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| Sunday, 29 June 2003 |
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From Narmada to Mahaweli Is there a tenuous connection between water and art? An unusual exhibition by a group of young artists from Bhopal, Madya Pradesh, India, opens at the Lionel Wendt Art Gallery on July 4th and runs till 7th. Inspired by the influences of tribal art, as well as modern concepts. the work of these 18 men and women seems to flow together with an inner unity well represented in the theme of a river, used by the writer of this article to describe their work. The young artists from Bhopal were "discovered" in Delhi by Sri Lankan artists Manoranjana Herath and Sanjeewa Liyanage who invited them to hold this exhibition under the auspices of their art group "Gangcey". It seems as though Bhopal, with its agro-economic set up is built centering around River Narmada. Even today various tribes in India live around these areas, says Manoranjana. Apart from the quality of their artistic production, Manoranjana and Sanjeewa were impressed by the discipline and spirit shown by them in their exhibitions, working as a team. This is the second exhibition organised by "Gangcey." by SIIRAJ SAXENA
The form of the river is not zigzag but a square, along the periphery lie scattered a few matchboxes and man-made objects. Shivani collects these tiny, small things of everyday use and weaves them, like Kabir, into a whole. Every object has its own resonance, its own identity. They shed their literal uses and in Shivani's hands find a new meaning. The collective identity of these mundane objects is very different from their original, individual identities and a new voice emanates from them, to create an enigmatic image.
Sandeep wants to capture this reflection with his camera. But illusion penetrates the camera too - it takes endless forms and possibilities. Sandeep chases these forms and reflections, as soon as he shoots one it transforms into yet another, a new one. Standing on the riverside, just watching her own reflection in the water does not satisfy Vibha. Her introduction is not just her face or her body but the manifestations of her mind. Her art raises questions - the tiny figures in her work are encompassed within the vastness of space, as if she can hear the flow of the river and understand its magnanimity. The transparent mist and the sparkling dewdrops on the calm surface of the river have gently taken shape in Avadhesh's work. He has managed to convey the peace of the morning as he waits for his unknown beloved, whom he has never seen, nor ever heard. He senses her closeness within the fine lines of his paper, and as the mist lifts Avadhesh disappears with her. Only his work remains - constant as each new morning.
Vishal circumnavigates this journey in his own way. He sees colours as the essence of flowers. He mixes these colours and absorbs them from the river and so tries to touch the depths of the water. As soon as he parts the water like colours, a new colour, emerges in the depths; he blends this colour with other colours to form new shades of depth. Along the river front lie scattered some small, round pebbles, some touch the water the others float on air. The almost spiritual spread or disarray contains many inexplicable paths within. I allow myself to enter these mysterious pebbles paths like the little ants and as they collect scattered grains of sugar I collect these forms. An ant's work is endless; I have no clue about mine. Even the gods are jealous of the rivers on the earth. Subhash carves the gods in wood to fulfil their desire to be on the earth. These gods are then offered up to the river so that they find salvation in their own ways on the earth. Nankusiya is like an ascetic with worry beads, but sheneither belongs in the tribal caves nor in the jungles, her chants on paper have the sound of both the caves and the jungles. They are in the form of pure coloured -red, blue, yellow - dots. It's as if these dots decorate the river and the water gets a festive hue. Various streams join a river, each has its own language like all of us and our dissimilarity is the only similarity within it all. Featured here is the work of some of the artists. |
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On seeing Mohan's works one senses that they come from water - it's as
if water spreads on paper to create an image. Amidst the flow of water one
can see traces of Mohan, but it is difficult to see any distinct image in
the depths of the flowing water. Bits of the painter's form are visible
amongst the waves, as if the waves don't like solid forms, they make their
own forms. The splash of blue on paper is the beginning of Mohan's river -
from here begins a wave, a journey.
Each of her forms is so delicately balanced that they can merge with
water easily and lose their existence, but once they are in water they
don't sink but go with the flow. How long their journey is or till where
it is, nobody knows, not even Shivani herself. The waters become still,
suddenly, but the river constantly flows and the dark depths are visible.
The flow moves onto Bhupendra's black canvasses. His canvasses are totally
black but the majesty of the black comes in the seeing. There are so many
shades and hues of the black while water has no colour and is formless.
So, is black the colour of the earth? Or the reflection of the blue sky?
Gently the still waters start to swirl, and these gentle whirlpools
play in the river like Smriti plays with cotton, paper and thread. Paper
plays with paper - Smriti's river is the paper as are the scattered
droplets of water; it's as if a single drop of water has splashed from the
flowing river and has taken a new form, a new colour, not unlike a leaf
that flutters away and is actually a butterfly. Smriti finds this natural
performance a metaphor to the play of life, and treads where it takes her,
like someone circumnavigating a river.
