FindingSalvation in Mythology

Tatehata Akira
Guest Curator

It is possible that what we call " tradition" may have been politically fabricated to overcome the
ident ity crisis of modern times. History is a great chaotic storehouse where almost any sort of image
can be found through selective searching . The past is ultimately incomplete and contingent, waiting
for us to make what we will of it.
Resistance to a politically fabricated tradition is inevitably political. As Walter Benjamin said,
" Even the dead will not be safe from the enemy if he wins ."' In organizing this exhibition of Indian
contemporary art, I was especially interested in how the artists refer to history, what they reject and
what they carry on from the past as they express particular themes that are personally meaningful
to them . It seems to me that what most of them have in common is a fierce desire to give political
salvation to the " dead" and prevent the enemy from winning a victory. The enemy here is the funda-
mentalism that engenders religious and cultural intolerance , narrow ways of thinking that lead to
oppression based on class or gender , and at times even nationalism itself.
The contemporary art of India seldom carries an obvious political message. "Politically correct"
statements do not abound , even in comparison to the art of other regions of Asia . Indian art is alle-
gorical , allows diverse interpretations , and any message conveyed is indirect. Indian history is enor-
mously comple x and chaotic , rendering either-or viewpoints ineffective.
This does not mean , however , that the stance of Indian artists is apolitical. Rather, the political
impact of their art has its source at a more primary level, the artists' fundamental attitudes toward
history and methods of re-examining the forms of tradition proclaimed in modern times. According
to Walter Benjamin , " To articulate the past historically does not mean to recognize it 'the way it really
was' (Ranke). It means to seize hold of a memory as it flashes up at a moment of danger." 2 History
is an image that flashes up in the critical awareness of each present moment.
The artists at the forefront of the contemporary scene in India use richly allegorical images that
have political import of the kind I have described here. Although they mobilize all sorts of iconog-
raphy in this effort, there is no predetermined code that can be applied to obtain a direct reading
of their images. The speaker is always an individual , and the meaning of each sign is attached to
a persona l plumb line dropped into a chaotic vortex of space-time . Because of this, it often appears
enigmat ic .
We decided to use the phrase " Private Mythology " as the English title for this exhibition because
the statements these artists are making are no longer part of a communal mythology. While they
produce allegories with a strongly mythological character, they are not attempting to revive images
from the past that create a romantically utop ian vision of India. Like other modern individua ls, In-
dian artists are relative "others " in their community and are precluded from sharing a common
mythology .
In do ing preparatory research for this exhibition , I frequently heard the word "isolated" in dis-
cussions with Nalini Malani and other artists. There is no organized movement in today's Indian art
world comparable to the Bengal School or the Progressive Artists' Group of Mumbai (Bombay).
Based in large urban areas, the artists define themselves with this word that suggests psychological
pain, projecting a sense of loss, of resignl:l.tionto the impossibility of shared discourse, in an age
when everyone is an "i ndividual. "
By using the title "Private Mythology ," we do not intend to make any sort of ironic comment
on the mythmakers of today . It is because they are fully aware of the dangers of abandoning the
attempt to communicate that they attempt to weave new myths with their own hands in an age with-
out mythology . In the results of this solitary practice we can recognize the power of allegory to
redeem the past, the penetrating intelligence of the artists' critical view of today's society, and , more
than anything else, the richness of the world created by the their imagination.

