(Manu Parekh-pic courtesy Daily Mail. All the pictures used in this article are just representational)
Manu Smruti. Please do not get me wrong. It is just about
Manu Parekh recollecting his six decades long creative career in a well mounted
show at the National Gallery of Modern Art, New Delhi. In his address during
the inaugural function which I could hear in one of the video recordings, Manu
Parekh remembered how artists of his time strived to remain creative artists
while they sought their daily bread from elsewhere. Lucky ones had got it from
the same field through art teaching in schools or colleges but the ones who
were destined to run a longer innings got their bread from elsewhere, as in the
case of Manu Parekh who had worked with the Weavers’ Society ably led by the illustrious
art connoisseur and scholar, Pupul Jayakar, for over twenty five years. And we
know about Krishen Khanna, who worked in the banking field for long and still
going strong, who happened to be the chief guest of Manu Parekh’s Retrospective
show, though interestingly and ironically nowhere in the publicity materials
including the handout and the book published by the Aleph Publishers in
collaboration with the NGMA the word ‘retrospective’ is used. I do not know whether
the word retrospective has gone out of parlance but looking back at the oeuvre
of an artist who has a sense of accomplishment and fulfilment in life should be
a ‘retrospective’ though the ‘in term’ ‘comprehensive survey’ is used in the
forward to qualify the show under consideration here.
The turn rightwards in the new wing of the NGMA takes the
viewer to a dark area of display where the darkest works in the career of Manu
Parekh are on display perhaps, I would say the best works in this artist’s
career. The series presented there is called ‘Man Made Blindness’. The works
done on canvas with thick application of oil colour (though not obviously
impasto in technique), these works show dark cubicles resembling prison cells
where people are seen tormented by the forced blinding. The works have Bacon’s
struggle and Rouault’s ferocity and the dark dungeon feeling evoked by the
artist sucks the viewer into a sense of discomfort. The works were done during
1981 and 1982 and it came as a spontaneous and painful response to an incident
of ‘mob justice’ happened in the winter months of 1980 in Bihar’s Bhagalpur
District. Parekh’s title is a bit misleading; ‘Man Made Blindness’. In the
feudal land of Bhagalpur there used to be so many goons led by politicians,
local mafia dons, upper caste landowners and so on. They used to rape, loot and
murder people while the administration stood a mute witness to all those
atrocities. A bunch of twenty thugs were rounded off by fifteen frustrated
policemen and delivered justice to the public by blinding the thugs and pouring
acid into the cavities where once the eyeballs rested. This rocked the national
conscience and the people in Bihar came out in the street saying that if the
government punished the policemen Bihar would burn. People stood with the
police. This incident was later made into a film, Gangajal (2003) by Prakash
Jha where you could see a frustrated bunch of policemen led by Baccha Yadav (made
the role into history by the NSD alumnus Mukesh Tiwari) blinding the goons in
the police station.
(work by Manu Parekh. source net)
The ambiguity of Manu Parekh’s titling of this series makes
the viewers ask a question, where exactly the artist stood in those days or
even today vis-a-vis the Bhagalpur blinding case. The title says ‘Man Made
Blindness’, which is a neutral title and to push it further you would see it as
a bit accusatory. Had the artist been supportive to the Policemen who blinded
the thugs, he would have perhaps come up with a different title. This may be a
critic’s imagination working like a forensic expert. But upon checking the
history of this blinding case, I came across report came up during those days
of the incident presenting a divided society on the case. Those people who
supported the mob justice which was further supported by the mob had argued
that it was the only way to deliver justice where the delivery systems have
been failed or rendered useless. But there was a different conscience at work
which argued that this mob justice was uncalled for and the human beings did
not have any right to take away ones’ right to ‘see’. They were humanists and
humanism still prevails especially when the discourse of capital punishment and
euthanasia comes up in the society. The faceless society, a single hungry
monstrous organism opens its mouth and demand death for the culprit/s,
conscience keepers of the world or of the country say that there is still
chance for them to reform and spend their life in repentance in the
correctional facilities. Perhaps, I believe that Manu Parekh was with the
humanists then and he found the dark incident a bit too much for his tender
heart to soak in. It was a bitter pill to swallow and an unhealthy social food
to digest. So this series should be seen in this light of the artist’s humanism.
