Friday, November 25, 2005
Minimal art
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Shan Bhatnagar
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Ways of Seeing
The Indian Express Sunday, April 11, 2004 There is this fascinating book called My Name is Red by the Turkish writer, Orhan Pamuk. The book is poised in the midst of a changing world. The sacred state of being that created miniature, painted elaborate borders and gilded manuscripts is being threatened by revolutionary European methods and techniques of painting. A whole philosophy hovers behind what is happening in this confrontation of civilisations. On the one hand is the devotion to established rules and norms of painting, a total obedience to what has been formulated that leaves no space or scope for the individual voice, no possibility for different strokes. This state of being also required an ethical and moral integrity to accept this system. The threat to this world comes from the European painting methods of the seventeenth century, of many voices and styles, of the artist as individual, of different strokes for different folks. This is the argument I wish to use. Before the artist became an individual and found expression in his own imagination, or in a particular style and technique, things were very different for the one who created. The artist belonged to a larger system of visual codification, which was in keeping with norms that were already established. Since there was no personal style in the system there was therefore no signature, only the following of a convention which developed around faith and religion. A lot of activity was around the architectural grandeur of churches, mosques, stupas and temples, the carvings to be found therein or the paintings and mosaics that decorated them further. The result everywhere was of great beauty brought about by faith, talent and virtuosity. And, of course, no identity. The implication was that the self was not as important as the gift to God and the joy to be evoked in the viewer. The notion of artist as individual, as a person to reckon with, as star and celebrity really began with the Renaissance. Some of the artists were renowned, knew the rich and powerful and accepted commissions based on their ability and artistic expression. They had their own style, their own way of seeing and of interpreting reality. There are artists in India today who state that their art so strongly bears their style that they do not need to sign. They say their style is their signature. For buyers the signature is important. There are those who buy signatures, not paintings. And it goes without saying that a fake will definitely need a signature to establish credibility. There are artists who develop different styles during their artistic career. Each style implies the release of passion and intensity. Once that is spent, the style too, is exhausted and loses meaning. Then the artist moves on to another style. There is a need to establish ownership to each style, hence the signature. Certain young artists today declare that they are too busy experimenting with medium, method and material to pause and develop a style that they get identified with. But they require a signature to establish claim. How confused everything is, as we go round and round. There are as many opinions as there are people and no way of knowing the right from the wrong.
All-beauty and All-bliss
But ask for happiness and strive with fate;
Because thou art, the wretched still can hope.
Because thou art in him, man hopes and dares
Because thou art, men’s soul can climb the heavens
And walk like gods in the presence of the Supreme.
Because thou art, the soul draws near to God:
Because thou art, love grows in spite of hate
And knowledge walks unslain in the pit of night.
Because Thou art All-beauty and All-bliss
My soul blind and enamoured yearns for Thee;
It bears Thy mystic touch in all that is
And thrills with the burden of that ecstasy….
Time voyages with Thee upon its prow –
And all the future’s passionate hope is Thou.
Friday, November 18, 2005
Art is made to disturb
- Even for this talk, we were encouraged to be "engaging" and "visual." The implied caution? Don’t use big words, don’t be too intellectual. Remember, this is an audience of visual people.
- Where does this come from — this notion that thinking and making are seperate acts? That graphic design must be inherently anti-intellectual because it is a creative enterprise? And why is being "popular," — and by extension, participating in "popular" culture — understood somehow as antithetical to an engagement with the larger world of ideas?
William Drenttel: Designers talk about creating a body of work, but they seldom talk about acquiring a body of knowledge. They take pride in being makers, but seldom identify themselves as thinkers. They claim to be emissaries of communication — to give form to ideas. And while we would like to believe this is true, it seems to us that all too often, we, as designers, are called upon merely to make things look good — rather than contributing to the evolution and articulation of ideas themselves. This is an age-old criticism of design, but it seems especially relevant this morning as we talk about the Culture of Design.
