Dimagee Naxals and the Orwellian Thought Police

 (George Orwell)

“The other is hell,” said Albert Camus. It was quite an existential statement. But in the hands of Edward Said, the “Other” became the one who is forced into hell. For the survival of any ideology, there has to be an “Other”—someone against whom we define ourselves. It makes us believe that our survival depends on comparison. We other, therefore we are.

Yesterday, when the Prime Minister spoke to the nation on the occasion of the 80th Independence anniversary from the ramparts of the historic Red Fort, he once again created another “Other”: the Dimagee Naxal, or the “mentally Naxal.”

The Prime Minister, however, did not pinpoint who these Dimagee Naxals are. Nor, unlike an earlier infamous political remark, did he suggest that they could be identified by their clothes.

Dimagee Naxal is the latest contestable term to enter our political vocabulary. The Prime Minister could have meant several things by it. Perhaps he meant “Urban Naxals”—the so-called Naxals who live in cities. But these are not the gun-wielding, emaciated young men and women in the forests of Bastar or Dandakaranya who have taken Maoism as their political faith and way of life.

Urban Naxals, in the contemporary political imagination, are more likely to be intellectuals, academics, students, writers and citizens who think differently from the dominant ideology—in our case, the dominant right-wing Hindutva ideology. They have previously been described as “anti-nationals,” members of “tukde-tukde gangs,” and by many other labels.

In the immediate political context, however, Dimagee Naxal could mean something else altogether. It could refer to the educated, jobless and frustrated youth of India—the very people who can be easily identified because they think, speak sense and assert their logic.

They want democracy. They want fraternity. Their primary demand is remarkably ordinary: decent jobs that allow them to fulfil their dreams and take care of their families. The government has offered plenty of promises, but very little that addresses this immediate anxiety. And, interestingly, this particular goalpost cannot simply be pushed twenty years into the future, to 2047.

Ever since the BJP-led NDA government came to power at the Centre in 2014, its political rhetoric has relied heavily on hyper-nationalism. To maintain that rhetoric at the same intensity, it has required a constant production of “Others.”

First, it was Pakistan. Then Indian Muslims—an established “Other” in Indian majoritarian politics since the late nineteenth century. Then China and Chinese products. Then students raising slogans of “Azadi.” Then beef eaters. Then those who did not consider the cow their mother. Later came Maoists and “Urban Naxals.” Then anyone who appeared too sensible, too educated or too questioning.

The list went on.

But now the process of “othering” appears exhausted. There are only so many Others one can manufacture.

Pakistan does not seem interested in constantly providing the enemy image that Indian political rhetoric requires. China plays its own strategic game, intelligently combining military pressure, trade and diplomacy. Indian Muslims have been forced to negotiate with a political reality that has repeatedly diminished their sense of security and belonging. Intellectuals and professors have been intimidated. Beef politics has transformed what people eat into a political question. Urban Naxals continue to write autobiographies, essays and books to record their experiences.

So the ruling party needs a new category.

And like Hollywood, which periodically needs to invent an alien threat when terrestrial enemies become insufficient, our political imagination seems to have arrived at something even more abstract:

The Dimagee Naxal.

The term needs some qualification. “Dimagee” suggests someone with a brain—someone who thinks, questions and acts. “Naxal” suggests the perpetual disruptor, the person who asks uncomfortable questions about justice, equality and rights.

But how does one identify a Dimagee?

A man with a beard, or a woman with kohl-lined eyes and unconventional clothes, might be taken for an intellectual. But appearance does not make an intellectual. A thinking person could look completely ordinary, without sending out any visible signal that says: I am brainy.

And therein lies the problem.

If the “Dimagee Naxal” is defined by thought rather than appearance, then virtually anyone can become one.

Our governments have historically been uncomfortable with education and independent thinking because education teaches people to ask questions. And where there are questions, there is the possibility of dissent, resistance and, eventually, political change.

The old feudal order, codified through texts such as the Manusmriti, placed severe restrictions on who could access knowledge. In contemporary India, one can see echoes of this anxiety in the systematic politicisation, weakening and restructuring of schooling and higher education.

The Dimagee Naxal also resonates disturbingly with George Orwell’s idea of the Thought Police.

In 1984, Orwell imagined a totalitarian state in which the government does not merely police actions or words—it polices thought itself. Surveillance becomes permanent. Movements are monitored. Words are scrutinised. Rooms are bugged. Telephones are tapped. People are watched. And eventually, even an unexpressed thought can become evidence of a crime.

We seem to have arrived, rather smoothly, at the threshold of that Orwellian condition.

