Tag Archives: Art & Culture

This is seen clearly in one of the most interesting essays: Suryanandini Narain’s ‘Yatra Chitra/Parivar Chitra: Mrs Gupta’s Photographic Record of a Family amidst a Changing Nation’. Mrs Gupta lived in Brindavan with her husband, the Principal of a local college, and their three children—Guddu, Guddi and Dabloo. Her photo albums of her family’s holidays in the 1960s to historical places of interest show the historic/tourist sites plus the whole family, which, according to Narain, ‘frame Mrs Gupta’s aspirations of looking at the family and nation as part of the same continued trajectory…’.

Organized in six incisive chapters, the book draws on concepts and methods from new critical close reading, deconstruction, and semiotic as well as discourse analysis to generate important insights into Hindi cinema. The opening chapter titled ‘From “History” to Circus: Politics of Genre and Muslims’ Representation in Hindi Films’, examines the representation of Muslims in historical films, war narratives, and biopics of Urdu literary figures. It contrasts the inclusive vision once embodied in films such as Mughal-e-Azam (1960), with more recent works that employ history to promote a Hindutva-oriented perspective wherein Muslims are depicted as ‘the other’.

Studies of Hindi cinema’s depiction of India-Pakistan conflicts often engage acts of selective remembering and forgetting, reinforcing the dominant ideological narratives that shape national identity, otherness, and historical memories through hegemonic cinematic frames and frameworks. What distinguishes Bharat’s book, however, is its resistance to reduce cinematic narratives to simplistic binaries of ‘us’ versus ‘them’. Instead, she frames the affective entanglements and shared cultural imaginary that persist despite political partition.

What have been the decisive influences on Dutt’s style of filmmaking? Although he had produced eight films and acted in sixteen, his main claim to critical and popular appreciation is his directorial talent exhibited in eight of them (Baazi, Jaal, Baaz, Aar-Paar, Mr & Mrs 55, Sailaab, Pyaasa, and Kaagaz Ke Phool) made during 1951-59. The book does not throw much light on this aspect. What role did Hollywood or the French masters play?

Kapur might carp at my introduction for, as she tells Saloni Mathur, ‘I describe myself quite simply as critic and curator. “Art historian” is not a correct academic description for me, and I am not comfortable with the self-attribution of a theorist. Although the term “critic” seems now reduced to the blogger or the newspaper columnist, in the early 1960s, when I was a graduate student in New York, it was starkly different.

Photography happened rather late in Rai’s life. He had started as a qualified engineer and had dabbled in a couple of government jobs, but his restless mind was in search of something else. He constantly recalls his mother’s saying in Punjabi which means, ‘If we do not work dedicatedly, we will not achieve the heights of heaven.’ Encouragement by his elder brother S Paul who was an established photojournalist and the urge to do something different brought about the change Raghu Rai was looking for.

The Bengali intellectual displays this immense appetite for knowledge, and it does not matter where it came from. Whether it is Badal Sircar or Kunal Basu or Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, they are not afraid of looking far and wide to grasp, and even grab, ways of seeing and ways of writing. But this is overlaid on a deep Bengaliness. And that saves them in many instances from being blown off their feet.

The genesis of the book lies in Subramaniam’s stint as a teacher at CalArts, during which he felt the need for a ‘handy guide of music theory’ potentially useful to ‘a practical musician and a composer’ (p. 1). This led to the authors collaborating on a work initially titled Euphony, of which the book being reviewed here is an extensively revised edition. The authors’ backgrounds attest to their formidable grasp over three distinct forms of music, namely the Hindustani, Carnatic, and Western classical systems.

In the chapter ‘The Cry of the Oppressed’, the author recreates and reconstructs the scenes, the milieu and the ethos of Benegal’s films with great precision and felicity. The reader feels like watching a movie of the quintessential director, who indisputably occupies a unique position in the film industry of the country.

