There is no sentimental idealism to art-‘interventionist’ and curator Pooja Singhal’s work. The first thing she is clear about, and stresses often, is that the tone and quality of space is so important to her exhibits, that she often finds herself commissioning pieces accordingly.
“A piece in isolation can be beautiful, but if it is put in the wrong space, it will be ugly,” she says. This can be oddly disconcerting, especially coming from Singhal, who has been known over the past six-odd years as doing commendable work in reviving the traditional art of pichvai paintings.
But taking in the pieces at the fourth and latest exhibit of her art platform Pichvai Tradition and Beyond — the last one was at the industrial spaces of Famous Studios in Mumbai last year — you can see how she has a point.
Pichvai, which literally means a ‘textile hanging’ (vai) at the ‘back’ (picch), originated as temple-art in Nathdwara, Rajasthan. In the famed Shrinath ji temple there, the god is a child-manifestation of Krishna, and these paintings have traditionally been hung on the walls behind the main idol in the sanctum. Made on cloth, they mostly depict scenes from his life, and hold religious significance for followers of Vaishnavaite sects of Hinduism, like the Pushtimargis.
A pastel interpretation of the cool-coloured pichvais with lotuses
However, the temple takes Shrinath ji’s form, as a 7-year-old child, very seriously. For instance, the pichvais that hang behind him in the summer months are picked out carefully to avoid warm colour-schemes. It is made sure that the little child is kept cool and comfortable amid grey canvases adorned with light pink lotuses and watery-green leaves.
It is this inherent flexibility within traditional art, even temple forms, that Singhal has identified as commercially viable. Currently, her atelier works with over 50 artists, and various tradespeople of the community. The 300-odd pieces she’s brought in for this show still are made on cloth (a special blend of cotton and silk) and stone colours. But they reflect the three ways in which she has driven a re-interpretation of the artform. Firstly, she’s played with scale, getting pichvai done as miniatures. This caters to the city-based art collector, bringing also an intensity to the form that already has a detailed frame-within-frame style in borders. Secondly, she has brought in the Deccan pichvai form — many artists migrated southwards during Mughal rule, picking up foiling techniques from there, she mentions — which, with their deep indigoes, greys, and blacks, contrast with the vibrancy of the Nathdwara and Kota-style of the art.
A symmertrical graphic rendering of the popular pichvai cow motif
Finally, she’s brought in various contemporary touches: In some frames, artists have been encouraged to deconstruct motifs typical to pichvai — like lotuses and leaves, gopis, and cows — into stand-alone minimalist frames with an empty background or a maximalist black-and-white chevron backdrop; in others, following a sharp graphic sensibility are symmetrical repetitions of the cow, very commonly found in a pichvai frame.
After an initial struggle to understand what they were to do, the artists, who the atelier hasn’t brought to the forefront, have become proficient. Passed on father-to-son, their education has unfortunately not come with an understanding of the market, Singhal says, as she adjusts a frame that’s propped on a ledge and not hung, as pichvais or any framed pieces of art, usually are.
This is a very intentional interior-design dimension to the show. The aim is to further push for a secular, designed-based approach to temple-art revival. “Traditional art like this can belong in all sorts of homes, even contemporary and minimal ones,” she says. Here, there’s a pichvai for every space.
Pichvai Tradition & Beyond, on till Sunday, 5th May 2019, Bikaner House, New Delhi