Perhaps the Dimagee Naxal is the final stage in the politics of “othering”: when there are no more convincing external enemies left, the enemy becomes thought itself.

Anybody can now potentially be accused of a thought crime.

Be ready for it.

What is the next stop? I do not know.

But history tells us that regimes built entirely on the production of enemies eventually begin to consume themselves. The politics of permanent othering ultimately turns inward; the regime starts devouring the very society it claims to protect.

So, beyond all the expected calamities, perhaps there is a small silver lining around the clouds.

The final Other may eventually become the regime itself.

JohnyML

The Symbolism of Backpacks in E. P. Unny and Ai Weiwei

 (Cartoon by E P Unny)

Social revolutions often throw up symbols that remain fresh in the socio-cultural and political imagination, even though they may not play a direct role in revolutionary acts. In 1930, Mahatma Gandhi picked up a mundane object like salt and transformed it into a powerful political symbol through an unprecedented combination of creative imagination and practical philosophy. He made salt from seawater, openly defying the draconian British laws governing its production and sale.

In 2013, the Aam Aadmi Party picked up the broom as its election symbol, promising to clean society of bribery and other forms of corruption. Later, when the Chief Justice of India condescendingly described Indian youth as “cockroaches,” an Indian student, Abhijit Deepke, then studying at Boston University, created a satirical Instagram platform. The image of a creature that had hitherto been considered despicable was transformed into a lasting symbol of organisation, protest and agitation.

While the cockroach grew in stature through its many avatars, shaped by the imagination of millions of young Indian content creators, another mundane object emerged as a powerful symbol of the educated, rejected, frustrated, dispossessed, betrayed and job-seeking youth of India: the backpack.

Alongside the dominant cockroach symbol, the backpack became an enduring marker of the Gen-Z generation that spearheaded the agitation on the ground and brought about a series of changes in the government's attitude. A minister resigned, the Prime Minister began making reels, and parliamentarians started adopting Gen-Z expressions and language. Meanwhile, the cascading effect of the protests began to spread across the country.

(Remembering by Ai Weiwei)

Irrespective of gender or class—and regardless of the brand or price of the bag—most young people use backpacks for their convenience. They can carry their dreams as well as their worldly possessions in them. Unlike many other kinds of bags, backpacks leave the carrier's hands free, allowing greater freedom of movement. The shoulders and back together can support the weight while travelling, and most backpacks are relatively inexpensive and affordable.

For a young person, a backpack can contain a miniature version of their room, their work, their aspirations and, in a sense, their life.

When thousands of young people arrived at Jantar Mantar in July this year, demanding the resignation of the Union Education Minister, none of them knew how long the struggle would last. They came prepared with backpacks containing spare clothes, snacks, laptops, mobile chargers, books, water bottles, sanitary napkins and, above all, hope and determination.

The protest continued for a month, accompanied by the state's increasingly ruthless resistance, which went to the extent of using brutal pellet guns against unarmed students demanding their rights.

Backpacks were everywhere.

Today, I came across a cartoon by the veteran intellectual cartoonist E. P. Unny of The Indian Express. It contained nothing but the image of a backpack, complete with a water bottle tucked into the side net and a book and pen in the outer pocket. The caption simply read: “15 Aug 2026.”

What a befitting cartoon for the 80th anniversary of Indian Independence.

This minimalist cartoon transforms the Gen-Z symbol of an ordinary backpack into a lasting icon of an ongoing socio-cultural resistance. From Delhi, the Gen-Z protests have spread to different parts of India, and now even Gen-Alpha has begun raising its voice for better educational facilities and teaching. They are supported by Gen-Z leaders who have chosen to function as a pressure group rather than convert the momentum of the movement into a political party.

Unny is not alone in transforming the backpack into a cultural and political symbol.

In a very different context, the prominent Chinese conceptual artist Ai Weiwei created an installation using thousands of backpacks. Titled Remembering, the installation was a response to the devastating 2008 earthquake in Sichuan, China, in which more than 80,000 people lost their lives, many of them schoolchildren.

Weiwei investigated why the death toll among schoolchildren was so high. He discovered that many school buildings had collapsed because they had been constructed with cheap materials, amid rampant institutional corruption and the alleged siphoning of funds by politically influential building contractors.

For Remembering, Weiwei used 9,000 school backpacks. Arranged on the façade of the Haus der Kunst in Munich, the backpacks formed the sentence “She lived happily for seven years in this world” in Mandarin. The words were made up of backpacks, each associated with a child whose name his team of researchers had identified through grieving parents and government records.

The backpacks in Weiwei's installation carry the weight of children who are no longer there. Unny's backpack, on the other hand, carries the presence of a generation that refuses to disappear into silence.

