Though perceptibly different, there's more that binds these two together than is at first apparent. Even though modern art in India is roughly a hundred years old and fashion relatively juvenile at ten-odd years, both have an appeal that's restricted to a niche following. If we take fashion to mean couture, then its access is as limited, if not more, than those who collect contemporary art. The creativity and the forces that influence both art and couture are often similar""war, for example, will have a bearing on both, as will the tendency to reflect, for instance, street kitsch. Yet, both books under review couldn't be more different. |
Amrita Jhaveri's attempt to provide a "guide" to 101 artists spanning four generations, from the 1940s on, could hardly have been bettered. Despite the petty bickerings and provocations that could mar her selection of artists for this slim volume, it must be said that the research into each painter's works, shorn of inexplicable jargon, is comprehensive and eminently readable. |
Jhaveri divides her selection into two categories""35 masters or, at least, bestsellers; and 66 who are among the best of the rest. The categorisation itself is debatable, but the attempt is less to be authoritarian than to make knowledge about art accessible to those on the periphery of the art world. This is where Jhaveri scores for the text is well-informed. |
The illustrations that accompany each artist's professional biography are as they would be in a catalogue, with sizes, materials (and methods) used, and the date of the painting. |
Importantly, a guide to prices at the end, even though only indicative, is an important attempt to demystify the price barrier often imposed by galleries and collectors. |
By contrast, Hindol Sengupta's overview of Indian fashion designers is less-informed, facetious, and often merely gossipy. Granted, the fashion industry and its cheerleaders are the creation of the page three phenomenon; even so, Sengupta does them disservice. His choice of 32 designers, three design stores and a design college provide ample scope to uncover a fascinating journey that, in the main, is no more than a decade old. |
Yet, Sengupta's major hurdle is archival. The text is banal, but even that would be okay if he had thought fit to date his designers' collections. Of the hundreds of images in the book, not one is captioned. As a result, the reader learns little about the materials used, the work/cut/silhouette shown, the show where the garment was first viewed, or even the price at which it was retailed. |
Like the art industry, fashion too functions in a black economy, and rationalising it would have served readers and the industry well. But what Sengupta overlooks is that even fashion catalogues provide comprehensive references for images. |
What Indian Fashion serves up instead is a print version of F(ashion) TV, complete with ennui-inducing images. Each couturist's tardy fashion biography (more about them than their clothes) is followed by a Q&A that would have been entertaining in a fashion or women's magazine, but is irritating at best in a book (Ultimate style moment? "Yet to come," answers JJ Valaya; What is fashion? "No meaning," responds Manish Arora). |
Jhaveri, in her introduction, hopes 101 will "serve as a friendly guide to many readers""an entertaining, versatile and practical companion". It does. Sengupta too, in his introduction, says Indian Fashion is "designed to give an overview of the industry". Does it? Here's his opening: "When man discovered knowledge, he also discovered clothes. Then, he was forced to call it sin." |
Jhaveri could do no better than bring out a companion on another 100 (or 101) artists. Sengupta, meanwhile, might be better served with a primer on the English language. |
A Guide to 101 Modern & Contemporary Indian Artists |
Amrita Jhaveri India Book House Pages: 191 |
Indian Fashion |
Hindol Sengupta Pearson Power Price: Rs 1,999; 256 pages |