Dagger with Nilgai (Blue Bull) Hilt, from the Shahjahani era

This beautiful dagger is dated from 1640, during the reign of Mughal emperor Shahjahan. Shahjahan's rule, based out of Agra and Delhi, lasted for 30 years. It was a period of great cultural and artistic flowering. Some of India's most beautiful monuments belong to this period; but Shahjahan also patronised the arts and crafts. This beautiful nephrite and steel dagger reflects not only the Mughal appreciation of craftsmanship, but also of the natural world. See how wonderfully the grey-green nephrite showcases the delicate ears of the Nilgai!

https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/453253

The dagger is currently at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. The description on the museum website says "Daggers such as this one were sometimes awarded to officers who had distinguished themselves in military victory and were worn at court as dress accessories indicating royal favor. Animal-headed hilts were especially favored, and the realism of their rendering conveys the keen appreciation for nature by Mughal artists.

On this dagger, the hilt portrays a nilgai, or blue bull, one of the most beautiful animals found in India, and terminates at the base with a leafy scroll and lotus flower. Carved from a bluish-green nephrite that approximates the color of the animal, this hilt not only demonstrates the artist's thorough mastery of hard-stone carving, but also displays a level of accuracy and sensitivity that suggest close observation of a model, perhaps one of the captive animals kept in the imperial zoo."

The dagger found its way into the personal collection of Nasli Heeramaneck, a Parsi dealer of antiquities and art objects, who died in 1985. His personal collections were bequeathed to various museums. Around 200 objects from Heeramaneck's Pre-Columbian and Western Art collection was gifted to the National Museum in Delhi, where you can see it displayed even today. 

Bhil art at the Delhi Magic office

About 6 months ago, I went to the Indira Gandhi Rashtriya Manav Sangrahalaya in Bhopal, which in my view is the best tribal art museum in India. I was admiring the work in the Bhil art section, when I met the artist himself, Ram Singh Bhabor. We got chatting and I eventually talked him into coming to Delhi, to do a mural in our office.

Ram Singh Bhabor is from the Jhabua district in Madhya Pradesh, which has many tribals. His work has been displayed in many major government museums and folk art galleries including the Manav Sanghralay in Bhopal, Bharat Bhavan in Bhopal, and also in the tribal museum in Mysore. He has exhibited his work in Dehradun and Bhubaneswar as well. He is in fact, the grand-nephew of the famous Bhil artist Bhuri Bai. Ram Singh has been interested in drawing from a very young age, and has been painting on canvas since 2010.

Here are pictures of the work in progress in our office.

Each painting is composed of thousands of dots, creating different patterns. The dots are arranged to make patterns of animals, trees, birds, deities, daily life, and mythological figures.

Waiting to see what else he does. I think it will take at least one more day to finish it.

Jain manuscript at the National Museum, Delhi

This Jain manuscript was commissioned in the 1400's at Mandu in Madhya Pradesh, under the reign of Sultan Mahmud. This folio is from the collection at the National Museum. It shows a Tirthankara figure turning beads in meditation. Devotees flank the main figure.

It is an illustration from the Kalpa Sūtra, a Jain text containing the biographies of the Jain Tirthankaras, notably Parshvanatha and Mahavira, including the latter's Nirvāna (liberation from cycle of rebirth). Bhadrabahu, a Jain Acharya (guru), is considered the author of the Kalpa Sutra. It is traditionally said to have been composed somewhere in the 3rd century BCE.

http://www.nationalmuseumindia.gov.in/prodCollections.asp?pid=92&id=10&lk=dp10

Jaina manuscript painting is likely a very old tradition, but currently there is physical surviving evidence only from the 1100's onwards. Originally it was done on palm-leaf, because paper had not yet arrived in India. After the arrival of paper somewhere in the 12th century (paper came to India from Iran), the Jain monks starting using it.

By the end of the 1300's, deluxe manuscripts were produced on paper, brilliantly adorned with gold, silver, crimson and a rich ultramarine derived from imported lapis lazuli. The photo I posted above is one of those.