E. P. Unny's untitled cartoon and Ai Weiwei's Remembering thus symbolise two different tragedies of our times. One speaks of a generation fighting to protect its future; the other remembers children whose future was brutally taken away.

Yet both works ultimately speak to the same human imperative: the fight against forgetting.

A backpack can carry books, clothes, food, technology and the small necessities of everyday life. But in the hands of an artist—or in the hands of a generation in revolt—it can carry something much larger: memory, resistance, grief, aspiration and hope.

JohnyML

Solitary Companions: A Critique of Naina Dalal’s Paintings

 

 (Naina Dalal)

The title ‘Solitary Companions’ tells it all; the mood of the retrospective of Naina Dalal, curated by Girish Shahane and presented by Splash Art Gallery, Gurugram, at Travancore House, New Delhi, is that of the solitary pursuits. Naina Dalal is that veteran woman artist who stands representative to all those women artists who have been under-represented, under-appreciated, under-rewarded and under-recognized in the male dominated modern Indian art history. The reasons could be many; as the title shows, she has been a solitary traveler and remained in the shadows for a long time not because of her lack of inspiration or drive but because of choice. That choice should be seen as natural and cultural at once. It is natural because familial as well as professional duties take them off from the track of being independent artists. It is cultural because art has been a male bastion for a long time, despite the feminist interventions and related discourses.

 

This sets the stage for the late recognition of many a woman artist in India and elsewhere. With feminism completing its first, second and third waves, with many new waves of it taking it to different inclusionary directions, women artists are now ‘re-cognized’ for their contributions. The late recognition gained by Saroj Gogi Pal, Arpita Singh, Chameli Ramachandran, Madhvi Parekh and so on explain the trajectory of such recognition, besides the market interest in their works. Men or women, the vintage artists are the toast of the market because they have a ‘history’ of existence as a ‘working artist’, their productions are well catalogued, often due to their educated and forward-looking children than the galleries or museums, they have been written about at various stages of their creativity, and finally they have been a part of the male dominated scene as spouses, participants and fellow travelers.

 Naina Dalal’s oeuvre should be seen against these historical markers. Dalal chose her husband, art historian, pedagogue and artist, Prof. Ratan Parimoo, and chose a different approach to art unlike that of her husband, which is more surreal and illustrative. That takes a great effort from the women artist, breaking away from the style, dictum and idiom of their husbands. We have women artists who start differently and end up in their husbands’ style of art. Dalal has trodden a different path, which could be said overtly existential, brooding and addressing an internal other, engaging with her in a constant dialogue. In my view, the title, Solitary Companions is also a communion of these two personal entities, a manifested and a latent one.

 

The Post-(Amrita) Sher-Gil visual aesthetics was not easy for the new crop of women artists who came in 1960s and entered their matured phase in 1970s. While Sher-Gil relatively kept her freedom as an individual away from the political ongoings of the time and was almost at loggerheads with those artists who were nationalistic in the aesthetical approach, her visual production remained free of the political overtones which the later generations of women couldn’t have avoided. However, the public-private divide that functioned as a restrictive binary for an artist like Dalal, even in her mature years goaded to address more of her identity as a woman rather than a woman who has a say in the public domain.

 

Self-mythologizing is a result of such interior addressal and could be seen in the works of the post-Sher-Gil women artists like Saroj Gogi Pal, Dalal and Anupam Sud, which changes considerably by the time of young generation of artists of the 1980s like Nalini Malani, Rekha Rodwittiya, Pushpamala, Najot Altaf and artists of their ilk. Dalal was a witness to the changes that happened in the art scene of Baroda and could function as a silent precursor to the changing (feminist) scenario, yet deviating fundamentally from the art of the men who led the scene and the other two female artists who got early acknowledgement like Nilima Sheikh and Nazreen Mohammadi. Dalal’s self-mythologizing is more poetic than overtly political or sentimental. It is like a poetic soliloquy, a constant search for dialogue with the self/interiority/inner-other. And that other should be seen as more representational than an isolated one. The inner woman stands for all the other women of the time who knew that they were created for a greater purpose but due to socio-cultural and politico-economic reasons rendered bereft of such agency.

 Solitary efforts come either from the awareness that one is all alone in a mission or from the philosophical fact that in life one cannot but be alone. In a time when collective movements were taking shape or in action for facilitating social changes not only in India but all over the world, someone feeling so isolated from all those should be seen carefully. Though the political scenario of the world was in turmoil and in India the making and breaking of the new nationhood was taking place at once, the predominant emotional and intellectual environment had veered towards the existential issues of the human beings. What was the meaning of life and what had made the humans so lonely in the world were the questions that haunted the artists and poets. Romanticism though had given way to stark Realism to take the central stage, for many creative people romantic search for the meaning of life and their loneliness provided solace and artistic trigger. Dalal’s works should be seen in this light.

