Showing posts with label Manisha Bhattacharya. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Manisha Bhattacharya. Show all posts

Friday, 31 July 2009

Innovative...But is it Art?

                                    

Genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration
                                                                           -  Thomas Alva Edison


Art is today an experience that goes beyond painted canvases, sculpture and etchings; to include video, installation, ceramics and more. Artists are not confined to a single media. We see painters and potters working with steel and printmakers extending their repertoire to include fabric. In addition, intellectual boundaries that separated art from design are diminishing. However, this wide spectrum is also aiding confusion and frequently the question arises, is this art? 
                                                                                                     
Since art mirrors life, it will reflect the confusion that is part and parcel of contemporary living, but is that good enough? Is a chaotic existence reason to produce confused art? The role of the artist has changed with each decade and we are continually re-defining its criteria. Art as the manifestation of a creative human response to the environment is predominantly emerging as a comment on society, rather than a preoccupation with the self. In fact, much art that I have seen seems to preclude the self in its commentary, implying a deficient honesty in researching ideas which are therefore presented with lack of clarity.

Baptist Coelho
Baptist Coelho, recipient of the Art India, Promising artist of the year award 2009 presented some video works and installation at India Habitat Centre, where he reflected his position vis a vis the armed forces and within it the role of the soldier, which he mentioned in conversation, was to his mind “a really stupid thing.” His video entitled: ‘I was not born for the Three Point Contact’ focuses on the evolution of man from ape to Homo erectus. With each stage he wears an additional garment until he is clad for weathering snowy, mountainous terrain. This clothing is without markings that identify race or nationality. The man carries a pick-axe which Coelho informed is the most valuable tool for mountain climbers and soldiers patrolling the Siachen glacier.

He may be forgiven his naive comment about a soldier, being “a really stupid thing”; for battle as an essential element of life, from the personal level to that of nations is perhaps something we understand through the process of living, where the Bhagavad Gita has been accorded sanctity, precisely because it reflects the truth of confrontation as inevitable when power is abused. However, the video in question did not reveal anything more than a visual presentation of how man may have evolved. The layers could signify a veneer man hides behind; representing emotional protection adopted in the course of daily living, but the army reference was singularly absent.

Seema Kohli

Technology permits us present a point of view without the rigour of first having to master the craft of drawing and painting; tackling perspective and presentations of a verifiable, physical reality. With the digital camera and video, ‘reality’ can be recorded and presented with ease. However, what makes this ‘Art’ is how the artist locates himself, emotionally and intellectually, within the context; distilling personal angst to reflect an objective view, resonating with the truth of this predicament - universal to the human condition. If Coelho had focussed on finding himself in his idea, he may have found it more appropriate to appreciate the rigour, both physical and emotional that soldiers endure to protect our safety, allowing us the luxury of making art; rather than position it as irrelevant. The sentiment against warfare and the arduous situation of the soldier is well taken, but the video fails to evoke the idea as intended.
Remen Chopra
The gallery has seemingly transformed from a space of formal presentations to one of experimental ideas. Jindal Steel has been actively promoting the use of steel in art, inviting artists and designers to participate. In ‘Ashtanayika’, curated by Dr.Alka Pande we saw Manisha Bhattacharya and Trupti Patel meld steel with ceramics; Kanchan Chander re-create her trade-mark torsos in steel, and others attempt a dialogue with the medium. The delicacy of Manisha’s porcelain, steel-stemmed flowers was regrettably lost in a space that was too brightly lit to accommodate large-sized doors, books and lotus seats. Remen Chopra had been working with steel for about a year prior to this invitation and her deeper engagement and understanding of the medium is reflected in the resultant art-work, where she displayed sensitivity in handling the material that was largely absent elsewhere.
Pankaj and Nidhi
From painting canvases with delicate filigree work, Seema Kohli is open to exploring the cold hardness of steel, but neither the lavish-scaled book with water flowing through it, representing the Yajur Veda or the voluptuous contours of an ill-conceived lotus seat; bring out facets of a philosophy that has occupied Kohli for over a decade, nor render a fresh perspective on steel. While it is laudable that artists are willing to experiment and ‘The Stainless’ has become representative of such endeavour, experiments such as these, when presented as art, do not succeed.

Design and Art have long been separated by the notion that design is for the masses and art is unique and precious. Mekhala Bahl still holds this view, even though she works with textiles, which are integral to our daily living and its design vocabulary. Bahl is a sensitive artist who is however not making any overt social statements, she speaks of an inner state with clarity of its confusion and it is this honesty that endears. For her, working with textiles commenced as a convenience, allowing her to make large-scale prints and she tentatively explores its further potential in ‘The Geometry of Error’ [Gallery Espace].  Based in a studio atop a textile fabrication unit in Gurgaon, Mekhala is well placed to do this, but to understand the medium, I think it would be instructive to work with one’s own hands. This proximity with the medium, lends an intimacy which allows the fabric to reveals itself to you in ways that cannot be comprehended with the industrial distance of delegating in a factory environment. The work on paper is far more sensitive in its portrayal of her ideas than the mechanically quilted fabric.