- We believe the "Culture of Design" has become implicitly about branded culture: culture that we can see, that we can name, that we can buy and sell and package; culture that is synonymous with style; culture that resonates with novelty and which, by conjecture, dismisses history as mere nostalgia; culture that determines and drives our reactions to the constantly changing pulse of modern life.
- But we do believe that we are fundamentally restricting the pluralistic character of design by adopting a fixed vocabulary for process. Not everyone in this room sees "generating value" as a rationale for what they do. By expanding the very definition of design, are we simultaneously narrowing the rich variety that makes design such an exciting profession?
JH: But it is sobering, nonetheless, to consider how culture awards real contributions. The French cubist painter, Georges Braque once said that art is made to disturb, while science reassures. Design, it seems, lies somewhere in the middle: it is both and it is neither, playing both ends against the middle: and it is this middle-brow, middle-class, middle-of-the-road intellectual apathy that diminishes the real power of design: its power as a humanist discipline. We believe that to engage that discipline — and the many cultures it serves — means simply being better educated. This has perhaps less to do with culture, and more to do with having a cultivated mind; less to do with technical virtuosity, and more to do with intellectual curiosity. Less to do with popular culture — and more to do with culture, period.
WD: Francis Bacon once said that knowledge and human power are synonymous, and it is in this spirit that true power is perhaps ideally achieved: it is power informed by learning, collaborating and considering how the ultimate quality of our lives is made, whether in reference to our health or our schools; our environment or our foreign policy; our aspirations in science or in space; or our humanitarian achievements, as people, in war and in peace.It's that simple. And it’s that complicated.
Art Attack
For years I used to be in awe of art. Not 'awe' as in respectful bewilderment, but deep dread at the thought of encountering, and having to comment on, mystifying masterpieces. In corporate foyers, my host would halt in front of an expensively mounted work and pause knowledgeably. In an upwardly mobile (if inwardly puerile) world, style can be bought from a designer and clipped accents picked up from the nearest call centre. Talking intelligently about art is the most difficult skill to acquire, and I had nearly given up being able to do so, until inspiration struck. The secret lay in approaching the problem the way a boy scout would, i.e. by being prepared.
I prepared myself by spending a sabbatical pouring over anthologies and memorising the artists' signatures. An assiduous fortnight later, I could tell the impressionist's squiggle from the post-modernist's flourish. When next I stood before an abstract outpouring of colour, I was ready. "Ah", I said, stooping low (in both physical and moral sense), and shooting a glance at the corner of the frame. It even seemed to wink at me conspiratorially. "Husain", I said, turning to my host, "has such candour. Even his hubris has a touch of innocence about it". As important as knowing whom one is talking about, is knowing what to say. Comments like 'how beautiful' and 'so pretty' have no place in the art con-noisseur's (hyphen intended) lexicon.
Ideally, your words should be as mystifying as the paintings themselves. With practice, I also learnt not to rush headlong into comments. Instead, I would murmur, "Subtle, very subtle", and pause reflectively before coming up with: "Hebbar seems to be in continuous dialogue with his own archetype". The admiration of my listeners was palpable and my culture quotient soared. When I had eloquently declared that Bhupen Khakkar 'connected to forbidden quarters of the soul', that Akbar Padamsee's 'world-view was the healing balm people needed', and that sculptor Adil Davierwalla's stark lines were 'fraught with myth overlayed with contemporary sensuality', the world hailed the arrival of a true aficionado.