 

Dalal shares camaraderie with the poets of the time rather than the visual artists it seems. In her works the female protagonist is always seen in relationship with an ‘other’, a nascent male figure or a strong female figure. While the male figure is emblematic of the longing for sexual/emotional companionship, which should function in an ideal plane rather than on a mundane one, the female figure is the ‘true friend’, a confidante. The relationship happens in silence rather than eloquence. Their gestures are fluid and there are no defined actions of an embrace or holding hands. However, in many of her works one could see the image of horse coming repeatedly. Horses, in those years stood as a major trope of the male artist, exemplifying their virility, passion and unbridled hope for progress. However, unlike the male artists’ horses, Dalal’s and Pal’s horses stand for their anchor and vehicle, an implicit desire to self-deification with a devoted mount as a constant companion.

 

Self-deification, the Devi-idea of Indian women, however is not the case here. The Devi-Doormat binary does not seem to be applicable while dealing with the works of Dalal. The deification process is an internal desire to be beyond and transcendental in physical and mental manifestations; the perennial desire to transmogrify and experience a magnified and intense experiential reality, which women of the early feminist phase knew, could only exist in an imaginary plane. Here my attempt is not to posit Dalal as a proto-feminist, as there are no overt feminist ‘waves’ in her works but are definitely open ended for feministic interpretations, but to keep her at par with the poets like Kamala Das, Arun Kolarkar, Nissim Ezekiel and so on, who had written about ‘empty afternoons with feverish thoughts’. This afternoon alertness is diametrically opposite of the idea of Siesta that one sees in the works of Sher-Gil and in the imaginary confinement that frames her protagonists.

 

The feminine alertness is not a natural attribute alone but a culturally acquired trait that is the central mood of Dalal’s works, which have a tricky balminess about them. They are not mean to sooth but to make one think about their existence. The early works, especially the oil paintings done during the 1960s show this alertness in a visible way as the gaze of the protagonists are directed towards the viewers. They are unabashed in their nudity and their counter-gaze is not vacant or submissive. Nor are their eyeballs blackened beyond recognition to suggest the hollow darkness that they are in. The protagonists of Dalal’s paintings direct their counter-gaze at the viewers in alertness. One cannot just fool them, cajole them and coax them into doing what they don’t intend to do.

 

Dalal’s works are informed of the Fauvist- Expressionist verve that the paintings of Paul Gauguin have. If one avoids the exotic gaze of Gauguin and the inviting gaze of the female protagonists that he preferred to paint while in Tahiti, there is some kind of a dignity and strength that he attributes to those women. They are not just partners of his sexual fantasy; instead, they show the freedom of women in that society. They lie on their back, on their stomach, lean against trees, wear colorful summer clothes, they display their ‘fruits’ and they sport a deceptive smile on their lips. They obviously would have inspired Naina Dalal, the way they had inspired Amrita Sher-Gil and T.K.Padmini, two women artists who painted the interiority of women’s mind. While looking at the works of Dalal, I could connect a lot with the works of T.K.Padmini though Dalal might not have seen her works during her formative years as an artist. However, I do not understand why the curator tried to tie Dalal’s works in the traditional Rasas of Indian aesthetics, which I thought was a very poor thought of an otherwise sensible curator.

 

JohnyML

DELHI COLLAGE OF ART: An Art Carnival that could Grow into An Art Fair

 

(Ashwani Kumar Prithviwasi: The Founder Director of Delhi Collage of Art. It is a portrait painted by Piyush Aswal, a first year student at the DCA)

Delhi Collage of Art. The misspelling is conspicuous. Auto-correct soon changes it into ‘College’. You force it back to ‘Collage’. In 2011, I had curated a show at Gallery Ragini, New Delhi with a ‘wrong’ title; A4 Arple. Auto-correct made it ‘Apple’ again, and again. I changed it back into ‘Arple’. My argument was simple; A4 size, which was created for the manual typewriter, later got adopted into the computer parlance, became a standard format not only for the paper but for the writing itself. Such perpetuation of technological jargons is often accepted without questioning. If there is a wrong spelling, our brains auto-correct it. Through the project, I was expecting the viewers to make visual corrections, if there were any, while looking at the works of art.

