Narrow outlook

Yes. That is truly how Kutchery Lane opens into the North Mada Street of the Kapaleeswarar Temple. But as one gets out from this narrowest of lanes, all it takes to get into the temple is to cross the street. That small gopuram is over a door to the temple's administrative office. That door does not open for you or me, it is quite possibly an entrance for only the most privileged of the temple's staff and/or devotees.

For a long while, that was the entrance through with the temple's designated devadasi, would enter the temple. She was an integral part of the temple's rituals, and was accorded a high status in the temple's hierarchy. But over the years, the position of the devadasi was stigmatised, and there were likely enough people within the temple administration who were politicking to cut the devadasis down to size.

It was not just at this temple; all over the Madras Presidency and across India, the desire to abolish the devadasi system led to the passage of legislation such as the Madras Devadasis (Prevention of Dedication) Act in 1947. With that law in their hands, the puritan faction of the temple administrators walked out through the office door, into the Kutchery Lane, to the ex-officio residence of the last of Kapaleeswar devadasis and unceremoniously threw her out into the street. And so ended a tradition, one that gave much of today's Bharatanatyam dance, in obscurity and penury. Would it have been any different had the passage been much broader?

Artists and subject

One of the attractions at the Mylapore Festival was the chance to get your portrait sketched. That's normal. There were a few artists who would also make a caricature. All of them had enough patrons; there was a queue waiting to have their portraits - or caricatures - drawn. And then, in the midst of all those artists, was a circle of artists who were doing something that seemed quite odd. All of them were focussed on sketching just one person - what is it that they were doing? Or, who was he?

Music everywhere

It is the music season in Chennai. If you thought it meant only concerts in halls, think again. Performances can be seen outside the hall as well. Here is a group gathered outside the Kapaleeshwarar temple, singing paasurams. 

You may be able to see such a group at other times of the year, but that would be a lone swallow. It is during that month of Margazhi that several such groups go around the temple, singing devotional songs - and that's what makes the music season here!

Old news

What look like logs of wood are actually rolled up newspapers. Thousands of them, we are told. The artist is Manish Nai and this is his way of reminding us that there can be beauty in discards, and there are many ways of re-cycling stuff.

Take a look at it, next time you are at the Phoenix Market City. And you might also like to suggest some name for it - the artist has not given it a title!

Four-in-one

In the annexe to the Art Gallery at Chennai, there are a few paintings of the British Governors of Madras. They are not arranged in any particular order and there are four of them put together in one corner of the first floor. 

Here they are, from left to right: Field Marshal George Hay, 8th Marquess of Tweeddale (1842-48), Lord Harris (1854-59), Francis Napier, 10th Lord Napier and 1st Baron Ettrick (1866-72) and Robert Bourke, 1st Baron Connemara (1886-90). 

What happened to those who held office in between these gentlemen's regimes? Some of them have their paintings hung at the Fort Museum - and there are probably others whose tenures were eminently forgettable - maybe their paintings have been turned away to face the wall somewhere! 

Door lamp

No, this is not how we usually light up the doorway or the foyers in Chennai. Just that it is the second day of Karthigai, the festival of lights, in this part of the world. 

May the lights shine bright for everyone through the year! 

Serenity

The bronze gallery at the Chennai Museum is mainly given over to Hindu deities, but there are some wonderful pieces depicting Buddhist and Jain icons as well. Here is one such, showing the Buddha under the bodhi tree (it has to be the bodhi, isn't it?).

This one is from Nagapattinam and is dated to the 11th century CE. It is not usual for the Buddha to be shown with attendants, so that should make this one also a rare work of art!

Grand spectacle

In his career spanning over 40 years, Vittalacharya made movies that brought every kind of fantasy to the cinema screen. Whether it was a story from some by-lane of mythology, or a tale of queens and kingdoms, Vittalacharya's films would bring in all those delectable horrors of poltergeists, talking animals, supernatural beings - every kind of 'special effect' that you could not think of - to the hall and all one had to do was to sit entranced.

Though he was born in Udupi and his films were mainly in Kannada and Telugu, Vittalacharya was based in Madras for most of his life. He did make a few Tamizh films as well, but I don't remember any of them performing better than Jaganmohini. It was originally made in 1951 in Kannada by one of Vittalacharya's partners in their venture 'Mahatma Pictures'. The Telugu version, also dubbed in Tamizh was made by Vittalacharya in 1978 and was a huge hit, running for nearly a year in the theatres. 

This block of flats stand where Jaganmohini's release would have been plotted. Vittalacharya lived and worked out of his house on Saravana Perumal Street in Purasaiwalkam. After his death in 1999, the house was sold and made way for these modern residences to come up. The curved balconies and decorated sunshades have surely been influenced by the touch of the master, who was once known as Mayajaala Mannan!

