Renowned artist Keshav’s offering on the occasion of Janmashtami isn’t like any other ‘viewing’ of ‘art’. It offers a ‘glimpse’ of Krishna himself. At least for devotees, who for nearly 10 years, have tracked Keshav revelations of ‘the idea of Krishna’, day after day.
In Keshava’s work, meanings are layered underneath his study and interpretations of the sacred texts, including the Mahabharat and the Puaranas. The interaction with Keshav’s work is an act in “darshan” – the glimpse of the divine – because it is born out of Keshav’s own “darshan”, the spiritual gaze focused on the sacred, on Krishna; and his bhaktas. His series dedicated to Andal is evidence for the ages.
Darshan – the glance of the devotee and the glimpse of the sacred. For millennia, countless footsteps have taken the journey across Bharat, to “get” the “glimpse” of the sacred. At the sacred abode is the culminating point for the devotee and his pilgrimage. It is here the eye rests, sometimes, for a moment, for a glimpse of the ‘sacred’. The visual recollections in memory and sight last a lifetime, and are passed on to generations.
While temples are the “abode”, art becomes the potent medium for propelling the devotee to the idea of the “glimpse” – sometimes to the temples and the sacred texts. During these difficult times, this journey between the sacred texts, pilgrimage and the visual pursuit of the finest works of art dedicated to Krishna, needs to become cyclical.
Krishna himself is the master of the arts. Any sustained or new connection established with art dedicated to him by the devotee-artist opens and would open one to Krishna in the sacred texts, eventually.
Keshav has said in an interview: “After my decade-long reading of Srimad Bhagavatha and other writings, it is my understanding that Krishna is Ananda personified. As the Vedas proclaim : Ananda ithi brahmam. Ananda IS the ultimate truth, and this concept has been personified as Krishna. When I began reading the epics, little did I realise that I would be entering the area of symbols…”
On Krishna – The Poetry and Art of Keshav Raghavan at Sutra Journal
The head of the cow visually doubles up as the pot of butter. The cow is not concealed behind the pot, but stands at a meeting ground of the worldly and divine. Krishna as Chaturbhuj — while he is shown embracing a cow with two arms – the Govardhan resting on the third and the fourth culminating in the composure of a hasta mudra, becomes a representation of his many names. Keshava’s own universe of “Krishna for Today” is where the devotee witnesses the epithets for Krishna in Krishna Sahasranam emerging in figuration perspectives – sometimes more than one in a single work.
The tradition of creating art in devotion fuels preservation and continuity (A PAINTING FROM A SAHASRANAMA SERIES: KRISHNA WITH DEVOTEES, INDIA, RAJASTHAN, MEWAR, CIRCA 1690 | Christie’s (christies.com). The sheer ability of the 18th and 19th century to delve into the Sahasranamas and Jayadev’s poetry dedicated to Krishna for the exploration of ‘love’ and bhakti in art, was born out of devotion for Krishna. Their works, a response to Jayadev’s Geet Govind, begin to produce melodies.
The inlay of ragas in Geet Govind itself could be a potent inspiration for the pursuit of the musical. Nowhere else in the world would a painting based on the artist’s interpretations of sacred texts and devotional outlook, arouse a response in ragas, or would become identifiable ‘as’ a raga itself. It is possible – it has been possible – only on this sacred land.
The devotee-artist turns the landscape set in the lap of nature itself into (allow me to call it) ‘Krishnascape’ LORD KRISHNA LIFTS MOUNT GOVARDHAN, RAJASTHAN, NORTH INDIA, 19TH CENTURY | Christie’s (christies.com). The process itself become pilgrimage. It builds itself over the creative oeuvres of the known and unknown contributors to the diverse expressions in the Pahadi style. The tradition of the use of blue in the Pahadi depiction of Krishna’s body would depart on a journey, from the mountains to the modernists living in 21st century cities, for a deeper treatment. Renowned artist from West Bengal, Shuvaprasanna would become generous in the celebration of blue – for Krishna.
The mighty efforts of the 18th century artist would set the tone for a new quest. Two centuries later, Indic artists trained by the best academics in the arts, would put together a new vocabulary of symbols, metaphor and colour usage.