 

When Delhi Collage of Art was started by Ashwani Kumar Prithviwasi, a young artist in his early thirties at that time, people noticed two things; the spelling ‘mistake’ in the name of his institution and his unusual surname. Later Ashwani revealed that his choices were deliberate. He wanted to start an institution that helped young talents to become professional artists. The name of the institution was to be Delhi College of Art with the right spelling. But he knew he cannot use the name of another institution which was also in the same city. Delhi College of Art is a public sector art institution from where Ashwani himself had graduated. The tribute that he had in mind for his alma mater was ridden with legalities. So, he settled for ‘Collage’ and as the word suggested the institution catered to a variety of people from different social layers, genders and ages. Today, it is a successful institution that gives diplomas and advanced diplomas, officially recognized by international art establishments.

 

(Shridhar Iyer at the DCA Carnival Platform with Ashwani)

Ashwani’s surname too evokes curiosity. Prithviwasi means an earthling. Every being on this earth has equal rights, Ashwani believes. He thinks that he shouldn’t be vain by his religion, caste or social status. Transcending himself beyond all kinds of limitations, a positive thinker and an intelligent entrepreneur, Ashwani started preparing students for gaining admission in the fine art colleges. Soon he could gain acceptance both as a humanist and art educator. Today, students join Delhi Collage of Art not just to prepare themselves for art colleges but to become fulltime art professionals armed with diplomas obtained from Delhi Collage of Art. Ashwani says that in the first year he focuses on skill development and in the following years he lets the students to pursue creating art in the traditional mediums as well as using unconventional and cutting-edge mediums and materials.

 

The success story of Delhi Collage of Art is now indisputably etched in the minds of Delhi’s art people. Every year Ashwani conducts an Art Carnival, a sort of annual exhibition of the Delhi Collage of Art Students. In 2024, he has expanded the scope of this annual carnival by sending open invitations to the established artists in Delhi and elsewhere. The recently concluded DAC Art Carnival saw the participation of DAC students, diploma holders, professional artists and international invitees. The carnival presented a medley of visual practices that expressed the ideas, ideologies, affinities, skillsets and directions of the participants. An overemphasis on naturalistic skills seems to be ‘a thing’ that gives the carnival a predominantly amateurish look. In the naturalistic visual din, the works of the professional artists seemed to have lost their aesthetics and purpose. It calls for two things; one, inclusion of art history in the syllabus of the Delhi Collage of Art. Two, a curatorial intervention in the whole setting up of the show.

 

(Annual fest of Delhi Collage of Art in January 2024)

The salon type display, a sort of visual cacophony, seen from a different perspective looked attractive on the walls of the Lalit Kala Akademi Galleries. Conventionalists among the art lovers may not have liked the jumble of visuals. But getting the viewers overwhelmed by the ‘DAC Aesthetics’ could be one of the aims of the organizers. If so, they have not failed in their attempt. The carnival atmosphere that Ashwani and team had created supplemented the display of art. He also opened the platforms for intellectuals, art critics, poets, designers, educators and professionals from different fields to make formal presentations before an enthusiastic audience. During my presentation on Delhi’s art criticism scene from 1990s to now, upon my suggestion, Ashwani expressed his willingness to create a database of India’s art historians, critics and curators, as an open source for the benefit of the art professionals.

 

Delhi Collage of Art, through its carnival platform has proven its capacity to grow further and become an art fair of a different kind. What the government run agencies have failed to do could be materialized by the efficient team work led by Ashwani. One could only wish him all the best.

White Cube Versus Colorful Walls: Galleries and Changing Visual Experiences

 

(Image courtesy: Net)

White, as far as galleries are concerned, is not a racial index. Ironically, it stands for neutrality. It reflects all lights, all thoughts and all visual engagements. It separates the work of art displayed against it from the surroundings and the possible attributes that enhance or affect the meaning of the work during focused and dispassionate contemplation by the viewer. Perhaps, viewer is exempted from this discourse for he or she is just another attribute to the art galleries and events. The contemplation of art these days, is mostly done by art buyers, dealers, collectors and auction house personalities. That justifies the scheduling of events during an art do; previews before views and VIP previews before the open doors for art ‘people’.

 

The color white and the conventional rectangular spaces have been the reasons for calling the galleries white cubes, though cube is just a euphemism for squares with varying angles. Such designated gallery spaces replicate the idea of modernist grand narratives. The space almost determines the viewers’ attitudes and their kinetic orientations within it. Unlike in the large scale museums where people audibly express their surprise before masterly works, exchange art historical anecdotes, the overlapping narratives of the live guides who conduct the flock of visitors through halls and the gleeful noises that the children make, the white cube galleries hush the people up with their sanitized interiors. Galleries, more than museums become stringent civilizing agents in this way and visiting a gallery becomes a civilizing ritual, if I rephrase Carol Duncan’s argument a bit.