In selecting the artists for this exhibition , we paid some attention to regional diversity and the artist 's
position in modern history, but our chief concern was to introduce artists representing the most
c learly-defined tendencies of Indian contemporary art. The eight artists invited to participate repre-
sent Indian art in its various phases from the second generation after independence to the gener-
ation that emerged at the end of the 1980s. They are all currently active, producing art with great
energy , and they have all made new work especially for this exhibition.
Below I would like to consider the meaning of the allegories of each artist's "private mythology"
with reference to the work they are showing here.
Bhupen Khakhar is a painter of the second generation after independence living in Vadodara
(Baroda ). He worked as a chartered accountant in Mumbai before moving to this town in mid-
western India in the 1960s, learning to paint by himself and eventually becoming known as the

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 central figure in the Baroda Group with its characterist ic narrative style.
Yayati (cat. no .10) is the name of a king in the ancient Indian epic , the Mahabharata. The scene
portrayed in the painting is literally a personal version of a myth, where the figure of the gay artist is
conflated with the son of the king in the story who sacrifices his youth to reinvigorate his aging father.
The physical coupling of the old man and the angelic youth who glows from within with a mysterious
green light is marked by quietly ironical self-observati on, humor , and a profound poetic sense with
traces of concealing shadows. It transcends the realm of a simple declaration of homosexuality.
The mysterious luminosity of the color in this painting is also seen in the artist 's landscapes
(cat.nos .12, 13, 15, and 16). The vivid reds, dark blues , and browns reflect an indigenous sensibility ,
apparently shining with an inner light rather than reflecting an external light source and injecting
a unique , animistic vitality into these pictures that might be described as portrayals of "the great
earth" rather than landscapes.
Khakhar is also a superb draftsman . An Old Man from Vasad Who Had Five Penises Suffered
from a Runny Nose (cat. no .14) shows a nude figure that is as strange as the title might suggest . It is
a joking but frank gesture , a homosexual fantasy with an odd dignity that humorously challenges
conservative society and its vulgar curiosity toward sexual otherness.
Nalini Malani also belongs to the second generat ion after Indian independence . The compli-
cated allegorical expressions in her paintings seem to be fantasies emerging from the unconscious,
at times referring to sexual oppression, atrocities , and images of death. She works in a Nee-Expres-
sionist style, composing her pictorial spaces with layered , fragmentary images and references to art
history, myths and tragedies of East and West, rendered with powerful brush strokes and fluent line
drawing. But it is Malani's penetrating observation of the contradictions and social absurdity that
add tension to her work. Although she is not a political activist, she has a feminist awareness of
social problems and a critical attitude toward religious fundamentalism. She refers to her own city of
Mumbai by its old name of Bombay because she is leery of the Hindu fundamentalism that rejects
it as a remnant of colonialism . She has also protested against the recent nuclear tests. This socially-
committed , anti-authoritarian stance goes back to her experiences as a student in Paris after the
May uprising of 1968.
In addition to her paintings , Malani is known for her vigorous engagement with site-specific
work, film and performance , and publications. The Sacred and the Profane (cat.no.20) is a unique
installation created especially for this exhibition . The artist has hung four cylinders of Mylar, a clear
plastic film , painted with fragmentary narrative images from the ceiling. The images are projected
onto the walls by lights situated on the floor and they are moved by the breeze of a fan set up near-
by. This work combines painterly elements , film-like qualities , sound , and movement. The dramatic
space that could only have been produced by Malani contains diverse , scattered images that reso-
nate off each other effectively.
Another artist in this show from the postcolonial second generation is Vivan Sundaram , a painter
who works in the narrative tradition of the Baroda Group with a painstakingly detailed style of repre-
sentation. Since the beginning of the 1990s he has been making installations. In this exhibition he is
presenting a new version of The Sher-Gil Archive (cat. no. 32) that he first showed in 1995. It can be
called an installation since it makes use of the walls and floor of an interior space , but it is also a real
archive containing all sorts of historical materials. The viewer is required to read and observe the
personal history compiled by the artist more than to appreciate the esthetic qualities of the space.
Sher-Gil is the family name of the artist 's mother, and one of the relatives represented in this
archive is his aunt , Amrita Sher-Gil, a well-known painter who played an important part in the devel-
opment of modern Indian painting. She was born in Hungary, where Sundaram's maternal grand-
father lived for a time, and she died at an early age . The letters, photographs, and personal posses-
sions of family members are stuffed into boxes placed against the walls around the room along with
articles of clothing on hangers and other objects. Since all of the objects have a personal asso-
ciation for the artist. this museological treatment of the materials without personal emotion is an
artificial form. However, this makes the archive essentially allegorical and guarantees that it will
achieve a kind of victory over the past. Memories of the dead who support the artist 's identity arise
quietly out of the transparent trauma of the space, and the viewer who comes to feel surrounded
by the dead belonging to the artist is led into deep thought.
Ayisha Abraham was born in London sixteen years after Indian independence . She objectifies
the memories surrounding her own identity with conceptual manipulations , taking old photographs,
often showing members of her family, and bringing them into a deconstructive discourse by trim-
ming and reversals of black and white. Using a portrait of a group of soldiers from the colonial