While I was travelling from Ahmedabad to Delhi with Manu
Parekh, he had told me how he was excited to show the works from that
particular period and I too had expressed my interest in watching the Bhagalpur
paintings. After watching them, now I would say that Manu Parekh has been
forced to remain as an under rated artist all these years. If this artist had
done such forceful works, and surprisingly these works are not collected by
anybody so far, why he was not taken to the next level of artistic journey by
the art market or art scene, remains an enigmatic issue. A similar case was
seen when A.Ramachandran’s retrospective was shown in Delhi. His highly
evocative, political and critical works done during the 1970s (including the
Anatomy Lesson, Nuclear Ragini, and Kali Puja and so on) were under discussed
and under estimated as they still remain in the ‘artist’s collection’ category.
I believe Manu Parekh’s best phase as an artist was in 1980s though he has
always showed the ability to come up with such forceful works in different
phases in the following decades, the darkness of 1980s actually should be the
decisive point in Manu Parekh’s creative life. You may find it ironic why I
give so much praise to the dark phase of an artist’s creative career because it
is in the dark phase the artist as in a Bergmanesque moment come to play chess
not only with life but also with death. Dark phase is the moment before
revelations and when things are articulated from the darkness, as there is
nothing to lose nor anything to gain, the utterance remains truthful and
effective.
(Work by Manu Parekh. Source Net)
That does not mean that Manu Parekh remain ineffectual
during the rest of his career. Bhagalpur blinding was interpreted even by the
mainstream media as a ‘symbolic castration’ (though the reports referred Freud,
we could even go back further to meet Sophocles and his Oedipus blinding himself
to atone for the sexual transgression that he committed with his mother. So he blinds
himself.) And also blinding, the symbolic castration is a challenge on the
patriarchal authority as good as Bobbitizing. But our artist is a man who has
always taken pleasure in painting erotic imageries where the surrogate forms of
human sexual organs infest the pictorial surface. Here you see multi-headed
male genitals taking the shape of tubular forms like a Hydra Head and trying to
enter into all the possible forms of hair vaginas often camouflaged as flowers
and leaves. This sexual imagery comes back repeatedly in every stage of the
artists’ career may be as a reminder of his own sexuality as an artist. What I
notice is his effort to stick the porcelain votive eyes of different sizes
stuck on the paintings and sculptures in different times and stages. These eyes
also become potent erotic symbolism that not only represents female sexual
organ but also the male power of penetration. At this juncture I wonder whether
the ambiguity of the Bhagalpur series titles comes from a castration fear of
the artist not as a person but as a collective male.
It is true that most of the artists who have had a career
spanning over six to seven decades must have invariably gone through a Picasso
phase. Right from Ram Kinkar Baij to K.G.Subramnayan to anybody who is a
modernist have had their Picasso Blues. Manu Parekh, may be by choice shows the
reference of Picasso’s famous braying horse head from Guernica in one of the
early works. But then you don’t find any overt reference Picasso and that I
find a great relief and a great distinction of Manu Parekh. Another impressive
series is his drawings done on the rice paper with mixed media. They are simple
evocations of feelings and impressions and quite spontaneous. Whenever people
talk about Manu Parekh, the first thing that comes to their mind is his Banaras
series. As a young man and also as a part of his endless travels in North
Indian states as a part of the Weaver Society employee and a folk art activist,
Parekh had come across the immense visual possibility of Banaras at a very
early age. Ever since, time and again Parekh was going back to his favourite theme
of Banaras. When he goes through a pleasant phase, we see his Banaras thriving
with pleasant colours, and when there is a darkness looming large in the
firmament of the country his Banaras sheds dark tears from red eyes. Today he
is a fulfilled artist and his Banaras has achieved pinkish features and all
happy fluorescent and vibrating. Banaras for Parekh is not just a theme, but it
is an organism that lives in his canvases and it responds to the touches of his
brushes.