 

(Image courtesy: Net)

Breaking away from the white cubes was a way of the artists who rebelled against the grand narratives of modernism and they thought that these sanitized grand structures were commodifying interfaces. Those artists who went into the making of conceptual art using poor materials, emerging technologies and their own corporeal bodies discarded organized white cube spaces and propped up their interventionist practices in impromptu spaces or in the spaces that were ready to create ruptures in the conventional art making and viewing. Immateriality and temporality became the defining status of the works of art that broke down materiality and object experiences and converted them into conceptual experimentations. Art being an expression through a medium, materiality couldn’t have been wished away completely. Hence, artists went for abject materials that evoked aesthetical revulsion initially followed by intellectual deliberations.

 

However, white cubes are structures that never say die. They are determined spaces with assumed fluidity with the arrival of a vigorous art market. Had it been once a place for dispassionate contemplation without external influences or distractions, later it became a space that could replicate interiors of elite habitats virtually, interestingly, by adding certain distractions to the very viewing space. It was done through certain minimal touches of change and major tweaking of the viewers’ consciousness and conscience. Galleries changed the ambience of their interiors by changing the nature of light, darkening the interiors to create light spots that highlighted the works, drowning the surroundings in utter darkness. It came as an offshoot of video art but became a fad in general display even. The white cubes came masquerading as dark caverns, making the viewing or art an exploration or expedition through an unchartered land.

 

(Image courtesy: Net)

The determined spaces with certain square feet of display area with a familiar layout to the regular visitors suddenly became confusing labyrinths where navigation turned out to be an experience in itself rather than the works of art exhibited on walls or floors or screens. The breaking down of grand narratives became another set of obscure narratives that needed physical and mental unpacking at once. If the white cubes were an offshoot of a colonial discourse, the navigational challenges now posed by the galleries by changing lights, layouts and wall colors became an imperialist offensive that demanded subservience, unquestioned acceptance and never ending awe from the viewers. The white cubes, once the temples of civilizing rituals and grand narratives are now the theme parks with mindboggling roller-coaster rides. The attention of the viewers is taken away from the machine that took them to gut-wrenching movements, instead they are meant to focus on the exhilaration that that the movements impart. Often it turns out to be a para-jumping with a malfunctioning parachute.

 

Colored walls of a gallery, taken positively, are a pleasant distraction from, as one of the artists would put it, ‘the usual drab of ‘the’ white’. They do accentuate the presence of the works on display so long as they remain subdued. But the screaming colors, indiscreet daubing of all what are available in the color chart of a paint-maker, absorb the works the way a cunning croc would do to unsuspecting thirsty lambs. The Poppins candy like walls in a gallery may be a fun thing for the first timers but for the seasoned ones, besides the visual titillation, it offers nothing but a terrible sense of discomfort. Someone wearing gaudy suits may be interesting to look at for once but a pack of such buddies processioning through a narrow street would make one think of a harlequins’ carnival.

 

(Image courtesy: Net)

White cube is old fashioned now, many think so. Adding hues to the walls does make some impact of on the viewing experience. However, thinking of it, a work of art, if it is done in a conventional medium, has to be seen in a neutral space, devoid of particular physical contexts. The neutral spaces function as crucibles for the contexts to flow in virtually. It doesn’t mean that the museums and galleries have to stick to white surfaces. There could be colored walls, heavily decked up frames exuding the glories of royalty. But a gallery space is a space where royalty is an aspiration but not a given reality. It is meant to be a class-less, caste-less and color-less space. Treating adjacent walls in jarring colors doesn’t really enhance the quality of the works.

 

-JohnyML

 

Blinding Visual Silence of Artists from Kerala and Elsewhere During the Gaza Crisis

 

(Work by Banksy in Gaza)

Art is the child of its circumstances. Art could happen in isolation but the resultant work is always a product of its own physical and intellectual environments. Sometimes, art tend to hide its real intentions in order divert the attention of the authorities or resort to some other methods of expression so that the censors find them passable, harmless and innocent. Such clever display of harmlessness, when passed through time sheds its hood and show the real face. It becomes an object with telltale evidences of the time in which it was born. It also tells the story of the artist who has caused it. It is irrelevant whether the artist has left some journals and anecdotes in order to connect the dots or not. Whatever unsaid in art is chiseled out by time, if someone in that projected time takes interest in the said piece of art object.