Archana Hande

Mumbai based Archana Hande is also a print maker who has worked on Textiles [Nature Morte Annex – ‘All is fair in Magic White’]. Here she exhibits rebus like pictures made with the traditional method of block-printing on fabric. Hande attempts a satirical account of a dirty, over-populated Mumbai aspiring to become a global mega polis of the future, The works revolve around a story of three friends who initiate a ‘Clean Mumbai’ campaign, abandon it upon seeing a report on Dharavi to “help the government of India turn Mumbai into Shanghai one day” but end up launching a product which “makes the skin white.” Her commentary lacks authenticity, for Hande appears to disassociate herself from the women, when by virtue of her physical and cultural location; she is also part of the psyche that moulded them. In distancing rather than immersing herself in the complexity of the post-colonial predicament, she is unable to present an insightful view. The textile block prints are accompanied by a digital film. It is interesting to see this diversification in media but the Hande does not exhibit an affinity with textiles nor does the medium add a relevant dimension to her presentation.

In Vistaar II curated by Peter Nagy; Manisha Parekh, N. Pushpmala, Reena Kallat and others, create products where ‘art’ is invited to engage with ‘design’. Ideally design will emerge as an essence of the experience tabulated through art. Pushpmala however, does not allow scope for this but imprints/transfers a selection of photographs by printing them directly onto dinner plates, rather than extracting the essential aesthetic of her photographed experience and applying this as a design for fine dining. Reena Kallat’s table in two parts is arresting but her inability to exercise discretion with regard to the quantum and variety of its legs diminishes the calibre of the product designed. There are also too many lines etched upon the surface, detracting from its contour which is the most creative element.

Pankaj and Nidhi
To see a good marriage of art and design, one should look at the work of fashion designers show-cased at India fashion weeks. These designers are veterans of the commercial world that will not entertain such careless lapses. The artist in them is indulged, but the product is ruthlessly edited and the final result is a true engagement of art and design where the experience is examined with depth and its essence portrayed with finesse.
Gunjun Gupta’s concept of using the bicycle to create a chair is innovative. She began work on this with a design company in Amsterdam, where cycles are integral to contemporary urban life. Her design/product evolves from a very gawky, one-cycle-seat apparition to this rather sophisticated base, using multiple seats. She further incorporates the idea that cycles in parts of India are used to ferry masses of stuff, way beyond the norms of decency. She presents it too literally, making a statement that conforms to the present trend of incorporating concepts used in small town/rural India, which is getting a lot of attention abroad; but the disconnect between the aesthetics that govern the design of the base and that of the back-rest, make  the chairs look visually awkward.

Gunjan Gupta
Manisha Parekh’s attempt at making bean bags was disappointing. The numerous bags with faux leather ribbons and other similar lines and fronds extending randomly from a basically traditional bean bag, seemed an irrelevant endeavour. Parekh is an artist who has so far not taken part in the theatrics that surround the art-making world. Her earlier work has evolved forms using jute wrappings that would have been well suited to making unusual bean bags, but she says her product-partner was unable to give the requisite production support. This highlights issues that are ignored when such exhibitions are planned where it seems to be more about innovation at a peripheral level, rather than a considered project where all facilities are well thought out and provided for. The bringing together of art and design is not a new idea. It is indeed relevant towards forging a new and authentic vocabulary of Indian design, and needs to be carefully considered.

Chitrovanu Mazumdar
Material abundance and our dependence upon ‘things’ has possibly created an environment where we have more relationships with the things around us than people and therefore the objectification presented  in  ‘Re-claim/Re-cite/Re-cycle’, curated by Bhavna Kakar was pertinent. Prajjwal Choudhury generates interest with printed match boxes; simmering in a cauldron or passing inanely through a mechanical assembly line to represent the way we re-cycle icons and ideas. The irony and humour in Manujnath Kamath’s digital print of ‘Paneer Pizza’ was noted; but it was Chittrovanu Mazumdar’s ‘Ice-cream factory, Chill tubes and a Love Song’ that drew all ears. The idea of re-cycling refrigerator pipes to re-create them as a complex trumpet-like instrument was novel indeed, but the instrument was mute and sound played through massive speakers behind the ‘Chill tubes’, defeating the purpose of such an exercise. In this age of advanced technology it would require a simple engineering solution to get the re-constructed ‘Chill tubes’ to sing.  Lacking that one extra degree of perspiration the potential for excellence remained at the level of mediocre.

