Sunday, June 6, 2004

'ART AND SOUL
Images of women
B.N. Goswamy

Seated princess: 18th century painting from Rajasthan

“Dismemberment or body-chopping in ads occurs more frequently for women than men. Women’s bodies, without heads, faces or feet lead us to believe that all that truly matters about woman lies between her neck and her knees.”

— (Cortese, 1999)

There is something decidedly energising about just being at the Indian Institute of Advanced Study in Shimla (IIAS). When I landed there less than two weeks back, a colloquium was on the cards: “Women in Media and Indian Culture”. Apart from the expected contingent of Fellows residing at the Institute, participating in the event was a large group of associates –teachers handpicked from universities and colleges across the country. For, the theme of the colloquium seemed to touch everyone: everyone had a view on the subject. Aspects of the theme were presented and commented upon with passion the whole day long. The two initiators of the colloquium at Shimla, both from Delhi, had obviously chosen the participants with care.

The manner in which women are represented in folk texts was spoken of; the cultural debates raised by Deepa Mehta’s Fire were drawn attention to as were gender perspectives through which images of Partition have come down. There was a great deal of talk about the ethics of gender advertisement across the cultures; the law that is all but a dead letter – the Indecent Representation of Women (Prohibition) Act, 1986 – was debated; the picture of women as portrayed in the electronic media today touched off much discussion. Understandably, in the midst of all this, images of cleavages and heaving bosoms, sunglasses tucked into skimpy bikinis and men ogling from below at women walking on a ramp, were flashed on the screen; the double entendre copy that accompanied them was subjected to close, angry scrutiny. But it was not all ire or outrage, or helpless hand-wringing. There were also attempts at understanding related phenomena.

Photograph of a “Hindoo Dancing Girl”: Jaipur, 19th century

Nothing gets settled in a day, and there are no closures. The need, however, is to engage with the issues that came up at the colloquium, at all levels, and with a sense of urgency. Speaking of myself, I have not been a part of the debate till now, but a little like “the black swan of trespass/on alien waters”, I have often remarked upon the changing image of women in Indian painting. And where, if anywhere, can the beginnings of what we see today be placed?

Portraits in texts

Historically, there is of course the persistent, durable, overarching figure of the nayika that keeps appearing in Indian art: young, attractive woman of supple frame, seen in a situation of love. The inspiration for rendering her comes clearly from literature, most of it patriarchal, where nayika-bheda or the classification of nayikas has been a recurring theme: the svakiya and the parakiya – she who belongs to oneself, and she whose heart is with another – ; the navodha and the praudha – she who is inexperienced in the ways of love, and she who is mature – ; the utka, “she who waits eagerly for her lover”; the abhisarika, “she who goes out in the middle of the night to keep a tryst”; the khandita, “she who is angered by his faithlessness”; the svadhinapatika, “she who has her lover completely under her control”; and the like.

But, with all the candour and the delight with which woman was rendered in art, the space she occupied was still, in some manner, private. Works that were made were not for public consumption, or display.

Things began to change, however, in the 19th century. Among other things, this is when the camera came in. And suddenly, images of women began to move from the private to the public domain; and the control over these images was suddenly in someone else’s, in this case the photographer’s, hand. At this point, in fact, one wonders if one is not at the very threshold of the world of ‘advertisement’. For, it is at this time that we have dancing girls having themselves photographed to display their charms. The quantities in which photographs and cartes d’visite started being produced at this time, take one completely by surprise, in fact, for not only studios run by Europeans but by small-town Indian photographers got into the act very quickly. A deluge of enticing images started swinging into view. A new technology had arrived, and become a significant agent of change.

Veils of chastity

This might be only one factor. And clearly it does not explain everything, certainly not the downslide that was to follow as far as the image of women goes. But does this at least tell us something about the way it all began?

Not long ago, a mid-19th century album of photographs featuring the talukdars of Oudh surfaced. On every page of the album, within oval mounts, were pasted small photographs of all the land-holders, each identified through hand-written inscriptions placed below, specifying names and estates. Among the talukdars were also a few women who must have come into inheritance in the absence of male claimants. In the spaces reserved for them, however, there were only names: no photographs.

And the inscribed labels ran something like this: “Qudsia begum, pardanashin”. (meaning: Qudsia Begum who stays behind the veil).