In a country where art is typically approached with a preset notion of being obscure and remote, India’s indigenous arts and crafts remain veiled in mystery. It is easy to recognise art categorised as “folk” and “tribal”—stylised figures, flat renderings, repetitive motifs, and themes immersed in ritual, religion and festivity dominate, although they do not necessarily define all there is to them. Oddly, they have surfaced to the fore only recently, despite having been around for centuries.
Read MoreLooking back, these indigenous arts have evolved in their social and cultural roles. The most well-known of these arts are Warli, Gond, Saura, Madhubani or Mithila, Bengal scrolls, Kalighat pats…the list goes on. They would be usually undertaken by one community, so they assumed a location or tribe-based identity. Traditionally, communities worked within limitations, using only what was available at the time. One can tell how laborious and time-consuming they are from their intricate details. Until the 20th century, they were restricted to very specific occasions, usually religious and celebratory, and were infused with a unique significance.
These art forms were pushed to the background when tribes came under the expanding British empire. In the 18th and 19th centuries, Company School paintings were in. The British valued perspective and a semblance to reality, and artists had to cater to their demands. Some attempted merging age-old traditions with new norms. While Western academicism was one reason they diminished, the Raj directed communities to more profitable professions, and those who remained committed to their tradition could not keep up with advancements in technology. As an example, lithographs of Kalighat pats and Tanjore paintings flooded the markets from Germany, easily reproducing what would take days—perhaps weeks—to create. Like any trend that witnesses a surge in popularity, a gradual decline and then a balancing out, competition from these newer sources did not entirely oust the indigenous arts. This shouldn’t be mistaken for a passive adaptation of folk and tribal arts to changing times; numerous political factors contributed to their popularisation and with time, they adapted to more contemporary needs.
In the 20th century, a febrile, politicised environment pervaded the subcontinent as nationalist sentiments simmered. Abanindranath Tagore’s revivalist Bengal School countered Western academicism, and two parallel movements dominated the art scene. In the midst of this divide, some modern artists, cornered with questions pertaining to identity and seeking out a different idiom, turned to their roots to imbibe aspects from indigenous arts. Jamini Roy, for instance, sought inspiration in Kalighat pats to develop his idiom. Jagdish Swaminathan used primitive symbols to imbue meaning to his oeuvre and promoted folk and tribal art by establishing the Roopankar Museum of Arts at Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh. Efforts by art historians and the government have helped push the indigenous arts to prominence, but more importantly, artists themselves have painstakingly modified a centuries-old ethos to contemporary demand. Looking at works made in indigenous sensibilities today, one can easily relate to the themes portrayed.
Yet, efforts and a heightened conscience alone are not enough to make an art form more accessible. Artists need to reach out to an audience capable of appreciating the cultural value of their works, and audiences must reciprocate. This section features folk and tribal paintings rooted in the traditions of India.
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