(work by Manu Parekh. source net )
Manu Parekh is not a political commentator, but at the same
time, as I pitch my views on the Bhagalpur series, I would say that Parekh is
not blind to the socio-political developments. He does not anywhere reveal his
political leanings through the colours of the flags. Nor does his temple
structures look anything like that you see in Banaras. The chance of accusing
him of being a Hindutva person is lost there (you see I was really digging to find
some old bones). The temple structures are more like caves and ashrams where
one person could hardly sit and meditate. What I see is a lot of Kabirs sitting
and singing than Lord Shiva sitting in magnificent temples. But even before the
BJP could even dream of central power in India, Parekh had been painting
Shiva-Shakti (which I would say Manu-Madhvi) in various forms. He has done a
series of paintings showing the images of stones that even do not look like
Shiva Lingas. Even the recent Shiva series do not look like real lingas because
Parekh gives a bird’s eye view of the luminous lingas. So I lose a chance to
catch the veteran’s Hindutva leanings there also. I am a big failure here.
Interestingly, at some point of the cow discourse that has been throughout the
last century and its embers still glowing towards its last decades, comes up in
Parekh’s paintings and the cow heads look at us with some kind of question. It
is a relevant painting to be shown at this juncture in the NGMA and Parekh got
away uncensored. I should congratulate Adwaita Gadanayak for not becoming a
Palhaj Nihlani and more like a Prasoon Joshi, who knows his lines and tune
well.
There are some sculptures and sculptural assemblages that
Manu Parekh has done during his career. The ones present in the show tell me
that they are all done during the last one decade. Several of them are welded
iron sculptures with the components sourced from farm implements and other working
tools. There are two bronze busts of unknown person with slashes across the
faces with blood still fresh in the wounds. They look like the drawings of
Giocometti; intense and hopeless at the same time. There are two stunning
portraits by Parekh; of Tagore and of Souza. They are exquisitely done
portraits with adequate expressionism of his own kind going into the making of
both. This is where the question always comes back to me; why Manu Parekh was
not a part of the Progressive Movement, in which Krishen Khanna could find a
place as the tail ender? Parekh still has an wounded feeling not to be a part
of the group. I strongly believe that Manu Parekh also should be treated as one
of the Progressive movement artists who shared the progressive ideas and
ideals. But then the technical reason could be this: when the Progressive Group
was formed in the late 1940s and after its formal dispersal when it grew on its
own feeding on legacies and sagas, initially Parekh’s works were not really
corresponding to the Expressionism of the Progressives. At that time Manu
Parekh was more influenced by the folk and tribal art and was trying to imbibe
some sort of indigenous aesthetics into his works. Manu Parekh chose to resist
the easy pull of the Tantric Abstraction that led the indigenous art
experiments for over one decade and by the time the narratives were
experimenting with a national and international narrative style, Parekh had
just embarked on his real stylistic expressionistic venture. Perhaps that
historical dilemma is what makes Parekh as an artist of his own worth and my
demand him to be included in the Progressive Group of aesthetical basis is not
just a friendly demand but a historical one which I am sure sooner than later
the auction houses would accept without acknowledgment.
(Manu Parekh, picture courtesy DNA)
Here we come to the last work; the Last Supper, Christ and
his twelve apostles are feasting on the eve the terrible betrayal. Standing in
front of it I think only this much: Can Madhvi comes Shall Manu be far Behind?
Recently, Madhvi Parekh’s ‘Last Supper’ was celebrated nationally and was even
presented in a church in Kolkata by the Seagull group. This is a beautiful
example of husband getting inspired by the success of wife; Manu Parekh
underlines how he had really worked hard to make people to take a look at the
work of Madhvi Parekh who did not hold any art degree in hand. The Last Supper
is thirteen different portraits of different types of people, each one having a
still life kind of image before him, and arranged in the line of ‘Last Supper’.
I would like to read it as a Last Supper which could be used as a jigsaw puzzle,
perhaps first in the world art history; you could deconstruct the hierarchy. It
is the possibility of this work though it is framed tight as one work. If I was
the curatror of the show I would have presented those twelve pieces differently
on the same wall, letting the viewers’ eyes to bring them together. As
W.B.Yates puts it, beautiful women eat a crazy salad. I wish all the best to
Manu Parekh and this is must visit show.
No comments:
Post a Comment