Small auditorium

The M.CT.M. Chidambaram Chettyar Matriculation School was established in 1981 in Mylapore. The school has been at the same premises since then. But in 2002, there was an addition to the school buildings. The Smt Sivakami Pethachi Auditorium is a multipurpose performance space, which can house about 500 people. 

It was a few Sundays ago. Nithyasree Mahadevan was performing that evening. It was open to all, so no wonder that the hall was quite full!

Display

At the Cholamandalam Artists' Village, visitors are not allowed to take pictures of the works inside the galleries. That is a big disappointment, but to make a mess of Keats, "...those unseen are brighter...". But they do allow you to take pictures of the exhibits and installations outside, and here is one of those. 

This one, by Keizo Ushio, and goes back to 1990. Titled 'Seven Thoughts', this granite sculpture took two years to be completed. Most likely, Ushio gifted this to the Cholamandalam Village in 1990, when he was invited to the 2nd International Sculpture Symposium in South India that year.

I am drawing a blank right now, but what do you think Ushio's thoughts were?

Golden hero

The month of October is special for fans of 'Sivaji' Ganesan, the Nadigar Thilagam (the crown jewel of actors?) of Tamizh cinema. The first of the month is the birth anniversary of Villuppuram Chinnaiahpillai Ganesan, who went on to rule the Tamizh screen for over four decades between the 1950s and 1990s. He had many awards to his credit, including that of Best Actor at Afro-Asian Film Festival in Cairo in 1960 - the first Indian actor to win that award in an international festival.

That career started with the film "Parasakthi", made by AVM Studios in 1952. The script was by Mu Karunanidhi. Questioning the social mores of the day, the film's dialogues were quite fiery; quite a bit into its making, A.V. Meyyappan, the studio owner (and co-producer), as well as Krishnan-Panju, the co-directors, had doubts about the young man who was making his debut in the role of Gunasekaran, the lead character of the film. It was Mrs. Meyyappan and P.A. Perumal of National Pictures, the other co-producer, who backed Ganesan - and the rest, of course is history; not just for Ganesan, but also for the scriptwriter who would go on to become the state's Chief Minister. Parasakthi set the tone for a new kind of film-making.

It was on October 17, 1952 that this landmark of Tamizh cinema was released. 50 years later, this memorial to the movie was inaugurated inside the AVM studios. Apparently, it was initially placed a little way away from its current location, but was later shifted to the spot where Sivaji Ganesan delivered his first shot of the movie. At the bottom of this stand-up plaque, there is another shaped liked a book, listing the names of the people who had worked on the film: writers, lyricists, music director and technicians. The entire monument is topped off with the image of Sivaji delivering the first word of his first shot. Prophetic it was, for what he said was - "Success!"!

The other leg

The focal point of the bronze gallery at the Chennai Government Museum is the Natesha at the far end of the ground floor. But that is not the only statue of Siva as the dancer. One half of the first floor of the bronze gallery is given over to a display of about a dozen Nataraja idols. Despite all the irritants in getting a proper view of them, this is something that everyone should have on their must-see list. 

The Natarajas range in antiquity from sprightly 500-year olds to more solemn 1100-year olds. They have been collected mostly from Madurai and Thanjavur; with one or two from Nagapattinam, Kanchipuram and Tiruvallore. They are wonderful examples of Chozha bronzes, prized by collectors the world over. There are several more such, which continue to be present in their temples and shrines, being used as objects of worship even today. The ones in the museum were recovered from their hiding places; they were hidden from rapacious invaders and very often forgotten for centuries before turning up on a farmer's ploughshare. 

They are much sought after by "collectors" the world over and have attracted unscrupulous middlemen, who think nothing of bribing, threatening or browbeating temple-guards in remote villages and spiriting away similar idols across the world. One of the most notorious of such antique smugglers, Subhash Kapoor (who is now in the Puzhal prison, facing trial) had managed to get several of them out, over several years, selling them not just to secretive or unscrupulous collectors, but bizarrely, even to the National Gallery of Australia. That last one is now on its way back, but many of the others would remain out of reach. The returning Nataraja is 900 years old and is in the regular posture, with its left leg raised. It is reportedly worth $5.6 million. Imagine what this one, from the 9th century CE, in a rare posture of raising the right leg, would be worth - at least now, go take a look at it!

Hidden treasure

By rights, this building should have celebrated its centenary with great pomp and show five years ago. Its foundation stone was laid by the grandson of the lady whose name it bore; called the Victoria Memorial Hall, it took three years to build. Prince George (later King George V) laid the foundation stone on January 24, 1906 and it was open to public on March 23, 1909. Henry Irwin, the architect who is usually remembered in the context of Indo-Saracenic style, took inspiration from Mughal and Rajasthani designs for this building. The canopied turrets and the Jaipuri-Jaina windows got this building to stand apart from its neighbours.