This attitude sums up much of what is being shown as art, where it is inspired but lacks the commitment; where the distinction between art and design is not diminishing but the integrity of creative representation is being replaced by the novelty of innovative ideas. Is this then a re-definition of Art - the change we’re in the process of initiating?



Tuesday, 26 September 2006

The Raku Mistress - A Portrait of Manisha Bhattacharya in Clay


Manisha Bhattacharya, affectionately named the ‘Raku’ mistress by her friends is a potter who goes beyond the restrictive qualities of pottery. She does not define herself merely as a potter, nor does she see herself as designer; but considers her work  more in the realm  as that of an artist-craftsman. She is not bound by pottery conventions even though her work does not necessarily break free of them either. A self-confessed ‘addict’ of working on the wheel, the vessel forms the basis of most of the objects she creates, but she treats the surface of each vessel like a canvas. Working primarily in black and white, she manipulates the smoke on her pots, like a painter paints with a brush.

Pottery is an ancient craft of the Indian subcontinent and archaeological evidence dates its practice as far back as 4000 BC. Writing on the industrial arts of India in 1880, with reference to the potter, Sir George Birdwood has commented, that: “He is, in truth, one of the most useful and respected members of the community, and in the happy religious organization of village life there is no man happier than the hereditary potter, or kumhar.”

He supplied the entire village community, as well as the traveller, with pitcher, cooking pans and jars for storing grains, spices and salt. In addition he also made bricks and tiles.
 
A potter in ancient India is said to have enjoyed the dignity of certain ceremonial and honorific offices and earned enough through his work to be classified as rich. Many religious and political revolutions came and went as did the Greeks, Scythian, Afghans, Mongols, Portuguese, Dutch, English, French and Dane, but the religious trade union villages remained virtually unaffected. The village potter sat at his wheel which was of the “simplest and rudest kind”, amid all these shocks and changes, “steadfast and inchangeable for 3,000 years”.
  
Mechanization, electricity and modern industrial practices, have provided the consumer with more durable products available off-the-shelf, to overtake the business which was once monopolized by the local potter. Development has eroded the pride of place craftsmen held in the social and industrial hierarchy and hand-crafted produce has ‘novel’ and ‘exotic’ connotations today, as opposed to being considered the necessity they once were. While the village potter whose work has thus been devalued, makes do with a frustrated and frugal existence; the studio potter is perhaps finding a way to combat and overcome the blows dealt to the tradition of hand-crafting. Studio pottery is relatively new to India: pioneered by Sardar Gurcharan Singh of Delhi Blue Pottery in the 1920’s, ceramic artists are slowly finding awareness and appreciation for their work through exhibitions and retailing through designer stores.

At one level, a potter is a potter so what sets apart a potter like Manisha Bhattacharya from the local kumhar? Is it her education? Is it her world exposure? Is it the challenge of our times? Can Manisha and other contemporary potters really provide an alternative to the local kumhar or has the tradition of pottery undergone such a sea of change that we cannot turn the wheel to recast that mould?

Manisha is aghast at the sheer audacity of the idea, that studio potters could ever replace the local kumhars. She says that other than the medium and the love and feel that they have for it, their paths do not even cross. Each caters for a completely different niche market, with its own sense of aesthetics, sensibilities and needs. Bengali by birth, brought up in a ‘liberal’ environ, in North Delhi, Manisha represents a generation that does not bear the hallmark trauma of partition; or the identity ridden angst of those who grew up with a desire to define Indian as being apart from the rest of the world, as a rebuttal to years of colonization. She is as much at ease in the Sunder bans as she is in New York City or elsewhere in the world. This is reflected in the vessels she creates, in the marks she makes and those she chooses to leave out of her canvas of clay.


She says she is lucky to be Bengali, for art was revered in the environment she grew up in and one of the games she and her siblings played was to identify whether a painting had been painted by Botticelli or Caravaggio etc. Her siblings are all involved in the arts in some form or another, even if it’s a second profession or hobby and these criteria all sum up to give her considerable moral support to invest precious energy in a field of art that is yet marginalized from the mainstream and may perhaps never quite be on par with painting, is the way that Bhattacharya perceives the work she does.


Being close to Mother Nature keeps her rooted. Working with clay, is like Vipassana for her; where with a little music – no words, with a single minded focus, she meditates as she kneads the clay. An essential and integral part of being a potter, it is perhaps the most boring aspect but leads to the making of the pot where Manisha comes into her element. Awakened to the power of her hand and her fingers; of how a push and a shove can completely alter or create a form in clay, there is a sense of fulfilment and completion, replete with a sense of being which is difficult to articulate. She is at home with clay. She revels in the turning of the wheel but she truly comes alive when she works with the glaze. Here Raku is the mistress.

