakes of the Indian Peninsula (1872), delivering quite explicitly on the promise of the title with illustrations of the creepy-crawlies executed by students of the Government Art School.
Famous names from the world of literature and the arts
Other famous names included Nandalal Bose, who illustrated several editions of the literary magazine Bichitra—along with Surendranath Kar, Mukul Dey and Asit Haldar. We also saw some rare early illustrations by Gaganendranath Tagore and Upendrakishore Roychowdhury—who put forth his skepticism of the Bengal School works that were being painted at the time—and some early book cover designs by Satyajit Ray as the survey took us up to the years before Independence.
The Jaykrishna Library at Uttarpara
The walk introduced visitors to the wide range of periodicals that are held in its collection—focusing on the evolution of printed artwork and illustrations within them. Some of the most prominent artworks produced in Bengal found life in these periodicals that were circulated regularly, making them an important resource for recreating our own artistic heritage.
Periodicals as a resource for Indian Art
The sheer range of names associated with illustrating these periodicals, and evolving new methods of printing technology, gave one a sense of their importance in churning the intellectual cultures of their day. The pioneering Bengali antiquarian Rajendralal Mitra wrote accounts of India’s architectural past that were usually illustrated by Annada Prasad Bagchi; Joseph Fayrer—a surgeon at the Calcutta Medical College—published a volume titled Thanatophidia of India: Being a Description of the Venomous Snakes of the Indian Peninsula (1872), delivering quite explicitly on the promise of the title with illustrations of the creepy-crawlies executed by students of the Government Art School.
Famous names from the world of literature and the arts
Other famous names included Nandalal Bose, who illustrated several editions of the literary magazine Bichitra—along with Surendranath Kar, Mukul Dey and Asit Haldar. We also saw some rare early illustrations by Gaganendranath Tagore and Upendrakishore Roychowdhury—who put forth his skepticism of the Bengal School works that were being painted at the time—and some early book cover designs by Satyajit Ray as the survey took us up to the years before Independence.
The Jaykrishna Library at Uttarpara
The walk introduced visitors to the wide range of periodicals that are held in its collection—focusing on the evolution of printed artwork and illustrations within them. Some of the most prominent artworks produced in Bengal found life in these periodicals that were circulated regularly, making them an important resource for recreating our own artistic heritage.
Periodicals as a resource for Indian Art
The sheer range of names associated with illustrating these periodicals, and evolving new methods of printing technology, gave one a sense of their importance in churning the intellectual cultures of their day. The pioneering Bengali antiquarian Rajendralal Mitra wrote accounts of India’s architectural past that were usually illustrated by Annada Prasad Bagchi; Joseph Fayrer—a surgeon at the Calcutta Medical College—published a volume titled Thanatophidia of India: Being a Description of the Venomous Snakes of the Indian Peninsula (1872), delivering quite explicitly on the promise of the title with illustrations of the creepy-crawlies executed by students of the Government Art School.
Famous names from the world of literature and the arts
Other famous names included Nandalal Bose, who illustrated several editions of the literary magazine Bichitra—along with Surendranath Kar, Mukul Dey and Asit Haldar. We also saw some rare early illustrations by Gaganendranath Tagore and Upendrakishore Roychowdhury—who put forth his skepticism of the Bengal School works that were being painted at the time—and some early book cover designs by Satyajit Ray as the survey took us up to the years before Independence.
The City as a Museum, Edition 2
The second edition of ‘The City as a Museum’ in 2022 travelled to several spaces within the city of Kolkata—as well as beyond it—to create a map of connections, close-knit communities and dramatic interpretations. The itinerary for this journey was inspired by the artworks in DAG's Museum Collection, which provoked us to ask a series of questions, relating them to built spaces in the city, archives and transformative social imaginaries.
Using Kolkata as a location that expressed national, international and local traditions of art-making, this edition of ‘The City as a Museum’ attempted to re-connect place-names with artistic heritages that were often endangered or on the brink of loss.
From the sketch walk at the Chintamoni Kar Bird Sanctuary
Staging the Tagores of Pathuriaghata
As some of the most influential patrons of art and culture in the city, the Tagore family used their residential spaces as inspiration for their work and style. The home was a precious space in colonial Bengal, representing an imaginary world where greater authority could be asserted, new fantasies could be birthed and cultural traditions revived—away from the public taint of the colonized city.
The House of the Tagores of Pathuriaghata
Gaganendranath Tagore
Water colour and ink on paper
Pramantha M. Tagore, in conversation with Sujaan Mukherjee
Tracing the Fresco
For our second stop, we travelled up the Hooghly river, reaching the banks of Chinsurah—an old Dutch colonial settlement—where the Hooghly Imambara is located.
The Imambara was built to be a sanctuary for pilgrims travelling from various parts of South Asia and beyond in the nineteenth century. The philanthropist Haji Muhammad Mohsin is popularly credited with financing the building, which was completed several decades after his death, by the architect Syed Keramat Ali.