The first occupant of the building was the Victoria Technical Institute which had until then been functioning from the museum itself. The VTI operated from this building until 1951, when it was taken over by the government. It continued to be associated with arts and crafts, for it now housed the National Art Gallery. There was quite a lot of art there, with paintings from the Mughal period, rock art, traditional Indian paintings and quite a few paintings from the British era. Most of those works were moved to the new art gallery building right next to this, sometime in 2003; for by then, the Victoria Memorial Hall had been deemed unsafe for use.

Last year, a renovation project was announced with much fanfare. Apart from putting up a metal screen/barricade around the front of this building, not much more was done on the renovation front. In some ways, this is quintessential Chennai: grand ideas and beautiful structures. But somehow, they stay hidden, not thrusting out in-your-face, but knowing that there is beauty here, even if you have to come over all the way to this corner of the museum and have the patience to look beyond the barricades!

Gokulashtami

The ninth avataram of Vishnu was the one who knew of his Godliness right from his birth, unlike the earlier avatarams who were completely ignorant of their divine spark. Krishna knew that he was a God and was not exactly shy of showing off. Stories about his childhood are legion and these stories are recalled today, as much of the country celebrates his birth with much festivity today.

Most of the celebrations in Chennai are of the "at home" variety. The common theme is the outline of the boy Krishna's footsteps as he trails them after knocking down the pots of butter - and then there are all the eats to be had, the music to be listened to, all of which celebrate Krishna's carefree boyhood rather than his life as an adult. 

For this day, here is a painting of Krishna with Yashoda, his foster-mother. There are several representations of this duo, but this is not one of the more common ones. But it is by Raja Ravi Varma, the man who single-handedly gave a face and form to most Gods and Goddesses of the Hindu pantheon. This oil-on-canvas can be found in the Chennai museum, along with a few others of Ravi Varma's canvases. Go on, enjoy the day!

Further light

The Government Museum in Chennai has a very eclectic collection of artefacts. From the crocodile that was found in the Cooum to a schoolboy's toy bus claiming to be a model of the MTC buses, the collection has something in it for everyone.

The pride of the museum, however, has to be its bronze gallery. Even if it is only they who say it, no one would dare to counter their claim that the museum has the largest collection of such antique metal under one roof. The gallery is home to over 1,500 pieces, the huge majority of them representing Hindu Gods and Goddesses. Roughly a hundred of the pieces are Jain and Buddhist; the remainder are a bewildering mix of periods, schools and sources. Having been the Presidency Museum, it was the place where any kind of uncommon object was sent out to from anywhere in the Presidency. 

The pièce de résistance of the bronze gallery is this figure of Siva performing his cosmic dance. All the other pieces in the gallery are enclosed in glass cases. The beautiful Ardhanarisvara image, set on a revolving base, grabs your attention as soon as you enter. There are several others that hold you spellbound. But taking a picture is a challenge, thanks to be intervening layers of glass and the reflections therefrom. The idol of Siva, set on a raised stage at the far end of the gallery, has its special background. With no glass covering it, visitors can marvel at this wonderful figure from the 12th century CE; and no, it is not called the Nataraja, or "King of the Dance". Given the intense feelings it brings out in anyone who passes by, it seems more meaningful to call him what is a greater title - Natesha, the "God of the Dance"!

Throwing light

Pradeep Chakravarthy is a management consultant. But he is more than that, as well. He is deeply interested in the history and heritage - of this part of the world, specifically. He has written "Thanjavur: A Cultural History" and has also been the editor of a collection of writings on Kodaikanal. So, when he announces that he is going to lead a session to explain the basic differences between the Pallava, Chola and Vijayanagara styles, there is a rush to be part of that session. We were lucky to get in, and there we were at the Museum on Sunday morning. 

Basically: the Pallavas were the earliest of the three - their sculptures of Gods, or humans, were natural, showing them in relaxed postures, low on detailing, oval faces, cylindrical headgear. Through the Chola period, the figures became more stylized, the headgear conical, faces rounder and the body began to take postures that would have been difficult to sustain in real life. The volume of sculptures grew through the Chola and the Vijayanagara dynasties, and they became more 'industrialized'; templated designs and details, churned out by moderately skilled craftsmen, sacrificing originality and natural representation for the ease of mass production.

There were more details, and Pradeep weaved them into a tapestry of how life must have been in those days of yore; it was a compelling performance. The importance of noticing details, which is what helps you become a more-than-an-open-mouthed-gaper, was especially brought out right at the start. What most people would consider to be run of the mill stone columns near the statue of the Buddha are actually columns from the Pallava era, with inscriptions revealing what the king Mahendravarman considered himself to be. For more on that, over to Pradeep himself!

