The nude who never and other fables

Medieval court painters muddied the waters further because each chose a regional representation for the gods that swarmed the pantheon to overflowing.

Help came from distant Europe where in the late 18th century, Aloys Senefelder improved upon the woodblock to an etched stone from Solnhofen that was the start of a printing process that was to become known as lithography.

The process soon found its way to India, somewhat crude still, but by then, the bourgeoisie market was already abuzz with what were known as 'German prints', copies of idyllic, but sensual, nudes in classical settings, that even though they cost a lot of money, were coveted collectibles for their formal baithaks.

With improvements in the efficiency of the speed press, even these were consigned to history, as printing now became cheaper, allowing for a wider distribution of theatre booklets, advertisements, maps and paper money.

Simultaneously, another industry was born "" the precursor to the poster industry of the 20th century "" by way of prints of kings, queens, saints, gods and 'virgins'. It was this that would have the most influence on popular art in India.

Even before the setting up of litho presses for rolling off oleographs in India, the imagery had entered the common consciousness by way of Western images that used perspective and depth differently from Indian artists.

As a result, when artists began working for the press, their commissions included a sensibility that was different from their own. The settings were classical, even colonial, and often urban. Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth, for example, was shown to shower her blessings to the background of so-called 19th century high-rise buildings lit up at night.

The child Krishna, instead of stealing laddoos or butter, was as likely to be depicted with English fruits such as apples and grapes. He was also a likely advertisement for Woodward's Gripe Water.

The new oeuvre of painting for the presses was given its greatest fillip by Raja Ravi Varma, scion of the royal family of Travancore, who has been variously labelled India's first modern painter, or greatest calendar artist, in the same breath.

It is certainly true that Ravi Varma used 'German prints' as the template for much of his work, and was able to paint his heroes, kings and queens, myths and fables, and gods and goddesses, with a sensuousness that was sanctioned in the name of religion.

Kali, after all, danced nude, and Krishna stole the gopis' clothes, providing the artist with the perfect opportunity to exploit female anatomy salaciously without fear of censure.

Western poses, and photographs of models, were often used to set Ravi Varma's own figures dramatically, providing a sense of voyeuristic pleasure for the viewer.

His attempts to copy female nudes was somewhat less successful, and when he asked his younger brother to procure him a prostitute to pose in the altogether, the experiment was to prove less than satisfying.

That the artist was less chaste when it came to the male body is apparent from his painting of Sage Vishvamitra, which has become as iconic in India as David has in the Western world.

But Raja Ravi Varma's most defining moment was the setting up of his own press, which he ran for ten years in Mumbai before selling it to a German, Fritz Schleicher, who made a great success of it.

Today, many of the great lithos of the period owe their origin to this press, and for a majority of the people, all such prints have come to be known as Ravi Varma prints, even those not painted by him, nor printed at his press.

The new imagery was compelling also because it provided a new language for the aristocracy who could now be depicted in studio-style portraits, down to the spaniel at their feet, in an echo of the way portrait painters worked in England.

Popular imagery also created a cult around beauty that took its inspiration from the portraiture of Western women. By the 1930s, beedi advertisements showed Mata Hari lookalikes in Indian garments, and even Radha-Krishna were not spared from a filmi clinch that could have been the poster for a Hollywood movie.

Saraswati's swan, for some reason, had been replaced by the more beautiful peacock, and Durga was shown astride an African lion instead of the more usual tiger.

More amusingly, the availability of cheaper printing and imagery gave birth to social comment, as in the case of the scandalous Tarakeshwar murder case in Kolkata, or resulted in a new iconography that was to provide a big boost to the freedom movement by making available prints of popular leaders of the time to the masses, as well as creating new imagery, such as the cult of Bharat Mata.

Even Rama, the slightly effeminate hero of the Ramayana, was given a makeover as a warrior, and the tradition was followed till recently when political leaders are placed alongside the gods, creating parallels that seek public sanction.

With the fireworks and matchsticks industry based in the town of Sivakasi relying heavily on these prints for its packaging, this streetside calendar art has more recently come to be referred to as Sivakasi art.

The authors' research and knowledge is commendable, and even at the price, the book makes a worthy addition to the library, particularly for collectors who are converts to what was referred to till recently in chi-chi style as kitsch art.

POPULAR INDIAN ART

Raja Ravi Varma and The Printed Gods of India

Erwin Neumayer and Christine Schelberger

Oxford University Press

Pages: 175

Price: Rs 2,500