Raku is essentially a traditional Japanese firing technique, which has intimate connections with the Japanese tea ceremonies. Tea masters found that the Zen principles of harmony, simplicity and restraint, which were integral to the tea ceremony, were best reflected in the style of pottery made by a Korean potter Chojiiro, whose parents had migrated to Japan. The characteristics of the Raku tea bowls as pioneered by Chojiiro , are their exclusive use of monochrome black or red glazes. 
 
Traditional Raku-wares are hand-formed rather than thrown on the wheel. Hand-forming increases the potential for modelling and allows the spirit of the artist to speak through the work with directness and intimacy. Through negation of movement, decoration and variation of form, Chojiiro went beyond individualistic expression to manifest an abstract spirituality, as works which represented a ‘monochromatic silence’. The term ‘Raku-yaki’ or Raku ware is derived from ‘Jurakudai’, which denotes architecture of the Momoyama period (late 16th century). 400 years later, the issues of spirituality and artistic consciousness as addressed by the pioneer of Raku are as valid and relevant as they were then, but Raku then and now has undergone a vast change.     

Although Raku has its antecedents in 16th century Japan, what Manisha does is called American Raku (even in Japan!). She has not had a ‘Japanese experience’ in Raku, so far, but what she has learned is not deemed by her to be second hand either. Its practice in the western world began when Bernard leach had his first encounter with Raku firing at a Raku party in Japan in 1911;later taken to great heights of popularity by Paul Soldner in the U.S. in the 1960’s. This practice however is not without its share of prejudice and controversy. Some believe that Americans cannot do Raku as the Emperor has not given them the permission to do so. But beyond the realm of philosophy, there is a technical difference. In Japan, after firing, the pots are dunked in water, while in the west; they are smoked in sawdust or other combustible material. The first employs oxidization and the other reduction. Manisha uses the latter, reducing her pots in sawdust.
 
Her Raku journey began in 1992 while working with Jane Hamlyn in U.K. It was the first time that she had seen Raku work of various artists and was deeply moved. Her present working in the black and white genre is done much along the lines of Dave Roberts’ technical style, with deeper influences by Wayne Higby, both artists whom she interacted with on this visit to the U.K. and whose work she admires immensely. But that was not where it all started. Manisha’s tryst with clay began 18 years ago
 
In the absence of institutional teaching in ceramics, most artists in India begin learning under practicing ceramic artists who also accept students. Manisha began her studies, in 1984 with Nirmala Patwardhan who in turn had trained under Bernard Leach and Ray Finch. Then in 1989 she went to study with Ray Meeker and Deborah Smith of California, who established the Golden Bridge Pottery in Pondicherry 25 years ago. She says that the two years she spent at Golden Bridge left a strong imprint “as one absorbed their Japanese influences, aesthetics and approach”. 
 
Her focus on Raku began in 1993. A yet uncharted style in India, she worked boldly: built a portable fibre kiln for herself and despite the missing guidance of a master, persisted by trial and error, taking inspiration from the works of those she admired, to evolve a style that we recognize unmistakably as the work of Manisha Bhattacharya. With her subtle expressions in black, white and grey she is in a league all of her own. 
 
For potters, their lineage and its roots can be traced as far back as 4000 BC. This, along with personal experience and exposure to practices that have influence in philosophy, style and technique from Japan to the United States, U.K. and Pondicherry, Manisha could well be over-awed or overwhelmed but contrarily, she has managed to bring together all those elements, including her own Bengaliness into being, to complement rather than dwarf her progress. It is difficult to identify where one starts and the other ends. Her work can hold its own anywhere in the world, for it speaks in a global voice. Manisha represents through her work, the contemporary artist whose roots are within the parameters of an ancient practice, but with appropriate references to and from the rest of the world. Unlike a painter, she has not cast aside the crafting tradition, what has changed is the way the work is perceived.
 
The work of Manisha Bhattacharya and other contemporary studio potters is no longer about providing for the essential needs of the community. Contrarily, their work is a luxury that few can afford. It straddles the realm between art and craft, between decoration and function. The entire tradition of pottery has come a long way away from the local kumhar who held position of pride in the local community, neither the studio potter nor the kumhar have the standing in society the traditional potter once did.
 
Manisha’s work uses a primarily ‘functional’ form, deliberately eliminating its ‘functional’ purpose to use the form as mere decoration. The inherent paradox is reflective of the predicament of a potter, whose inherited psyche is attuned to function, re-born in a world that perceives the mould as ornamental rather than functional. The understated, subtle and sophisticated artistic statement, which encompasses vast issues of debate with restraint and refinement of expression, is one of the most charming attributes of her work. The Japanese is influence evident. Even if the experience of making has not been tutored by a Japanese master; her aesthetic sensibility reflects the minimalist qualities embodied in the philosophy of Zen that deemed Raku appropriate for the ritual tea ceremonies in Japan. It is this that sets her apart from the otherwise ‘Indian’ influences with their predictable, emotionally led, exuberant and often overwhelmingly decorative qualities.