The Jains are even today, a book-loving community, placing emphasis on documentation in their bhandars (monastery libraries). We have to thank the Jain Chalukya kings who ruled Gujarat, Rajasthan and Malwa for their patronage of Jain libraries. One of them, Kumarapala, who ruled in the 1300's from his capital city Patan in Gujarat, commissioned and distributed hundreds of copies of the Kalpa Sutra. Can you imagine hundreds of such handmade painted books? What a sight it must be! Kumarapala founded 21 bhandars in Patan.

The major centres of Jain manuscript production were Ahmedabad and Patan in Gujarat. Other centres included Jaisalmer, Gwalior and Delhi. There were also manuscripts written in Kanarese and Tamil in south India. Illustrations were traditionally painted both on the wooden cover (patli) and on the folios. The patrons were Jain merchant communities, who considered the commissioning of illustrated books and their donation to libraries to be an important merit-making activity.

The new exciting Bikaner House

Ever since Bikaner House got a makeover last year, it has become an exciting venue for exhibitions and events. 

source: https://www.facebook.com/BikanerHouse16/

My friend Sumedha launched her book Mewar Ramayana there. The book is beautifully illustrated with paintings commissioned by Jagat Singh, the Maharana of the Mewar kingdom.

https://www.facebook.com/BikanerHouse16/

In the 17th century, Jagat Singh commissioned a manuscript retelling the Ramayana. The text is in Sanskrit and the illustrations are in three different styles of Mewar painting.

This is believed to be the most well preserved manuscript form of the Ramayana. The rulers of Mewar trace their ancestry to Lord Rama, and it is but natural that in Jagat Singh's long and prosperous reign of 24 years, a book like this was commissioned.

There have been lots of other launches here as well. A photo-exhibition by Jawai, several designer names, art shows, and so on. It's really shaping up well as an alternative to the more well-established India Habitat Center.

https://www.facebook.com/BikanerHouse16/

Adding significantly to the charm of Bikaner House is Vayu, a design store that offers handcrafted artifacts for the home. They also have lots of lovely curios, jewellery and designer apparel. You need somewhat deep pockets, but it's really lovely and I particularly like their vintage silver jewellery. Last year they had a fabulous pop-up of Bungalow Eight from Mumbai; and lots of other things as well. They're open all days of the week, between 11 am and 7 pm.

If you're heading to Vayu, you can round off the shopping with lunch at the popular Chor Bizarre, which has now opened an outlet in Bikaner House.

I'm really glad to see an old heritage building being re-purposed and brought to life. Bikaner House - along with other royal houses - came up in the 1920s, when the British were building a new capital for the Empire. A portion of this grand new capital was set aside for the princely states of India, that were not officially under the Empire, but operated as independent kingdoms acknowledging British power. A large chunk of India was under these princely states (see all the yellow bits in this map below).

Edinburgh Geographical Institute; J. G. Bartholomew and Sons. - Oxford University Press, 1909

To manage the relationship with the princely states, the British came up with the idea of a Chamber of Princes. The Indian name for this chamber was Narendra Mandal; and it provided a forum in which the rulers of the princely states of India could voice their needs to the colonial government of British India. Once a year, the princely rulers descended upon Delhi for a meeting of the Chamber of Princes. So it made sense to build palaces for them.

source: Getty Images https://goo.gl/XlQIBO

Some of the buildings were very grand indeed. The most impressive was Hyderabad House, reflecting the incredible wealth of the Nizam of Hyderabad. Indeed, the Nizam wanted to build something that would rival the Viceroy's building (now Rashtrapati Bhavan), but of course he was not allowed to do so!

The smallest and coziest of the palaces was Bikaner House, because it was more like a bungalow than a palace. The small size now makes it a perfect venue for events.

source: India Today https://goo.gl/AUfLVr

source: India Today https://goo.gl/AUfLVr

Go on. Head over and take a look. And let me know how it went!

Hast-Mudra (Hand-Symbols) at Delhi airport

If you fly into Delhi's Terminal 3, you'll see this: a big installation of hasta-mudras (hand-symbols) as you come down the escalator in the arrivals area.