Just when I thought I had mastered all the possible perils of art appreciation, a new one reared its head. I am actually beginning to like some of the stuff. THE TIMES OF INDIA : October 11, 2005
Monday, November 14, 2005
The Shock Of The Old: Rethinking Nostalgia
Nostalgia has always been a bad word for designers. Like “retro” and “vintage” it smacks of a sort of been-there-done-that ennui — looking backward instead of forward, nostalgia presents as the very antithesis of the new. Even hard-core historians resist its emotional lure, which can, in an instant, dramatize the truth and distance it from fact. Nostalgia skews by privileging episodic time over chronological time: in this context, “memory” is cast as a curious, dangerous and rather unreliable lens. Or is it?In the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, nostalgia was seen as a disease, an ailment to be cured. (One doctor described it as “hypochondria of the heart.”) Over time, it came to typify the porous romanticism of bygone eras — Victorianism, for example — conjuring visions both sentimental and ornamental. The streamlined reserve of the International Style obliterated such decorative excess, inaugurating an age of uncompromised neutrality: later, we called it modernism and applauded its appeal to functionality and its celebration of formal rigor. But the notion of longing never really went away because at the end of the day, it remains an essential human condition. Equally human is our need to mark time: so we keep calendars and agendas and diaries and albums, all of them gestures of physicality and permanence, tangible, graphic reminders of our own evolution, participation and engagement with the world around us. (My current research has revealed, among other things, evidence of an astonishing range of visual imagination from civillian diarists proving, rather conclusively I think, that DIY began a long time ago.)It is easy to classify such efforts as lacking in authority since they are, by their very nature, autobiographical: if they’re the micro, then the macro — the big world vision — would seem to require more public forms of expression. As designers, we tend to orient our thinking to the broader demographics, visualizing messages that are read and recorded by multiples. But multiples are made up of singulars: in other words, in order to truly understand how to reach people visually, why wouldn’t we start smaller? Why aren’t our efforts more centralized, more specific to one person at a time? And in the spirit of such inquiry, why wouldn’t we consider, as the grass-roots cultural anthropologists that we really are, what makes people feel and notice and care and think — and remember?The short answer is that in principle, memory is a fairly unreliable search engine. And while it has received substantial mileage in televised courtroom dramas, where witnesses are asked, under oath, to recall events “to the best of their ability,” it is generally thought to be deeply personal and highly flawed. Yet it’s those personal flaws — the ones that our logic tells us should be overlooked — that sit right up there with nostalgia as qualities we typically resist, loosely on the assumption that our work needs to read to a wider audience rather than resonate with a smaller one.Nostalgia is fuzzy and utopian, privileging an imagined past over a real one. And indeed, nostalgia can be kitsch — playing on the collective recollections of a generation and teasing the psyche through the occasional retro replay — but why can’t it be more than this? Big branding conceits — Old Navy bringing back '60s hip-huggers, for instance — is one way to mobilize nostalgia as a catalyst for sales, but it's a collective memory and besides, we’re all sort of “in” on the irony. Can’t the use of personal memory in the public realm be more transcendant, more emotionally raw than this?A potentially controversial new report released this week claims that sleep, often maligned due to its its obvious link to idleness, might be another opportunity for understanding the role of memory: more sleep may actually bring about more clarity — not less. ‘In different stages of sleep,” writes Kate Ravilious in this morning’s Guardian,“our brains piece together thoughts and experiences, then file them in a structured way, giving us clearer memories and ultimately, better judgment.” File and structure might not be the first words to come to mind in this discussion, but to the degree that point-of-view remains a key ingredient in so much of what we produce visually, why would we disparage the role of memory in our work? Human memory is more than merely fallible — it’s intangible, difficult to pinpoint, virtually impossible to quantify. And yet, bearing witness lies at the core of a very particular kind of history: it is a history that, more often than not, depends on the collective stronghold of a series of highly individualized stories. (Consider