Seeing the Spiritual Behind the Material
Traditional Indian Art at Asia Society
By Val Castronovo
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The Asia Society on Manhattan’s Upper East Side in New York City, in close proximity to UN Headquarters, recently launched two glittering shows devoted to the arts of India. In the Realm of Gods and Kings and When Gold Blossoms opened simultaneously in the fall of 2004 as part of the Society’s special initiative to present the past, present and future of India. The exhibitions feature more than 200 works from two dazzling private collections, many on display for the first time. These jewels represent the Society’s continuing effort to showcase unfamiliar artworks.
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| Krishna as a prince approaching the village girls, Kishangarh, Rajasthan, India; ca. 1735-1740. Courtesy of the Cynthia Hazen Polsky Collection |
As the Society's new President and curator, Vishakha Desai, writes in the Foreword to the handsome catalogue for Gods and Kings: “From its inception, the Asia Society has made a commitment to present the best of Asian art in ways that can open up broader vistas of Asian cultures. The exhibition, In the Realm of Gods and Kings, continues and strengthens our efforts to create innovative approaches to appreciating Asian cultures through artistic traditions.”
Enter the darkened gallery rooms on the Society’s third floor and be transported to two worlds—one earthly, the other divine. The focus is on brilliantly coloured miniature paintings from the 16th to the 19th century, culled from the collection of Cynthia and Leon Polsky and their donations to the Metropolitan Museum. The courtly pursuits of kings and princes, Mughal emperors and Hindu Rajput rulers, vie with the romantic goings-on of gods and gopi maidens, Krishna and his human paramour, Radha, to be specific. The reigning Muslim Mughal emperors of the 16th to early 17th century took their cues from their Western European counterparts and patronized artists who eschewed idealized portraits and paintings in favour of realistic, highly individualistic pictures rendered in documentary-style detail.
As the exhibit text explains, “until the 16th century, there are few realistic representations of Indian rulers or courtiers. However, the early Mughals showed a new and restless inquisitiveness about man and nature, focusing attention on the individual, the particular and the idiosyncratic,” a clear echo of Renaissance tenets. The tiny portrait A lady at a window (Mughal; ca. 1750) is a case in point. So-called window portraits, creating the illusion that the viewer can peer through a window, had characterized Mughal art since the 17th century, mimicking Renaissance portraits in their use of perspective to create the illusion of depth.
Royals and noblemen bathe, hunt and enjoy hookahs, wine and women with great abandon in the discreet gallery rooms. But the show only starts to gather steam, literally, when viewers step into the rarefied realm of Krishna, that divine dark-blue figure of Vishnu incarnate who cavorts extravagantly with Radha, a cowgirl (gopi). A succession of pages from several fabled illustrated manuscripts celebrates the god of love’s amorous romps with Radha and forms the show’s epicentre, radiating passion, heat and unabashed joy. See Krishna and Radha in a grove (illustration to a dispersed Bhagavata Purana series; Bikaner, Rajasthan; ca. 1600-10) and you’ll get the picture. A beautiful maiden, presumably Radha, swoons at the approach of Krishna in the guise of a royal prince on horseback in another iconic work, Krishna as a prince approaching the village girls. As Andrew Topsfield writes in the catalogue, “Krishna here is not only the devotional hero but a majestic monarch, commander of all he surveys”.
The young gopis are all in love with Krishna and he makes the most of it. One day, he spies a gaggle of these young maidens bathing in a river. Feeling especially mischievous, he steals their clothes and climbs up a tree, forcing the blushing beauties to stand before him and beg for mercy. But the gopis, we learn from the show, “were not really upset with Krishna. They were delighted to be in the company of their darling.” (See Krishna steals the gopis’ clothes; illustration to a dispersed Bhagavata Purana, Book X, Ch. 22; Bikaner, Rajasthan; ca. 1600-10.)
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| Devi on the lotus, from the Tantric Devi series. Basohli or Nurpur, Punjab Hills, India; c. 1660-1670. Courtesy of the Cynthia Hazen Polsky Collection. |
The exhibit is riddled with such gems, including a smattering of 20th century photographs by the late Raghubir Singh (1942-1999), in addition to traditional sculptures, ivory relief work and decorative objects. But no review would do the show justice without mention of another Hindu cult deity, Devi, the Great Goddess. A study in contradictions (she has a benign side but a quite menacing one as well), she had a strong following in the northern Punjab Hills region. Devi on the lotus (illustration from the Tantric Devi series) shows the bejeweled goddess serenely perched on an open lotus set against a fire-orange background; as the accompanying text explains, “in her hennaed right hand, she holds a lotus flower, the attribute of the bountiful goddess Lakshmi”. The Tantric Devi manuscript series, originally some seventy pages in all, comprises illustrations of Devi in each of her multitudinous forms, accompanied by Sanskrit verses that give the word-picture. The Sanskrit verse that appears on the back of the splendid Devi on the lotus fashions her a “Mother of the three worlds … adorned with variegated ornaments/In my heart I meditate on that goddess/that Absolute One.”
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| Top left: Gold ear studs in the form of lotuses, set with rubies. Assam, India; 19th century. Courtesy of the Susan L. Beningson Collection. Photo: Benjamin Harris. B.S.K. Top right: Sandals for a deity (padukas) of sheet gold over lac, set with rubies, emeralds, and diamonds and hung with pears. Deccan, India; 17th-18th century. Courtesy of the Susan L. Beningson Collection |
But stepping off the third-floor elevator at Asia Society, one is first regaled by the Susan L. Beningson Collection of Indian jewellery. Some 150 treasures from the 17th to the 19th century, mostly from the south of India and for women and deities, shine brightly in When Gold Blossoms. Gold is the stuff of South Indian jewellery; the North Indian variety of the Mughal and Rajput cultures is characterized by precious and semi-precious stones. According to Indian tradition, jewellery has immense power: gold has the power to purify, while gems convey the positive energies of the planets to those who wear them. The exhibit’s title is also a reference to the forms from nature that adorn the items. The gold and ruby lotus-shaped ear studs (Assam; 19th century) at the show’s entrance illustrate the point quite well.
However, as curator Molly Emma Aitken explains in a preface to the catalogue, there’s more here than meets the eye. For beauty is only part of the appeal. “Ornament ... means life in India. It is auspicious, and it protects and brings growth and prosperity. It is inherent to beauty. It is a pleasure. But it is also a vital repository of social meanings. To adorn a person is to offer him or her protection, prosperity, respect and social definition.” Such life-affirming properties are richly on display in this eye-popping exhibit of sparkling nose-rings, anklets, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, crowns, braid covers, hair pendants and more. The 18th-century miniature Silver, gilded swing for a deity (quite possibly the fun-loving Krishna) was designed to accommodate both the god and his consort. Two tiny rods were provided for Hindu devotees to push the divine one. Seeing it is a sacred treat.
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Val Castronovo, a former Senior Reporter at Time Magazine, where she worked for 21 years, is a freelance journalist specializing in art exhibitions coverage and arts-related stories. Her articles have appeared in the United Nations Secretariat News and www.seniorwomen.com. |
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