Like all human gestures, these hastra-mudras are primarily meant for communication. Each one has a meaning and a way of usage. 

The language of mudras was once understood by all Indians; but unfortunately, it has now become an esoteric piece of knowledge, understood only by specialists. The typical visitor to the airport walks past these hands thinking, ah, ok, ummm, mudras, yes, very good, very good, great Indian traditions, yes, yes, very good indeed :) :)

But what do these mudras mean?

An explanation for these symbols can be found in the Natyashastra, a classical manual on the theory and practice of Indian aesthetics (theatre, music, dance, poetics, etc). Based on linguistic analysis and references, scholars date the Natyashastra anywhere from 2nd century BCE to 2nd century CE.

Chapter 9 of the Natyashastra explains 67 types of mudras, dividing them into those using a single hand, and those requiring two hands. It also explains general rules regarding their usage, how the arms are to be moved, the "quantity" or extent of gesturing to be done, etc.

For example, the symbol in the photo here is called "tripataka". Pataka = flag, and tripataka = flag with 3 fingers.

The tripataka mudra can be used for crowning a king; for example, with both hands in tripataka, you can depict the placement of a crown on someone's head.

This mudra is used for anointing someone's forehead with a tilaka. This mudra, with the finger pointing downwards and hand moving up and down is used to represent the flight of a small bird, or the movement of a stream or of a snake.

It is used for raising up something; for example, if you are giving blessings to someone who has fallen at your feet, you can raise the person using two hands in tripataka.

With two tripataka hands facing each other, you can represent a door. You can use it to wipe off tears.

It has more exotic uses as well - for example, if you want to depict an underwater fight between two monsters, you can use tripataka! The jumping of monkeys is also represented using tripataka.

As you can see, a single mudra is used in different ways and combinations, to create different meanings. Traditional classical dance performances in India usually use these gestures as part of their vocabulary.

One of the major reasons why classical dances lose out to 'modern'  dance is the loss of this vocabulary. Over the years, the audiences no longer understand the gestures, and a vital link between performer and audience has been lost. A painstaking re-education is the only way to revive it. It's either that, or resign ourselves to losing these traditions.

My Kotpad saree from Dastkar Nature Bazaar

There are only 8 families in the world practicing the traditional tribal craft of Kotpad weaving. I was delighted to meet Jema and Gobardhan Panika from Kotpad village, Koraput, Odisha at Dastkar Nature Bazaar. They are both National Award winners for their weaves.

The red colour comes from the roots of the aal tree (Indian Madder). Shades of red, maroon and dark brown can be obtained depending on the ageing of the madder and the way the dye is processed (under the sun, in clay pots). Black is developed by adding powdered kumhar-pathar (sulphate of iron; they buy it from blacksmiths).

This white-red-black saree will be one of my most treasured buys. 

Kotpad weave is done using pit looms, which are at floor level, with a sunken pit where there is a foot-operated pedal. Weaving motifs are geometrical, but also drawn from nature - tortoises, crabs, birds and what not. See the photo below; these are dupattas. You can see the popular axe motif at the bottom, making a proud statement of the tribe's roots in the forest. 

Here is another set of stoles:

They can be reached at +91 9938294630 or +91 09938575524.
Sri Gobardhan Panika, National Awardee
Smt. Jema Panika, National Awardee
Mirgan Street, Kotpad - 764058, District Koraput, Odisha, India.

Deepa's Guide to Delhi's Museums

My guide to Delhi's museums is now online on tripadvisor:
http://www.tripadvisor.in/Guide-g304551-k340-New_Delhi_National_Capital_Territory_of_Delhi.html

http://www.tripadvisor.in/Guide-g304551-k340-New_Delhi_National_Capital_Territory_of_Delhi.html

Wall art in Shahpur Jat, Delhi

Last week I photographed this piece of wall art in Shahpur Jat Village. It's a techno-fitted goose with a metallic beak and armour; and there's a sort of Alibaba-esque girl in a cape riding it. Maybe it's a boy. I can't tell for sure. It's by Aerosol Assasins, and they call it Samsam.