The twinning of form JAMINI ROY (1887-1972) , Untitled (Krishna and Balarama) | Christie’s (christies.com) in the depiction of Krishna and his brother Balrama in Jamini Roy’s work Untitled (Krishna and Balarama) gives an impression of mirror-reflection separated by a slender tree trunk in the middle. The figure at the right of the painting is blue and self explanatory when it comes to identification of Krishna. Giving the two figures a mirror-reflection effect is the ‘tribhanga’ – the body stance inherent in Odishi and other traditional Indian dance forms, in Roy’s work. The painting preserves the tribhanga’s coveted space and presence in temple-architecture aesthetic.
Profoundly traditional but subtly modern was Nandlal Bose. Did Bose’s understanding of Kurukshetra as depicted in art drive him to a pivotal role as an artist in India’s national movement? It’s difficult to say but Bose surely was committed to the preservation of the ‘Indian’ elements and narratives. The visualising of Krishna and Yashodha by Raja Ravi Varma would introduce the massive audience created by him in the journey through realism to the warm drapes of Yashodha’s own lap and a toddler Krishna in pearly skin and wearing only ornaments. The ornamentation gives an endearing ‘touch’ in sight to the nascent roundedness of his body, arms, ankles, waist, neck, ears and hair. For a moment, you want to extend your arms and embrace him, with Yashodha’s permission.
The interpretations and reinterpretations of symbols ‘belonging’ to Krishna, and ‘his’ iconography, leave a lasting imprint, merging with the awareness, ‘bhava’ and emotion inherent in the devotion for Krishna. MV Dhurandhar’s work Radha and Krishna (oil on canvas, 1915) would mark an evolution in the interpretations of space, as practised in the 18th century. Dhurandhar’s pursuit of realism ‘places’ Radha and Krishna in the geometrical play of light, shadows, and architecture. The glistening gold, green and yellows in the textured fabric worn by Radha and Krishna make the devotee’s eye alight – so rich are the overtures of tradition and time draped in these works.
Clearly, with the gentle dominance of Krishna’s relaxed but governing sitting stance, Dhurandhar brought to the fore a new visual language, weaving the traditional, religious, philosophical and poetic. With Raja Ravi Varma and Dhurandhar creating a massive audience for realism in the 20th century, the centuries old practice of Krishna representing Krishna in Indic art and his names, found a connecting-baton and a new path.
Almost a century later, flute, a recurrent motif in the works of Manjit Bawa, provides a horizontal anchor to his work. Though the musical instrument associated with Krishna is a leitmotif in works of several other artists, its use by Bawa was personal and spiritual. It is known that he learned to play the flute from renowned flautist Pandit Pannalal Ghosh and was known for his exploration of the Bhagavad Gita and Mahabharat. Bawa’s use of colour for the body of the human male figure holding the flute is imposing. His use of blues sways between the influence of white and red. It makes the colour-blends appear as if they were derived from the dusky, thick, clouds of the rainy season.
In another magnificent work Untitled (Krishna) AstaGuru – India’s Premium Auction House, Bawa depicts Krishna – the cowherd – in a relaxed stance. The ‘morpankh’ is set gorgeously in the middle of minimal headgear, his face rests between his two palms and the elbows resting not his bovine friend but an animal figure that resembles a lion. The divine human company seems to have humbled the lion’s ferocity, taming him down to bovine-gentleness and surrender to Krishna.
Thota Vaikhuntam’s leitmotif – the parrot – consigned to the celebration of the common man and woman, hops over to Krishna. This Krishna is not blue in the body but keeps the colour for his chest-drape.
In the traditional narratives dedicated to Krishna in Nathadwara, Mysore, Tanjore, Kerala and other cradles of traditional and folk art heritage, the artist’s depiction of Krishna is often considered an “offering” to the deity. For the bhakta, it is not a mere work of art, but part of his worship. Earlier this year, Bangalore-based artiste and cultural impresario Vijayalakshami Vijayakumar opened the entries for an art exhibition titled “Srishti, Stithi, Laya” (creation, sustenance, resolution) for the temple-dedicated festival Gudiya Sambhrama. Among the significant works exhibited were depictions of Krishna in Mysore, Tanjore, Kerala and other styles. Krishna’s depictions in the different ‘rupas’ and ‘leelas’ provided an unseen and unfelt perspective and dimension to the concept of ‘Srishti, Stithi, Laya’. Renowned artist and guru Dr. J Dundaraja’s rendition of Gopala is a jewel in the Indic body of art celebrating the Chaturbhuj (four arms – also reflects in and as one of his names).
