Bringing artist to the fore

Neelam Mansingh Chowdhry

In Manaku of Guler, Dr BN Goswamy pays a tribute to the golden age of 18th century Pahari art in an anthology packed with unusual and stimulating perceptions and poetic interventions. He has effortlessly succeeded in reconstructing dynasties of previously obscure artists — from identifying their names and provenance to according them a place in the pantheon of Indian art. This book only increases one's sense of wonder at such a wealth of talent, concentrated in one unprepossessing place over a relatively short period. 

It is also a brilliant attempt to bring alive the long-lost glory of a seemingly obscure Pahari painter whose works had mostly gone unnoticed. This, however, is somewhat surprising considering that his painting Hiranyagarbha — the cosmic egg, floating in opaque water — envisions the world of gods and demons littered with cosmic battles and earthly triumphs. Manaku has left behind a huge body of visually exciting art, revealing layers of meaning.

Forty-five years ago, when I first met Dr Goswamy, his qualities of curiosity, openness, and of being a quiet listener have multiplied manifold and with a language that has the underlying flavour of fresh spring water. This combination is more than apparent in this book as is the delightful combination of palpable emotions and dazzling poetics.

 To those who may imagine, a scholar of Goswamy's genius as some sort of a cerebral monk, dedicated to refined austerity — though that too is accurate but not absolutely — needs to read this quote from his book, The Spirit of Indian Painting. Every word is to be savoured and has a propulsive rhythm that delights: “We are dealing with a world of silence in which one has to strain very hard to pick up whispers from the past … a layered world that does not reveal all its treasures immediately. But if we strain hard, it is still possible to feel the breath of those times — even if lightly — upon our skin, and so gain access to the highest state of pure aesthetic pleasure, to experience what Indian aesthetic theory describes as romaharshana, meaning literally: he hair on my body has become happy.”

This book on the life and work of another great painter from a small hill state centres on Manaku, the older brother of the widely celebrated painter Nainsukh, younger son of the painter Pandit Seu, and who like his older brother Manaku, was an important practitioner of Pahari paintings.

It must not have been easy for Goswamy to write about an artist from the 18th century, researching a wealth of material from scanty sources, during his travels to Himachal Pradesh. He has laboriously reconstructed the arcane world of Pahari paintings by becoming part sleuth, part poet and part researcher.  

 Assiduously he gathered fascinating tangible and intangible materials and piecing it all together through intuition and "pleasures of memory" to build a fascinating and riveting edifice. Nothing in the book seems forced or self conscious; what has emerged emanates from real search by a dedicated seeker.

On reading the book you feel magically transported to the artist's studio, seeing him in your 'mind's eye' making a brush from a squirrel's tail, grinding pigments from flowers and saffron. Evocative descriptions take you through a journey of smells and sounds and the images these invoke enthral one captivatingly.

In an article, Pahari Paintings, published in the art magazine Marg in 1968, Goswamy had argued that differences in style in Pahari paintings could best be comprehended if linked to family histories, rather than to patrons. This is path-breaking research, as previously there is no evidence of documenting painters' lives; it was simply presumed that traditional art was anonymous, simply because it was collaborative. Ownership was discounted.

However, Goswamy's deep conviction made him pursue with unflinching belief that behind the startlingly imaginative works, exists an artist with a vision asserting artistic affiliations and personal proclivities. Through his research, Goswamy has painstakingly lifted the veil of anonymity from the artist, giving him his rightful dignity and honour and accomplishment.

The act of reconstructing Makaku's life began with entries that Goswamy unearthed from the bahis or genealogy registers maintained by pandas or priests in the holy city of Hardwar. For it was during a visit there that Manaku registered his name and profession as tarkhan or carpenter rather than the fancier appellation, painter.

Goswamy also studied inscriptions written on the obverse of miniature paintings, revealing family members sharing stylistic similarities instead of categorising the work on the basis of patronage, Goswamy clearly states 'that it was not where a particular painting was produced, or who paid the bills, but which artist, or family of artists, was holding the brush'.