 

A question sent by one of my Facebook friends caused this preamble. He asked, requesting anonymity, why artists from Kerala and elsewhere have not yet responded to the Gaza War through their works. Yes, in such events that shake up human conscience artists, irrespective of their land of origin find seeds for their art. They react to it the way Picasso had reacted to the bombing at the Basque town of Cadacaus. Picasso’s response is now in everybody’s mind and it is called ‘Guernica’. It has become such a landmark work that ever since the artists from world over when they responded to an atrocity or calamity, extracted symbols from this huge painting and employed them in their works to express their angst. But Picasso is now seen as a ‘modernist’ whose grand narratives existed within certain intellectual monoliths, in other words, it is old, odd and stereotypical.

 

(Question sent by a friend)

Whenever there is a crisis in the world that brought humans to despicable states of existence and several innocent lives are lost for no reason of their own, the abjection and revulsion that the artists feel in their minds come out as works of art which is generally called protest art. Sometimes protest art register a protest and sometimes they invite world’s attention to the crisis. The more is the fame of the artist the more is the traction of his or her message through the protest art. Of late Banksy, the anonymous artist from London, whose works, ironically are sold for millions of dollars (no other anonymous artist is sold for such obscene prices so far), had involved in the Israel-Palestine crisis by landing in the crisis ridden areas and painting pictures of hope (often with children as protagonists, a clever ploy to get the attention of the people), which, it was reported that, were lifted by art dealers and their agents for post-war commerce elsewhere.

 

Protest Art is sometimes dubbed as reactionary art. The negative connotation weighs down on the real intention of such art. Reactionary art can be just naïve and hypocritical but all kinds of protest art are not necessarily so. Protest art too needs a positive environment to flourish. Where totalitarian regimes are in place or state censorship is rampant artists do not dare to make protest art that challenge the authority. Art that has the critical edge and has the ability to dare the authorities may go underground and anonymous (exactly the way Banksy had started off in late 1980s in England) in such situations. Result; a lot of graffiti in the city walls, posters, performances, videos and secretly shared documents and images.

 

(Ai Wei Wei)

Today, it is not difficult to trace the origins of a graffiti and underground art. With the presence of AI controlled CCTVs and other surveillance mechanisms, authorities could zero in on the artists and if need be, curtail them from such activities by imprisoning or slapping sanctions on them. Ai Wei Wei is a best example of such artists who dared the one party ‘democracy’ of China and got incarcerations in return. All the artists are not Banksys or Ai Wei Weis. It takes a lot of guts to speak up and a dare the authorities. During the times of peace, one could talk about the war times and express angst against atrocities of wars one’s heart’s content. But in the war time, especially when the authorities are on the side of the perpetrator, the artists cannot speak for the victims.

 

It is not a rule though. In the present context, though India has lately condemned the ongoing war in Gaza and pummeling of the Arab citizens by the Israeli forces and the Arab retaliations, one does not know whether the Indian authorities really entertain artists in India speaking on behalf of the Hamas, the Arab extremists who fights for the freedom of Palestine. Though there are writers, intellectuals and journalists speak against Indian authorities for siding with the Israel, their reactions are contained by the counter narratives rampant in the official, unofficial and citizen media. Art is slightly different in that case. Words can be responded with words. Art’s power cannot be responded with another kind of art, especially when the artist who has done the powerful protest art is famous like Ai Wei Wei or Bansky who have an international standing.

 

(Work by Ai Wei Wei)

Whenever the issue of censorship has come up for public debate, we have talked about self-censorship as a ploy to hoodwink the authorities. During the rise of the Nazis in Germany, many a German Expressionist had resorted to allegories and metaphors that did not speak of the Nazis but spoke of the totalitarian rulers and authorial fallacies culled up from the vast repository of European literature including that of Shakespeare. When India was under the rule of non-BJP regimes, artists spoke of the local, national and international crises through their art. Now, with regimes showing totalitarian traits both in the center and state, artists do a lot of self-censorship. Look at the kind of art that is produced in Kerala, where there is a thriving art scene. They produce such art that does say a lot about the land that they live, the abstract ideas expressed through forms and a lot of concern for environment. There is a joke doing rounds in the art scene; when there was a crisis in the tribal belt of Vayanadu, in Kerala, it was easy to paint the crisis in Kashmir or Palestine. A child died of hunger in Kerala is neglected while Alan Kurdi, the Kurdish toddler died in the Mediterranean seashore is a talking point for the artists in Kerala.

 

(Alan Kurdi)

Artists in Kerala may be afraid of the totalitarian regimes. Or they may be doing self-censorship. Even if both are not the case, then they may be speaking through metaphors. One cannot say for sure. What is sure is this that protest art is Kerala and elsewhere has become a part of city beautification projects, funded by the authorities and promoted by the mainstream curators and art promoters. We are as well as they are now spellbound. We need to wait for the spell to wither off.