I dipped into the book with some hesitation, not because the book—designed also by Chaudhuri—is in any way intimidating or uninviting, but because its Foreword is written by her husband, Sanjeeb Chaudhuri—a choice that seems oddly hagiographic. Sanjeeb Chaudhuri is the chairman of IDFC First Bank and while banking, investment and art are bedfellows, especially in the first world, the reader must decide why his voice here is important.

From a diminutive rock smeared with vermillion, to logic-defying edifices cut out of sheer rock, to large complexes spread over hundreds of acres with the most spectacular architecture humans could ever envision, the Hindu temple can indeed be a bewildering space for the uninitiated and un-socialized.

The professional Carnatic musician’s path is highly templatized; countless have been through the grind. Start young, attend junior competitions, perform at AIR, and ensure that you make your way to the Music Academy performance slot. Subrahmanyan too traversed this well-trodden path, and spectacularly well at that, to join only a select few to receive the prestigious Sangeeta Kalanidhi (Oscar of Carnatic classical music) in 2015 when he was just 47 years!

India’s secret recipe for red blown glass, much sought after by medieval courts in Europe, is no longer known, and our current method of producing coloured glass was learnt from European manufacturers! In Firozabad, famed for its beautiful glassware in Akbar’s day, and still a major glass centre today, folklore has it that the famed Murano glass makers in Italy originally learnt their skills from Indian craftspeople, especially the art of mosaic and millefiori glass. Whether this is truth or legend, I don’t know.

Sometimes the amalgam worked well, as in the architecture of Lutyens Delhi; most times it was terrible! Luckily rural India and our temples and mosques remained more or less immune from this scourge.

As a dancer, I found the chapter on ‘The Commune and the Community’ most interesting. It served to make for an understanding of the various offerings that every Theyyam makes. Some start by sowing seeds, worshipping the Goddess, worshipping nature, ancestors, warriors, heroes, animals, snakes, etc. All the three stratospheres are included. Multifariousness is its hallmark. People of all faiths are devotees. It is a suspense of logic or scientific thought. It also goes beyond dogma and prescribed faith. The Devi can be ruthless in blaming the people for their misdoings. But is also a forgiving and prophetic Mother.

Mukherjee was nearing fifty when she cast the 12-ft high Ashoka at Kalinga. Sculpted in twenty-six parts, Mukherjee’s greatest worry at the time was to find a place to cast the complex work. Two-and-a-half decades later, she began work on another monumental sculpture, this time of the Buddha himself in whose teachings Ashoka had found his meaning of life. Having begun it in December 1996, the 14-ft high Buddha was conceived in sixty-six pieces, and she had cast most of it before she passed away in January 1998 of cardiac arrest.

Nor was it only the royal men who commissioned gardens—Shah Jahan’s daughter Roshanara had an elaborate space named after her, quite near what was to be known as the Grand Trunk Road. Throughout the book, the Liddles provide us with interesting nuggets of information on Mughal history. Roshanara was close to her brother Aurangzeb, supporting him when he usurped the throne from their father. She was rewarded with the then enormous sum of five lakh rupees and made the head of the palace.

The next paper by Sazi Dlamini also discusses the ngoma not just as music but as organized sounds because ritual and ceremonial use of ngoma involves dance, possession by spirit, healing practices and initiation rites. The performance with the ngoma lungundi drum is central to the identity of the Venda ancestry and this memory also speaks of resilience in the face of conquest and migration

In addition to lying on the Uttarapatha, Nalanda, says the author, is, ‘Geographically… a part of the Indo-Gangetic trough but some of its parts were connected with the Siwalik ranges in the northern part of Champaran district and partial fringes of the peninsular block in the south. Nalanda lies in the Magadha-Anga plain in the south Ganga region.’ It was also close to the ports of Champa and Pataliputra.

This secular and positive portrayal of Muslims in the 1950s and 1960s was largely due to the significant involvement of Muslims in the filmmaking industry during this period. While these portrayals often relied on certain stereotypes—such as the use of poetic Urdu, Lucknowi aristocracy, and elaborate costumes—the author argues that by the 1970s, the social genre introduced Muslim characters, especially women