the tradition of oral and visual histories — The Shoah Project, for example.)I’ve had a growing concern over the past few years that designers in general — and design students in particular — seem predisposed toward a kind of virulent antihistoricism. It’s as if a bow to history precludes innovation, that looking back prevents you from looking forward. Such analytical disparity is perhaps deserving of its own post — but for now, I’d like to suggest that the tension between nostalgia (old) and novelty (new) is one of authenticity (personal) versus authority (public). The designer, as maverick, maker and visual missionary, is perhaps culturally predisposed toward The Next Big Thing. But it’s the last little thing — and maybe the thing before that — that really interests me. And which, for that matter, makes me rather nostalgic. Posted by Jessica Helfand on October 27, 2005 08:25 AM Jump to Most Recent Comment
Saturday, November 12, 2005
A pleasure for the soul
The Indian Express Home > Front Page Saturday, November 12, 2005
INDIA EMPOWERED TO ME IS When art, the custodian of a nation’s culture, gets its due
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Arts Infrastructure Initiative
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Art Notes
This a very powerful and symbolic image. I am thinking about how I could incorporate it into a painting. Please do not tell me it look like a Smiley until you read up on it. posted by Bob Abrahams on 17 October 2005 at 10/17/2005 1 comments
Art Glossary
Pertaining to that which arouses sensitivity to beauty and emotion, as opposed to the practical, intellectual, or scientific. An aesthetic response is an appreciation of such beauty, and an aesthete is a person who subscribes to this philosophy and regards themselves as having special sensitivity to beauty. The Aesthetic Movement began in the late 19th century in England with leaders being Walter Pater, Oscar Wilde and Aubrey Beardsley. The slogan was "Art for Art's Sake" meaning being that conveying a sense of beauty superseded all social and moral considerations. The word aesthetic is derived from the Greek "aisthetika", meaning perceptibles. Credit: Kimberley Reynolds, "Illustrated Dictionary of Art Terms" Credit: "Random House Dictionary" AskART
Friday, November 04, 2005
Art Renewal Center
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Art and Neuroaesthetics
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Divine Carriers.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Sri Aurobindo on Indian Art
Reviewer: Dr. Leonard Stein (New York. N.Y.) - See all my reviews
Sri Aurobindo and the Mother on Beauty, Art and Yoga
Literature and art are or can be a first introduction to the inner being - the inner mind, vital; for it is from there that they come. And if one writes poems of Bhakti, poems of divine seeking, etc., or creates music of that kind, it means that there is a Bhakta or seeker inside who is supporting himself by that self-expression. There is also the point of view behind Lele's answer to me when I told him that I wanted to do Yoga but for work, for action, not for Sannyasa and Nirvana, - but after years of spiritual effort I had failed to find the way and it was for that I had asked to meet him. His first answer was, "It would be easy for you as you are a poet." (Ref: Letters on Yoga. P: 536)In art also we must remain on the heights.
Friday, July 08, 2005
The ultimate ‘bricks’ of existence
[The Pioneer: April 8, 1998]

Vishwanadhan combines and recombines these basic geometrical abstractions of our traditional symbology of creation and existence into paintings after paintings, sometimes painted in concentric brushstrokes of vermillion, saffron, touches of sap green and all forms stacked up one layer over another, sometimes brushed off partially, sometimes painted in an austere range of greys and browns like the early Cubists.
The patient viewer will not miss the continuous pulsation of movements, both in terms of colour arrangement and linear directions, a changing and at the same time changeless continuum of the fabric of life. This we find in his intaglio prints with the minimum linear elements. One thing intrigues me, that is the dark ‘dots’ in them. They are to made up of raisin dust. Then comes his large combines of squares of sand of different colours—the squares or the kshetras that make rectangles which can multiply in area ad infinitum….
Pictorally they have the beauty of the physicist’s equation that carries the bewilderingly enormous range of findings in a few algebraic expressions balanced on either side... His stacked up colour horizontals sometimes overlap, sometimes leave some bright chinks or cracks of the white canvass and the small sources of pure white light change the bright tropical colours dawn in unhurried brushstrokes…
Paintings By Elisabeth Buschmann

One never saw the mystic world in such lucid simplicity.