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period that includes her grandfather, she focuses on the soldiers' boots, symbo ls of colonialism and
patriarchy, rendering them insubstantial (cat.no.5). In another photograph, with color added by
computer , she cuts off her father's image from the waist up, drawing the viewer's attention to her
critical theme , the symbolic cliche of the cute little girl holding a doll (cat.no.4) .
Abraham's new work made for this exhibition, Calling the Nation (cat.no.?), uses recorded
telephone messages to symbolize the state of communication and discommunication in a multi-
lingual nation. By this manipulation of an everyday medium of communication, she reveals the
objective reality behind the illusion of national identity. This is an effective example of the artist's
flexible strategies that leaves a vivid impression on the viewer.
Sheela Gowda makes drawings and installations with cow dung. This material is "a fuel and a
building material" that is closely related to everyday life in India, but at the same time it has religious
and ritual significance. Using cow dung as a painting material or compressing it into solid blocks,
she injects an inescapable metaphorical quality into her work and quite deliberately enters a territory
of semiotic conflict and ambiguity.
She maintains a consistent attitude in her recent work using thread. In fact, it may be seen as
moving in an even more radical direction. Like the cow dung, which had more than simple, pastoral
associations for her, the thread is not treated as an ordinary, everyday material. And Tell Him of My
Pain (cat.no.8) , shown in this exhibition, is made with two strands of rope 100 meters long woven
from red-dyed thread . It has a light, delicate appearance, but an intense sensibility is projected into
the space .
It is easy to read a feminist message in this work since red is the color of the spot of pigment
Indian women paint on their foreheads and thread symbolizes the work women do in the home.
Indeed , there are needles attached to individual pieces of thread at the end of the rope, making the
connection with sewing explicit. The pieces of thread are separated and spread out at the other end
of the rope like a woman 's long hair.
The ropes are suspended from the ceiling , twisted together in mid-air, and coiled on the floor.
The work expresses a sort of physical irritation or, if that is not the right way of putting it, a prickly
nervousness that recalls the work of Eva Hesse. It has an ambiguous effect, expressing the painful
side of sexuality while also being aggressively erotic. It reveals a deep abyss of sexuality that is
dangerous as well as attractive and cannot be reduced to a simple message.
The recent work of N.N . Rimzon often contains a sculpted male figure standing in a circle. The
simplified forms have an indigenous strength as well as a sublime symbolic character like Buddhist
images. However, Rimzon is not attempting to revive the possibilities of sculptural expression or
restore local traditions or religious imagery . He is a sculptor who is simply taking a critica l stance
against the present age , presenting the primal form of the human figure as an existential being
standing in the midst of an absurd world.
The work Rimzon is showing in this exhibition , Speaking Stones (cat.no.24), is another example
of a man in a circle. Stolidly squatting , he does not take a heroic pose as he faces the absurdity of
life. The area around him is covered with photographic prints, all news photographs of atrocities
and massacres that have occurred in India since independence. A sharply-pointed natural stone
is placed on top of each photograph like a weight. The man looks down with an expression of pain
and suffering. He is powerless to save society from these events. Still, there is a monumental quality
in the squatting posture of this figure, holding his ground in the midst of absurdity and taking upon
himself all the suffering it brings . He becomes a symbol of a sincere morality that opposes the evil
forces of our time. If this scene is regarded in mythic terms, the man who is bent down by these
troubles is an " existential hero." This allegory of absurdity and despair is the form taken by the
sculptor 's indomitable desire to grasp the entirety of the age.
Ravinder G. Reddy is showing three works, Under the Tree (cat.no .23) , the tallest of his works
to date at nearly four meters in height , Oevi (cat.no.21 ), a massive head, and Woman with Lotus
Flowers (cat.no .22) . They are all female figures with obvious religious meaning, brightly gilded with
gold leaf, and constructed with techniques that recall folk art.
Reddy began making sculpture in a Pop style in the 1980s, but even then he was subcon-
sciously attracted to the motif of female deities. His recent female figures , characterized by abun-
dant sensuality and a kitsch sensibility, are modeled in bold , extravagant forms that seem equally
inspired by religious iconography , folk art as well as Pop art. The style is both spiritual and vulga r,
and the forms have a stereotypical clarity that immediately stamps them on the viewer's mind.
The disconcert ing strength of form is Reddy 's style is most apparent in the face , combining the
huge eyes and broad nose of a deity with the almost frightening clarity of purpose, immense vitality,