For the artiste, the opportunity to create art based on their reading of the human and cosmic aspects embracing the lover, beloved, and loving Krishna lies in how to connect with Jayadeva’s epithets and descriptions of the deity. The expression of Krishna’s act of concealment and his intimacy with Radha, have the capacity to keep Indian artists busy for two more centuries — if they choose to explore the ‘performative’ in visual art. This is where a desired and increased proximity to the text of Geet Govind comes in.
The dramatic aspect of “madhurya” (honey-sweet aspect, has deeper meanings) in Jayadev’s work opens itself, layer after layer, over repeated reading. That these layers find expression in line and brushstrokes in the Pahadi style is only a matter of the artist’s bhakti and his urge to create the closest possible depiction to their textual interpretations – as devotees.
The play of the intimate is the canvas for the cosmic. In Geeta Govinda, Jayadev presents the ten manifestations of Jagadisha and suddenly. Vasudeva, Hari, Kesava, Jagadisha, Pitavasana, Vanamalin, Govinda, Dasavidharupa, (it is not a coincidence that depictions in the Pahadi style tend to reflect these names in the detailing, symbols, and embellishments). The reader’s journey through the names shifts to the deeper realm of the ten forms of “Jagadisha”.
Among the devotee’s offerings to Krishna are the epithets and names given to him. Names and epithets of Krishna in the Krishnasahasranama; the 108 names of Krishna, the Geet Govind, among other texts, have helped artists to mould the attributes and descriptions of Krishna in their colour, visual language and canvas. For centuries the known and unknown artists have evoked Krishna’s forms and manifestations, his beauty, his familial and emotional bonds, his clan, the cowherds, his conquests over demons, his cosmic power, strengths, among other aspects.
The celebration of the sacred texts and the names of Krishna during the 18th century define artistic courage. Circularity and the linear progression encompassing concepts of time, beings and space with Krishna in his central cosmic for in the 18th century work ‘Krishna Vishvarupa’ (Krishna Vishvarupa – Smithsonian’s National Museum of Asian Art) reveal a powerful arrangement of dimensions in the deity’s legs, feet, arms and heads. Weapon and weaponry spread across the upper half of the painting evoke the meanings, symbols and strengths Krishna is synonymous with.
Light plays with the dense rain-pregnant clouds in another 18th century work. (Krishna Holding Mount Govardhan.jpg – Wikimedia Commons) Scattered is the sight of Brajwasis who surround Krishna. A point of immense interest — lies in how the artiste from the hills has got the foliage, the boulders and the nature of soil in depiction, to define Govardhan – the ‘mountain’ in Braj.
Theatre and textual-interpretation are inseparable for the 18th century devotee-artist. He unravels interpretations drawn from Jayadeva’s Gita Govinda to explore the idea of continuity in scenes. The depiction of nature itself is the artist’s sincere rendition to Jayadeva’s poetry. Krishna is shown not once but twice in ‘Sakhi Persuades Radha to Meet Krishna’ Sakhi Persuades Radha to Meet Krishna, from a Gita Govinda (Song of the Cowherd) of Jayadeva | Cleveland Museum of Art (clevelandart.org). At the right of the painting, he is seen making a bed of flora in the dense forest for his meeting with his beloved Radha. Then, he shifts left, hiding behind foliage in the middle of the painting. He is trying to spy on Radha as she interacts with her ‘sakhi’.
