In a first, Indian and Asian antiques will be auctioned in New Delhi later this month.
That there’s a black economy around India’s illegitimate antique trade is well known, but when Osian’s head Neville Tuli reports it “in excess of Rs 5,000 crore” when that in the white economy “is not even equal to Rs 5 crore on paper”, you sit up and take notice. Tuli’s tirade — or maybe that should be concern — comes as a forerunner to an auction, India’s first really, of Indian and Asian antiquities (besides books and modern and contemporary art), that will take place on October 29, in New Delhi.
It’s a first sign that the Indian state may be loosening its stranglehold on antiquities. Though it hasn’t gone so far yet to allow legitimacy in antique trading, particularly in the unregistered space, it has waived the requirement for an import licence for bringing Indian antiques back into India — one step less in the bureaucracy and red-tape that makes up this trade.
“Our artistic and cultural treasures have slowly and constantly left India, smuggled out as part of one of the largest economies in the world,” he notes, caused by “legal ambiguity, outdated bureaucratic processes for antiquity registration, lack of awareness, neglect and disrespect…for our cultural heritage.” While it is up to the government to stem the process, the auction hopes at least in part to reverse it. A collection of antiquities from London, therefore, will make up the sale, including Indian and Persian miniatures, a rare copy of Daniells’ aquatints, and a 10th century sculpture from Java offered to buyers in India or overseas.
Indian art and antiquities are often in focus at international auctions outside the country and include sculptures, paintings and Islamic art and artefacts. That they have never before sold in India is a measure of its outdated and bureaucracy-riddled process which, instead of containing the treasures, has resulted in a vibrant grey market, a smuggling industry, and losses to the exchequer.
There has been a demand for some decades now for both legitimising and simplifying the trade in antiquities, not least because India needs “to create a vibrant and strong domestic market for our antiquities”. The Archaeological Survey of India finds itself stretched when it comes to guarding its treasures, organisations such as Intach have no teeth, and greed fuels the underground movement in this space. “If such a small market as modern art has over 1,000 galleries and dealers,” asks Tuli, “why do we not have more than a handful of top quality galleries for antiquities?”
There is no doubt that the auction will be watched closely — not just by collectors heaving a sigh of relief at the small opening they see in the trade, but also by legal authorities watching for bloopers: perhaps one reason Tuli is playing it safe and has yet to put the auction catalogue up on the Osian’s site, or even announce it there.
Meanwhile, the bets are on who will bid for the Durga — clearly not the state, which is starved for funds in the culture department — not just to see who wins it, but to see whether it vanquishes the Mahisasura-like stranglehold of the government. One way or another, you’ll know a fortnight from now.