 

-JohnyML

When Someone Places Curio Shops over Art Galleries and Works of Art

(Screenshot of a message sent to me by a senior woman artist)

“Yesterday I was asked by a visitor to the exhibition why should he pay so much more for “an art piece“ when he could get something better finished and “finer” for a few hundred rupees from curio shops. He had also visited an exhibition at Fine arts college and could not see why youngsters should waste their time and talent making things out of “muck” and scrap. I did a poor job of explaining. Hope when you have time to spare you can write something for clearing such doubts.”

When I got this message in my inbox, from a reputed woman artist, what came to my mind instantly was the shallow understanding about art that people still carried in their minds. It reminded me of the statement that often people make when they see some masters’ works that apparently look naïve and child-like; hey, what is the big deal. Even my child could do this. Why does it take a great man/woman to do this stuff? The answer given to such bravado often ekes out stereotypical answers from the informed; yes, then why don’t you or your children do it?

This man does not differ much from such cynical people. Perhaps, he was not particularly sarcastic or condescending. He was just being real there! His idea about art lies something around a ‘finished’ product, something very Aristotlean, imitation of nature. While looking at the works of art that do not confirm his ideas about art as mimicking the objects and concepts, he feels that they are not up to the mark. And he does see a lot of art that are polished, finished, rounded and confirming to the commonly held ideas about art as mimicry.

(Aristotle)

However, this Aristotlean understanding of mimesis has a problem because the conceptualization of mimicry, while taking nature into consideration, obliterates culture from its discursive ken. Culture, as we understand today is the cumulative manifestations of the lives that people lived so far on the face of the earth. The early art did not confirm the ideas of mimesis though our ancestors were trying to imagine and execute the events, participants and objects exactly the way they had perceived them. They were trying to confirm but the confirmation needed more conceptual orientations and scientific understanding and overall development of brains that facilitated the accumulation of skills required to do sophisticated images and objects as we see today.

It too may take years for the human beings to arrive at the exact mimicry of nature in their creative expressions. They literally wanted the reflecting surfaces such as mirror and lenses in order to capture images and express them in verisimilitude. Imitation reflected truth and surface value was important for verifying the exactitude of that truth. The western thinking developed mostly around the Greek School of thought etched indelible marks in the minds of the people all over the world about the idea of exactitude, irrespective of the cultural variations chosen by the people in different continents, countries and regions. The western thought therefore moved around the existence of a complete body, a perfect body and an unblemished body that became the fundamental measure of beauty, truth and aesthetical as well as social acceptance.

Joseph Kosuth, taking directly on the Aristotlean idea of mimesis and also the Platonic idea of ideal form, produced a conceptual work of art titled One and Three Chairs, 1965, where he placed a chair on the floor, a photograph of a chair on the wall and a detailed dictionary definition on the wall adjacent to the photograph. The question was, which one is the ‘real’ chair there? Is it the wooden chair? If so, are all the chairs same in design and material? Is the picture, a chair? Or the definition of it? Between the concept, text and image, and even the object there is a chasm that has to be filled with ideas, culture and related discourses.

(One and Three Chairs- by Joseph Kosuth)

The man who came to see the shows and raised those questions himself is a confused person who needs a thorough education and experience in looking at and understanding the works of art, not only the ones that he sees in the galleries but also the ones that have become part of the history which are available through online and offline sources. The questions, thought cynical and sarcastic in sound and delivery, are good questions. That is one juncture where one start thinking about one’s own concepts about art and the works of art that are available for his consumption. He can get a finished product from a curio shop which would satisfy his aesthetical needs for the time being but once he is a regular visitor to the exhibitions, if he has a probing mind and ability to understand, he will definitely change his ideas on the nature of art.

Young artists are a different lot always. They are the people who respond to the world in a radical and new fashion compared to the old people whose eyes and brains are tuned to the fundamentals of life whatever changes take place in the material world. Hence, even if newer inventions challenge their materialistic and intellectual understanding, after the initial unsettling they land back to their time-tested understanding about life; exceptions are there in those categories though. Young people, on the contrary are dare devils, with a lot of curiosity to know the world and imbibe the ever-renewing technologies. Their ideas about the object(ive) world are different from those of the old people. When such ideas are made into expressions, the youngsters resort to unprecedented approaches and choose hitherto disused objects, materials and concepts. Those who look for beauty in the conventional sense, such works of art may be a disappointment. But the viewers, art collectors and so on, cannot live in a Chaplinesque dreamscape forever where the primal innocence is the driving force and the dominant theme. Contemporary works of art are meant to challenge the conventional ideas about art. When they are capable of challenging, the intelligent ones would say, what a challenge!

-JohnyML