.jpg)
Come June, and institutions in the national capital allow us to traverse the globe and time-travel, all within four walls. This month, art exhibitions in Delhi invite attendees to learn about a desi Modernist movement, to experience the “songlines” of Australia, and to contemplate the bittersweet state of their childhood memories and homes.
Abanindranath Tagore, Jamini Roy, Raja Ravi Varma, FN Souza—these are the names that are typically uttered in conversations about Indian modernist art. But there exists a lesser-known chapter from this era: Far from the mainstream, a modernist movement took root in the country’s south, steeped as it was in local folklore, history and architecture. With practitioners like DP Roy Chowdhury, KCS Panicker, and S Dhanapal, the Madras Art Movement of the 20th century sought authenticity and moved away from existing colonial frameworks. ‘Madras Modern’, the DAG’s examination of its inception and bloom, also spotlights the movement’s female artists. “In the attention that was paid to the dominant art centres elsewhere in India, Madras remained a sideshow even though its contribution has been no less significant than the Bengal School or the Progressives,” says the gallery’s MD and CEO, Ashish Anand, adding that its artists deserve greater national presence.
A standout collaboration between the KNMA and the Australian High Commission offers art and history aficionados a chance to experience an Aboriginal-led exhibition about “songlines”—pathways of ancient wisdom charted across Australia. A pop-up experience based on a larger exhibition, it is an artistic imagining of the story of the Seven Sisters, who are believed to have been chased across terrains by a powerful sorcerer. Shapeshifting, deception, constellations—all find a place in this indigenous knowledge, which is said to be foundational to Australia as we know it today. This show, the result of over a hundred artists’ collective labour, takes an immersive, multimedia approach: through installations mounted on ceilings, inviting the attendee to lie down and gaze at them, and dazzling patterns projected on their bodies, making them one with the artworks.
On an ordinary day, living amid urban sprawl can seem like a drab experience. During festivals or weddings, however, the very sight of apartment buildings bedecked in string lights and lamps instantly evokes warmth and joy. In ‘Night With Thousand Lights’, a tender and minimalist work, Ravina Bhaisa depicts exactly this nighttime festive image. Bhaisa’s watercolour paintings are part of a group show titled ‘Kodachrome Memories’, which is both—a reflection of personal histories, as well as the shared experiences of decaying childhood homes and changing hometowns. This theme is ably encapsulated in the series ‘Ghar Me Khet Hona’ by Shubham Kumar, where he draws upon memories of his Gaya-based family dwelling and the farms that surrounded it. “It delves into the depths of nostalgia, revealing that it extends beyond mere family recollections to uncover what is concealed, adjacent and in the backdrop,” Kumar says of the series.
To those who are new to art appreciation, the prospect of walking into one of the art exhibitions in Delhi and engaging with abstract, layered works can seem daunting. What if the gallery could be re-imagined as a more comforting and restful space, like a reading nook? At its D-53 Defence Colony viewing room, the Vadehra Art Gallery has done exactly this; here, you’ll find yourself in the company of art books, prompts to guide you as you explore what is on display, and reading lists recommended by the artists. Titled People, Places, Things, this expansive group show features an enviable list of greats, from Balkrishna Doshi and Nalini Malani, to MF Husain and Sudhir Patwardhan. An inquiry into the multidimensionality of our worlds, the show “explores a philosophy of lived spaces as a site of ongoing contact, communication and change”. After you take in ‘Behula These Days’, a stirring series by Ashfika Rahman on gender and violence in Bangladesh, make yourself comfortable at ‘Bhupen’s Bench’—created by Atul Dodiya, in honour of his beloved friend Bhupen Khakhar.
The eyes—unblinking, empty, stacked one on top of the other—in Nidhi Agarwal’s work stare back at the viewer. Agarwal is known for an aggressive, hyper-chromatic style which cannot simply be classified as abstract. The caricature-ish chaos of her paintings is matched by her choice to employ large canvases; thus she—and the viewer—contend physically with the contrasts of beauty and horror, pleasure and pain that she depicts in works like ‘Sleuths of the Sonar Quila’. This sense of awe and spectacle is at the heart of the group show Battle Royale, where Agarwal features alongside Basist Kumar, Neeraj Patel and Ayesha Singh. The power and prestige which defines Battle Royale’s curatorial framework and exhibition design also comes through in Kumar’s sparse landscapes, painted in oil.