View from the Hooghly Imambara
The clock-tower at the Hooghly Imambara
Workshop on fresco-making
At the Imambara
(Un)learning the past
We arrived at the heart of colonial Calcutta next.
Built during the high noon of Empire when nationalist stirrings were creating strong currents in the cultural traditions of Bengal, the Victoria Memorial presented another aspect of the colonial encounter.
William Taylor
The Triumphal Reception of the Seikh Guns
Engraving, tinted with watercolour on paper
At the Victoria Memorial Hall
Looking before observing
Watching closely
Re-discovering Shanu Lahiri
One of the questions that animated many of our programmes for ‘The City as a Museum, Edition 2’, is the following: How were women artists taking to the art world in colonial and postcolonial Bengal?
This is another story studded with significant absences. However, if we look again—through our own collection—there are some clues about their presence as well.
In Shanu Lahiri's studio
Works by Lahiri and Nirode Mazumdar at the former's home
Women in the art school
Ramendranath Chakravorty
Untitled
The Culture of Science
What were the conditions under which the scientific temper was modulated in the colonial city of Calcutta? If science is a form of universal knowledge, reproducible everywhere under the same conditions, why would a scientist underscore a particular, cultural narrative to explain his own work?
These are some of the questions that confronted us on our next stop—at the Acharya Bhavan and the Bose Institute in Kolkata. The former was the final residence of the pioneering scientist J.C. Bose and his wife, Lady Abala Bose, while the latter was built to accommodate cutting-edge research laboratories across the fields of physics, biology and chemistry.
The Bose Institue
At the Acharya Bhavan
The ceiling of the Bose Institute
The Bose Institue
A retreat for an academic artist
Continuing with our search for meaningful ways to address some of the absences in our own archives, we arrived at the sylvan location of the Chintamoni Kar Bird Sanctuary, which was adjacent to the Bhaskar Bhavan State Museum and the Amina Kar Gallery in Narendrapur, a suburb of Kolkata. Both Chintamoni and his wife had advocated for the overgrown nature park to be converted into a state-supported bird sanctuary, which was realized in 1982 and named in Chintamoni’s honour after his death in 2005. A sketch walk was undertaken to create a collective mural using postcards, emphasizing the role of nature as a source of artistic inspiration in traditional academic training in art.
At Chintamoni Kar's Studio in Narendrapur
Kshitindranath Majumdar
Shri Chaitanya and
Basudev
Sarbothoum
The Bhaskar Bhavan and Amina Kar Gallery
The Past in Print: Exploring the illustrated periodicals of colonial India
For the penultimate event of ‘The City as a Museum’, visitors found themselves treated to a guided walk of the historic public library in Uttarpara that was established by Jaykrishna Mukherjee in the mid-nineteenth century. It is now recognized as one of the earliest—if not the first—public library of its kind in Asia, becoming an important centre of
exchange between British and Bengali intellectuals of the time. It has a couple of residential rooms on the first floor and received literary figures like Madhusudan Dutt and educationists like Ishwarchandra Vidyasagar and Mary Carpenter.
The Jaykrishna Library at Uttarpara
Periodicals as a resource for Indian Art
Famous names from the world of literature and the arts
Pebet by Kalakshetra Manipur
A significant part of our collection is drawn from a body of works largely produced by anonymous artists working around the Kalighat neighbourhood of Kolkata since the nineteenth century. Traditionally described as the Kalighat pat, the typical subject matter of many of these artworks satirized the hypocrisy of the gentrifying elites of Bengal. The works themselves were executed as line drawings with suggestive colour washes: a simple and easily reproducible technique. Mixing the vocabularies of parody, mockery and social and religious critique these works pointed towards the ways in which colonial habits became entrenched in the colony—as similar practices of imperial expansion was undertaken on areas such as the North-eastern frontier states of India, including Manipur.
Anonymous
Untitled (Cat stealing prawn)
Water colour and graphite on paper
So, it was another revelatory experience to watch Kalakshetra Manipur closing out ‘The City as a Museum’ with their iconic performance of ‘Pebet’. Adapting the subject of the hypocritical cat—a mainstay of many Kalighat pat—the play relied on forms of children’s storytelling, performative gestures and movements, plaintive cries, and a largely wordless series of sounds to revive the same spirit of critique and mockery of a pious cat attempting to lure away a brood of birds from their protective mother. Directed by the late Heisnam Kanhailal, featuring a central performance (continued since their first staging in the 1970s) by Sabitri Heisnam—the play struck a thunderous chord with a full audience at ICCR’s Satyajit Ray Auditorium, bringing our programmes to a satisfying end.
Your Views
We are always interested in learning more from viewers like you. If you have a suggestion about a space, a collection or a story we can explore for the next edition of 'The City as a Museum' let us know.
What sites or stories should we include in the 2023 edition of the festival in Kolkata and Mumbai?