Art for art's sake

With the increased coverage being given to contemporary art in India, it's time that art appreciation was taken seriously. But for a fistful of Indians, almost no one understands (or even pretends to understand) modern Indian art.

Which is why there's a sense of manipulation of the market when Tyeb Mehta's Kali fetches Rs 1 crore in the market.

"Who'd pay for that?" educated middle-class Indians ask in astonishment "" the painting is a tortured grimace of a face, starkly drawn in the style that makes many say, "My five-year-old can draw better than that."

Or, for that matter, why would most Indians find it hard to name more than one artist (M F Husain, for all his media gimmicks), in spite of the space they increasingly occupy in the mainstream press.

Why do they live on the fringes of our society, not so much celebrated as ignored?

Much of the fault lies within the artistic fraternity which has made itself infamous for being both enigmatic and obtuse. The more art is mystified, the less people want to have anything to do with it.

Which doesn't mean it should be turned into kitsch, but artists, gallerists and critics (by far the worst for use of tongue-twisting phrases that signify little) should make a greater effort to explain art and its vocabulary to an increasing number of people.

In fact, artists and art commentators are often to blame for ridiculing people whose sensibilities are not "developed" enough to meet their approval.

As a result, a caste system exists even among the select few who follow art moderately. Typically, these people may like artists whose works tend to be colourful, whose subjects are easier to understand, or those whose pictures are at least "pretty".

Instead, the art fraternity laughs at these people who want colour-coordinated canvases for their living rooms. But since it is these people who have to live with the art they buy, it's important to educate them to tell the difference between a gauche attempt at doing "touristy, folksy people" as opposed to the work of, say, B Prabha, Thota Vaikuntam, or Madhoor Kapur.

Why is it that only the "intellectualising" of art is taken seriously? Why must all art be burdened with current issues, or politics? Whatever happened to art for art's sake?

Accordingly, among some critics, there's a tendency to belittle the works of Sanjay Bhattacharya or Anjolie Ela Menon or Paresh Maity as being too decorative, too effete; on the other hand, the Bombay Progressives

(S H Raza, F N Souza, Krishen Khanna) or the narrative Baroda School (Bhupen Khakhar, Rekha Rodwittiya) passes muster; but to really be hip, you must "surrender your soul" to the abstractionists (Ram Kumar, V S Gaitonde) from the senior generation, or get into the questing mode of the young generation of "issue" artists (Baiju Parthan, Shibu Natesan).

While a process of learning and stimulation is necessary, it's equally important to steer clear of the cliches created by art lovers and vendors.

Who is to say that the folksy, Kerala-style mural art of A N Ramachandran deserves less credit for being true to part of a tradition than, say, liking Anjolie Ela Menon "for her colours"?

If Manjit Bawa is too much of a drawing room artist, should he be ridiculed for it, or praised for his use of colour, and for appealing to a large group of fringe art lovers who respond to his art, irrespective of its politics?

It's time the art community came out of its shell and did its bit to educate potential collectors about contemporary art in general, without aiming to pull its own members down.

There's more than enough wall space to hang a Chittrovanu Mazumdar next to a Jogen Chowdhury without violating either's credentials or aesthetics.