Tusar N. Mohapatra
Sunday, July 03, 2005
I am interested in the global context of the issue of global citizenship. Citizenship has largely been seen in its social, political and legal aspects. How does aesthetic and ethical experience form part of cultural citizenship? Sociologists and policy thinkers think of culture in the context of global governance and of culture as institutions. I believe cultural works ignite the issue of the cultural citizen.
In a world that is increasingly instrumentalist and consumerist, I think it is very important to set up against such a world the great aspirations of literature and poetry, of painting and music, because art and aesthetic experience adds ardour and passion to our principles and our beliefs. It should be seen as an essential part of our freedom and not an optional part of our lives.
Homi K. Bhabha
Towards a global cultural citizenship
The Aesthetic
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
The Art of the Matter
Every parent hopes their children will develop to their fullest potential. To achieve this, parents work hard to get their children into the best schools, and push them into focusing on getting high marks in examinations. In the process they discourage children from activities like art, music and sports. Despite good intentions, they may actually be limiting their children's brain development in areas crucial to their eventual success, even in fields like engineering, medicine and science.
New research on the human brain shows that many of the brain's uniquely human skills were developed for and through the use of hands. Evolutionary biologists now tell us that it was the use of hands — to grasp a stick, to throw a stone or spear, to shape a pot on the wheel — which caused the brain to develop its amazing abilities of specialised processing. The brain did not come ready made with these skills. So the continued use of hands is critically important to the stimulation and childhood development of the human brain.
Frank Wilson's recent book, The Hand, describes studies that reveal this co-dependant development of the brain and the hands, particularly in brain capabilities like spatial thinking that are key to advanced fields like engineering, surgery or reading MRIs, space science, mathematics, computer programming and chip designing. Wilson tells of the experience at CALTECH, the eminent engineering school in California. Performance scores of its engineering students were rising in every important area except spatial thinking, where they were falling. As spatial thinking is vital to problem solving, particularly in emerging technologies, this was worrying. Eventually they realised this was caused by limited physical spatial hand activity.
Arts and crafts are, perhaps, one of the best ways to do this. Your future engineer or doctor should be spending much more time in hand-oriented activities — sculpture, painting, pottery, knitting, weaving, chopping vegetables and making chapattis. Reviving arts programmes in schools might be a good way to get our children to use their hands in ways that will develop vital brain skills. This must be accompanied with a concerted attempt to have children spend less time watching TV or a computer screen and more doing hand-based creative tasks. So if you are concerned parents, ask your children's schools to ensure time for creative art every school day, every year, right up to the final board exams!
We all sense that the arts are dying in schools. We are aware of problems of funding and the low priority given to arts education. This is partly because we want to make our children competent for the job market. In the ensuing drive to train children in maths, sciences and languages, we do not want to spend time and resources on what we perceive as marginally useful subjects like music and art. Teachers, parents and governing bodies — all want children to score high marks so they can get into the best colleges. I don't know how to fight this tide but I do think we need to be concerned that our children's brain and mental development is not unnecessarily stunted. If we could see that the arts will help them be better at engineering, science and medicine, then perhaps we will find ways to have them continue art.
The main reason we are so confused about the value of art is because the arts have become disassociated with everyday life. We are unable to see that the skills that develop in doing art are interrelated with our general abilities and evolutionary development. Spatial thinking, creativity, heightened concentration and perception and fine motor skills that develop in the arts are also the very mental skills needed in today's advanced professions. If we want the arts to be meaningful, we have to find a way to reintegrate art into our lives. I am reminded of Nelson Goodman's rejection of the classical question, "What is art?" and preference for, "When is art?" School art programmes need to reconnect art with the broad spectrum of human needs it has traditionally served. It must be a redesign that does not start with the Western notion of studio arts but with the more integrated Indian traditions of art making. I have been thinking about a new approach to arts education, and call it "Art from Indian Hands".