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 and gentle compassion typical of Indian women. The hair ornaments, brilliant and gaudy as tropical
flowers, are especially remarkable. Everything is excessive , including the shiny golden surface of
the skin, and everything conforms to the constraints of a rigid style. As in the lavish festivals cele-
brated in this region, nothing in these images is arbitrary . The artist has a rare proclivity to act as a
bearer of myth who can bring history into the present, like an arbitrary whim that has been trans-
formed into an absolute requirement.
Sudarshan Shetty uses the avant-garde methods of the twentieth century ironically , making
installations that are habitats for unusual objects and playing clever games with viewers , delib-
erately provoking their "bad habit" of "interpreting" the work. Even after becoming aware of having
been caught in the trap of Shetty's humor , one is induced to stay by the sheer poetic richness of
his work.
Shetty assembles objects in a way that deliberately obscures their mutual context. For example ,
the Brahma bull that is the main figure in Home (cat.no .31), one of the works shown here, has a
baby clinging to its neck and it stands on one end of a rocking seesaw form with another baby on
the other side. Why are these babies here and what are they doing? The witty handling of these
images suggests that they cannot be explained as emanations from the subconscious. Everything
in this piece is left entirely ambiguous . At the same time , images with this degree of fascination could
not have been produced by cold calculation, and simply laughing at the quirkiness of the artist 's
mind is not an adequate response . The enigma is left floating in a neutral space, but its poetic mag-
netism does not permit us to be disinterested observers . It forces us to participate in an interpretive
operation without any conclusion. The artist presents objects as fetishes from a novel point of view
with a sophisticated urban sensibility.
These brief personal notes on the artists appearing in this exhibition are based only on the limited
knowledge I was able to gain during a short study trips. And while they are core figures in the cur-
rent scene, it is impossible to obtain an overall view of contemporary Indian art through the work of
only eight people. Their personal mythologies do, however, help show how the structure of modern
identity can be relativized by observing the chaotic situation of India and provide images that are
effective in criticizing contemporary society. While it may not longer be possible to participate in a
dream of community through shared mythology, the mythological imagination is not entirely devoid
of power. In a society that has lost its myths, people tend to become angry and intolerant toward
the other, and dangerous demagogic fantasies of group identity can run out of control. The myths
created by these isolated artists still have the power to heal the madness of the age.
(Translated by Stanley N. Anderson)

Notes
1. Walter Benjamin, " Theses on the Philosophy of History," 11/uminations
, Schocken Books, New York, 1969, p.255.
2. Ibid.

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