Chariot procession

Many translations of such events refer to them as "Car" festivals. Yes, it is a vehicle no doubt, but I prefer to translate தேர் as 'chariot' rather than a pedestrian 'car'. This one is part of the Bhramotsavam of Sri Narasimha Swamy at Triplicane's Parthasarathy Swamy Temple. On the seventh day of the Bhramotsavam, the decorated chariot is taken around the streets encircling the temple, pulled by devotees. 

Ahead of the chariot is the phalanx of mamas, in traditional Iyengar garb, reciting verses from the நாலாயிரத் திவ்வியப் பிரபந்தம் (Nalayira divya prabandham, four thousand divine codices). Ahead of them, maamis rush to put the final flourishes on their kolams before the கோஷ்டி reaches their doorstep. 

It is a formidable sight, with the chariot being pulled at what can be considered break-back speed trying to catch up with the chanting crowd, while devotees prostrate before the கோஷ்டி or before the chariot, falling down and getting up at speed, without getting in the way of others. In times gone by, this procession would probably have taken half-a-day, stopping at several points along their short way. Today, it was over in a relative flash, within 90 minutes or so; that must have been a very rapid recitation of the divya prabandham!

Small beginning

Kalakshetra was founded in 1936, in part as an extension of the founders' belief that Theosophy should be extended through an academy for training students in traditional arts. With all the founders belonging to the Theosophical Society at Adyar, it was the easiest thing for them to have the academy function out of the Society's premises. One of the members of the academy, Pandit Subramania Sastri, suggested the name "Kalakshetra", meaning "Holy place of the Arts". 

The academy grew. Rukmini Devi Arundale, the prime mover behind the academy, had personally trained many of the initial batches of students and continued to drive the courses at the academy for many years. In 1951, the academy began developing its own premises at Thiruvanmiyur, a short distance away from the Theosophical Society. Fittingly, the development started with the planting of a sapling from the great banyan of the Theosophical Society in the newly acquired land.

The land expanded to nearly 100 acres. The sapling has grown into a large tree. The academy has grown to become the Kalakshetra Foundation, bringing into its fold five distinct institutions - the College of Fine Arts, the Craft Education and Research Centre, the Besant Arundale Theosophical Senior Secondary and High Schools and the Besant Cultural Centre Hostel. In 1993, the Foundation was taken over by the Government of India and declared an institution of National Importance. Here's to the institution growing further and spreading wide, like the sapling seems to be doing!

Movement memorial

In 1852, the government took over the Madras School of Arts, that had been established by a surgeon, Dr. Alexander Hunter, a couple of years earlier. More than a century later, the second Indian principal of that establishment - which was by now known as College of Arts and Crafts - was instrumental in creating a movement of painters and sculptors that sought to combine modernism with local influences of myth, legend and art heritage. That principal was Kovalezhi Cheerampathoor Sankaran Paniker. His fellow teachers, and several students pursued this artistic ideal and that group became the vanguard of the Madras Movement. 

Many artists of that movement were extremely individualistic and it seems to me something of a miracle that they held together for long enough for their work to come under a 'category'. But they did and their work, recognized as and identified with the Madras Movement is feted around the world. They came together to form the Cholamandalam Artists' Village in the late 1960s, but it was only in the last decade that the artists have ventured to create a Centre for Contemporary Art. 

Housed within that Centre is the KCS Paniker Museum of the Madras Movement. It has works from almost every significant member of the Movement. Most of Paniker's own works, however, are not here; they are not with the Cholamandalam Artists' Village, either. They are not even anywhere in Chennai, for the Government of Madras (as it was in those days) did not take up Paniker's offer to donate his works to the state; and so they moved away to the Art Gallery at Thiruvananthapuram!

Art centre

In the 1960s, when K.C.S. Panicker started what came to be known as the 'Madras Movement', he also recognized that the artists of the Movement needed to be able to sustain themselves without having to sacrifice the leisure to pursue their art. And so was born, in 1966, the Cholamandalam Artists' Village. It was indeed a village, where the inhabitants turned out art products, which were then marketed to provide them a livelihood. Over the years, the Village has thrived; it is one of the very few artists' communes across the world that has remained successful across generations.  

In 2009, the Village inaugurated its showpiece to the world. The Cholamandalam Centre for Contemporary Art displays several works by the vanguard of the Madras Movement. The redbrick building houses paintings and sculptures; and there are many more sculptures and installations in the grounds as well. In fact, some of them have blended right in with the environment that you are surprised at what turns up. (Remember the sleeping cat? And one installation, being under a Ficus, has the ariel roots finding pathways through its grooves, now)

More about the Madras Movement later. The ban on taking pictures of the displays inside means that one has to find other ways to show what is there. But hey, if you are up early today, go for a drive on the East Coast Road. And on the way back, stop at the Centre - they open at 10am, so you can also stop here on your way to brunch along the ECR. So now, you have no excuses left for staying away from here!