The Samsam goose wall is very close to my office, where we have been witnessing the neighbourhood change for the past 4 years. From a rustic village with buffaloes, Shahpur Jat has morphed into a new hip location with boutiques and cafes. This wall art is part of the new hipness. Here's another one, by Mattia Lullini, an Italian artist (photo from his website):

Interesting huh? Certainly spices up what is otherwise a very sorry-looking collection of badly maintained residences. There's lots more stuff like this, all over the village. You can see it here. http://st-artdelhi.org/ The artwork on walls has been done by visiting artists, both Indian and international.

Whenever an outsider decides to go into a neighbourhood and spruce it up, we immediately run into the issue of agency. To me the important question in wall art is always - Whose wall is it? Whose choices are these? What power issues are at play? Agency is everything.

I can't help thinking that the locals (i.e. the original residents of the village) probably prefer art that is more in keeping with their own traditions. We see great wall art all over Rajasthan, UP, etc. Here's the most photographed elephant wall art in Udaipur:

I also really loved this representation of Hanuman in Jaisalmer, outside the Hanuman Temple. I wonder which artist did this.

I've spotted some incredible wall art all over India; plastered on humble mud-huts sometimes; and sometimes decorating havelis and temples. This one is from one of the alleys at Varanasi:

My personal opinion is that traditional stuff like this would have probably worked better for the local residents of Shahpur Jat and made them feel this was a real "beautification of the neighbourhood" (which is what St. Art calls this project). Not to mention, it would have kept some traditional artists employed.

But this project was not commissioned by locals. They didn't pay for it. That immediately changes things, doesn't it? They were asked to lend their walls for a free beautification project. Maybe the goose with the metallic beak is something that the flat-owner didn't really want. Maybe he just figured he was getting something for free; and decided to not look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe he hates it now; then again, maybe he loves it now.

Actually nothing about art is straightforward. What is "modern art", anyway? Art is not static. It's not as if we can draw a line between "modern" and "traditional" Indian art. That Hanuman painting on the wall of Jaisalmer temple is pretty funky / modern if you ask me. I know that probably *everyone* in Shahpur Jat loves this one of  'Fearless Nadia' by Ranjit Dahiya:

All art is a commentary about the world we see around us; interpreted through our individual lenses. The techno-goose is one such commentary; so is the gorgeous Nadia, and so are Lullini's weird snakes. The new generation in Shahpur Jat probably doesn't think the same way as their parents; maybe they like looking at art that rebels, or art that provokes. We should not be rejecting contemporary expressions of aesthetics; or we'll just stagnate.

The Bharany Collection - at the National Museum, Delhi

I went to see the Bharany collection on display at the National Museum. The show is called the Passionate Eye, and it represents a small selection from the vast collections of R. K. Bharany, whose son donated this collection to the museum.

Even the loveliest of gems needs a sensitive setting, and I was delighted at the aesthetics of the exhibition. The dark matte background, and the subtle lighting ensured that the objects drew the eye, and you were led through a progression of themed items. 

The Bharany collection is actually very varied; so making sense of it and ensuring that the layout has a natural physical progression without confusing and repeating themes is important. It's like story-telling. Every museum exhibition is a piece of story-telling. 

I was looking around, wondering who the story-tellers were; the magic guys who had highlighted and brought this set of art objects alive. I was lucky to bump into Siddhartha Chatterjee, who designed the exhibition display and the graphics. He was kind enough to explain some parts of the process. I realised, very quickly, the enormous work and thought that has gone into A Passionate Eye. I could only understand a tiny part of the thought process in our ten minutes together, but it was a valuable insight. I would have liked to spend more time, just talking about the project, but you know how it is - the day has just so many hours, and I had multiple meetings lined up. 

In the photo above you can see one of the many highlights of the exhibition; a Rajasthani pichwai, with a Vishnu bronze from Kerala in the foreground. Siddhartha explained to me that in designing this section, they decided to go with a primarily Vaishnavite theme; but also that hidden in one corner were two interesting exceptions :) If you visit the exhibition, see if you can spot them!

A Passionate Eye is on view at the National Museum until 14 August, from 10am -5pm, all days of the week except Mondays.