In India, one cannot but help notice the range and depth of art. It is everywhere: in the saris, shawls, kitchen utensils, household tools, festive decorations, floor and wall paintings, road shrines, toys... Perhaps the reason for this richness of visual languages is the evolution of India's cultures. Great epics and systems of philosophy, religion, medicine and law were transmitted orally. Words were largely heard and not seen. During these centuries, there developed parallel visual languages to express many of these ideas (in form, colour, geometry and symbols). This rich visual inheritance has survived and informs the making of everyday things and in meeting physical, social and psychological needs.
In Indian villages, art making is still integrated with everyday needs. Weavers, potters, storytellers, jewellery-makers, woodworkers and ironsmiths are still part of the village community. They may not necessarily make art but meet everyday needs in artful ways. They tell stories and transmit traditions and values. They are aesthetically rich. Even in urban India, hand making of art continues like the toys made on the streets of Delhi with recycled materials. Each region has developed its own visual forms and languages that reflect its history, geography and social context. Climate and availability of materials is reflected in their artwork. This depth and variety of art/craft affords a rich palette to choose from for this programme.
In the "Art from Indian Hands" programmes, children will be taken on a journey through Indian art forms that will show the integration of art with daily life in our diverse regional cultures. These will provide springboards for making art that will be relevant to contemporary children in both primary and secondary schools. The programme is not trying to get children to imitate traditional arts and crafts. That happens now and then in schools. This aims to do something much deeper — to get them to understand the languages of art and to use them afresh in their own contexts.
The schematic structure of "Art from Indian Hands" starts around a cluster of human needs and art forms that help meet them. It will look at art that meets needs for celebration (seasons, harvests, marriages, festivals, rites of passage); beauty (make-up, jewellery, clothes, body painting/mehndi); utility (cooking, storage, travel); psychological reasons (protection, identity, friendship, spirituality) and entertainment (performances, story-telling, toys, games).
As these needs are universal, the programme will encourage children to look at their own needs and to use traditional examples as springboards to create their own responses to their needs, adapting the form, language and materials to their local environment. Some examples:
Along with brain development, hand activities also foster concentration, increase attention spans and induce calmness. Jasleen Dhamija, a well-known Indian crafts historian, found that the repetitious hand movements in several Indian crafts induce a meditative quality that is linked to the body's biorhythms. Repetitious and soothing hand activities may also help children with ADD (attention deficit disorder) and ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder).
The aim of "Art from Indian Hands" is to provide art teachers, parents and children an approach and tools that will help them understand the process of making art, and that will help young brains develop to their full potential. The impact of this programme may not be immediately visible in better marks in board subjects, though that is also possible, but will be more apparent in the long-term when they go to college and eventually practise their professions.
Am I overstating the value of art making? As an artist from India who has been engaged in education, I have come to believe that the purpose of art is much larger than what is commonly understood. Art making is a fundamental human response to life and is deeply connected with brain and mind development. It is also an endeavour that helps deepen our understanding of cultures and can lead to the unifying discovery that most human needs transcend cultural differences. I wonder if schools, parent bodies or art institutions would be interested in developing such a programme?
Shakti Maira is an artist and educator. Reach him at shaktimaira@rediffmail.com
http://www.hindu.com/mag/2003/11/30/stories
The Golden Light
And the grey rooms of mind sun-touched became
A bright reply to Wisdom's occult plane,
A calm illumination and a flame.
Thy golden Light came down into my throat,
And all my speech is now a tune divine,
A paean-song of Thee my single note;
My words are drunk with the Immortal's wine.
Thy golden Light came down into my heart
Smiting my life with Thy eternity;
Now has it grown a temple where Thou art
And all its passions point towards only Thee.
Thy golden Light came down into my feet,
My earth is now Thy playfield and Thy seat.
Sri Aurobindo
8-8-1938
(Revised 22-3-1944)
http://www.poetseers.org/the_poetseers/sri_aurobindo/the_sonnets