Indian Arcadia

Krsna Sporting with the Gopis Kishanghar, c. 1820I don’t know much about Indian Miniatures, but – as they say – I do know what I like! I have always been fascinated by the extraordinary detail in these miniature artworks, which I have also admired in English miniatures of the sixteenth century.

During my first year of art college I saw an exhibition of the Sultan Suleiman Collection at the National Gallery of Victoria. (My friend Rapunzel remembered the name of the exhibition, but I am not sure why the collection was named after the Emperor of the Ottoman Empire.)

Malasri Ragini, Ragamala – Malwa, Central India, c.1640

I was in awe of the incredible detail and the extraordinary patience it must have taken on behalf of the artists to create these pictures. On some of them every leaf on every tree was painted individually, and the equivalent of yards and yards of fabric were embroidered in paint. The colours are always so joyous and lively too – they sparkle like jewels, bedecked in gilt – some in fact incorporated pure beaten gold and precious gems. 

… the equivalent of yards and yards of fabric were embroidered in paint

Lady with deer

The art of Indian Miniature paintings can be traced back to the 6th or 7th century AD, evolving and influenced by other cultures over time. Unlike Western miniatures, Indian artists employed multiple perspectives in order to convey the idea that reality existed beyond a single vantage point. (Similarly the Egyptians paid little attention to realistic perspective, and showed people or objects from their most recognisable angle.)

Indian Miniature artists worked on paper, ivory panels, wooden tablets, leather, marble, cloth and walls, using pigments made from minerals and vegetables. Pieces were finished with burnishing to achieve an even, enamel-like lustre. 

Here are some gorgeous pictures painted in my favourite warm, golden tones – landscapes of Arcadia. 

Read more about the history of Indian Miniatures here. Click on images for sources.

Man with falcon, Akbar period, 1600–1605Lady holding a lotus

(Top, left) Raga Kalinga, (top, right) Raga Panchama, (above left) Ragini Gunakali, (above, right) Raga Lalita.

A World in Colour

Machine Worker in Summer, 1937Once upon a time Surrealism in painting might have shocked or surprised viewers, but at this end of history I find surrealism in photography far more amusing. One of the pioneers of colour photography, Madame Yevonde (born Edith Cumber in 1893) used Vivex colour in 1932 – seven years before Norman Parkinson’s first colour photographs appeared in fashion magazines.

At the time she began to experiment with this new medium, colour photography was considered crass and in poor taste. Madame Yevonde however decided to take her portrait photography into the realm of art and create fantastical images inspired by surrealism, and the vivid colour produced by the expensive Vivex process. Society was quickly won over by her enthusiasm and the ‘super-saturated absurdity’ of her portraits where models sat amongst strange theatrical props.

The Honorable Mrs Bryan Guinness as VenusHere is a small collection of her wonderful portraits – like Cecil Beaton on steroids. Sadly, World War II turned Madame Yevonde’s world black and white again, the world had changed and her market had vanished.

For more images visit this gallery at The Independent. 

Article from an unknown British magazine. Click for larger images and to read.

Visual Poetry

Now in slightly old news I’d like to announce that my ‘random poems’ have been featured in an online magazine, Tip of the Knife, in their most recent issue. The magazine celebrates visual poetry in all its forms, and it was an honour to be asked to contribute.

What is visual poetry? It is a poetry and art hybrid in which words or letterforms are used to create an image. Both words and image combine to create meaning, that may or may not make sense in the common parlance of poetry. It is related to concrete poetry, and was heavily influenced by Fluxus. It is also known as ‘vispo’ – a horrible abbreviation, ironically unpoetic, that you will never read here again.

My own influence came from the Dadaists, although I had to do a project on concrete poetry when I was in my first year of art college. I recall creating an image using strips of words cut from magazines, but that piece has long gone to the recycling plant and been turned into cardboard boxes or something.

Check out Issue 12 of Tip of the Knife here. You can also view a gallery of my random poems. I’ve been working for the past few months on a new series that is quite different stylistically, so keep your eyes peeled for that! 

So Not A Clinging Vine

My Romantic Adventures #56, June 1955I was quite delighted to come home tonight and for a nice change instead of bills in my letterbox, I found a billet from a friend. I stood in the driveway and laughed aloud as I read it: There’s nothing to discuss! What you need for a wife is a clinging vine - - so you’d better look elsewhere!

Sapphire was in Sydney for a flying visit and thought of me when she saw these vintage postcards. “There were so many to choose from”, she said, “including swamp monsters holding damsels in distress!” Delightful indeed.

This Above All

I’ve told this tale to many of my friends. When I was 15 or 16 one of my high school teachers wrote this quote from Shakespeare on the blackboard: This above all, to thine own self be true. Polonius says it to his son Laertes in Hamlet. Then and there I thought it was a wonderful quotation, and an even greater exhortation on how to live one’s life.

It’s not always easy to be true to oneself though – there are too many people to please, and too many pushing and pulling in different directions. But it has always been something to inspire and motivate me to be self-aware and stay honest, even if I am entirely frank only with myself. But that’s just between me and my journal … which has an electronic password.