Challenges in depicting Krishna the multi-tasker – could be several. But for the bhakta-artiste who travels between art in poetry and texts, and the poetry in art itself, during a lifetime, the act of breaking into spaces on the single surfaces to create drama and different scenes in the sequence, seems an act endearing and natural. This work is attributed to Purkhu – one of the illustrious representatives of generational dedication to the style, the body of work and heritage in the Pahadi style. Another work is peculiar for the use of the somewhat unwanted word ‘flirting’ in the title ‘Krishna Flirting with the Gopis, to Radha’s Sorrow Attributed to Purkhu | Krishna Flirting with the Gopis, to Radha’s Sorrow: Folio from a Gita Govinda Series | India (Kangra, Himachal Pradesh) | The Metropolitan Museum of Art (metmuseum.org) Its use of space to show the difference in Radha’s emotional strife and Krishna, carefully careless, engaged and interacting with the gopis.
Softly-curling boughs of trees enclose Radha in sort of a leafy refuge. Her head is lowered, perhaps under the weight of questions. The sakhi’s hand gestures seem defiant, bold, open and broad.
The Radha in this work could take some solace in the Radha of another painting. For that, she would require to travel from Kangra to Mandi. In this depiction (A PAINTING OF KRISHNA ADORNING RADHA WITH A TILAK, INDIA, PUNJAB HILLS, MANDI, CIRCA 1800 | Christie’s (christies.com), Radha holds her head high, in pride and assurance to receive the careful dash of tilak from her beloved Krishna. She herself cups the little bowl of pigment in her hand. The lush green meadow provides them a grounded and comfortable crouch. Krishna’s cheeks and lips light up with a self assuring smile and his eyes brim in love and a gaze fixed on her. His hand gently holds her chin and neck. An embrace binds them even when it is completely absent. Three pitchers arranged together – rest next to her. Maybe she just walked by, in her journey of eternal love.
The impact and importance of the sacred texts and their influence on artists painting in devotion for Krishna can be felt in the different worlds of interpretations – across different centuries. Stumbling upon this aspect over three episodical works centered on the theme of “Krishna swallowing fire” was a moment in emotion. The first is from the Philadelphia Museum of Art . (Krishna Swallows a Forest Fire and Saves the Villagers (philamuseum.org). The second is Krishna Swallows the Forest Fire, Folio from a Bhagavata Purana (History of God) series (Krishna Swallows the Forest Fire, Folio from a Bhagavata Purana (History of God) series | Harvard Art Museums). The geographical attribution in the first – an 18th century work – is Gujarat and the second, also an 18th century work, is Kashmir. The third is by Manjit Bawa (Manjit Bawa | Krishna eating the fire (c. 1980) | Artsy)
Manjit Bawa comes last in the chronology of contribution to the visual narrative centered on Krishna in this set. Yet, putting him in perspective will help understand how the Indic artist practised to preserve the continuity in connecting the sacred texts and art. All three works present an astoundingly varying demeanour of fire.
In the first, the intricate textures of the fire created by the brilliant unknown artist against the yellows are so ferocious that they give the sense of uncontrollable but conquered, bushy and sprawling-heat. Fire in the second work whirls in a swift circular flow of a smoky flame towards the mouth. In Bawa’s, the fire-maneuvers going into the triangular mouth of Krishna, are tapering, and long-triangular. Krishna’s body in the second work is in sturdy, warrior-like motion, the feet exerting some force into the direction as his hands leap for controlling and scooping the flame. Bawa manages to lend a triangular loop to his Krishna’s lower body stance with a foot-lift that indicates the deity’s centrality in the act and divine strengths. The work from Gujarat is magnificent in how it builds Krishna’s audience with a noted play of the minuteness of eyes – in the Brijwasi and cows – even as in stature and demeanor Krishna mingles into the bhakta. Standing out is Bawa’s painting of the cows. His spectacular command on bovine anatomy, the movement and the bulkiness of the bodies in this moment of cowherd-in-chief’s adventure, are reminders of his ‘vision’ and the depth in his craft.
Episodical nuances, new and newer, arise each time the magnificent, narration-ripe and dramatic use of symbols is seen and re-seen in these works. One day, you find Krishna in Braj’s rains, another, in Tamil Nadu’s Margazhi. The devotee-artist walks you to Krishna, Radha-Madhav and Krishna’s bhakts, like a Brajwasi. His art is very much the path and soil of the devotion-led pursuit and he is crucial to cultural preservation.
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