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拍品專文
“Ram Kumar’s Banaras landscapes lift one out of the toil of the moment into the timeless world of formless memories. What he paints is not what the eye sees in the ancient city, it is rather the response of the soul to the visual impacts” (J. Swaminathan, ‘Ram Kumar-A New Stage’, Lalit Kala Contemporary 40, New Delhi, 1995, pp. 42-43).
Ram Kumar, a writer and poet in addition to being one of India’s most important modern artists, would persist for over forty years in portraying the complexity of the city of Benares or Varanasi in his painting through its timeless architecture and its stark contrasts, particularly those between mortality and divinity, the celebration of life and the rituals of death. He recalls “Why Benares and not some place else? It was at that point in my life, I happened to visit Benares and it was all there before me... Benares' uniqueness lies in its age-old associations and the faith of millions. During my several visits to this city, my effort has been to fathom a little of its mysterious depths which I could interpret in my paintings” (Artist statement, G. Gill ed., Ram Kumar, A Journey Within, New Delhi, 1996, p. 191).
In this magnificent vision of the holy city’s ghats or riverbanks, painted in 1994, the frame is dominated by the unmistakable, labyrinthine architecture of Varanasi. Partially hidden stairways lead up from the water, through precariously stacked box-like structures, all the way to pointed temple roofs that rise above the ghats piercing the sky. Empty boats are pulled up at the bank, and the traditional bamboo chhatris or parasols lie abandoned, their shade unused by priests or pilgrims. This is because in this version of the spectral city, there are no residents or visitors. While the riverbanks are in reality chaotic, and teeming with all sorts of people all the time, here, they are subdued, as if the old city itself is the only living, heaving protagonist of this scene, bridging water and sky, the human and the divine, as it has for centuries.
Ram Kumar explains how he came to see the holy city this way, describing his first visit to Varanasi in a 1996 interview, shortly after he painted the present lot. He recalls, “It was the middle of winter. And I had reached the city late at night. The dimly lit lanes were deserted and gave the impression of a ghostly deserted city. I thought the city was inhabited only by the dead and their dead souls. It looked like a haunted place and still remains the same. Wandering along the ghats in a vast sea of humanity, I saw faces like masks bearing marks of suffering and pain similar to the blocks, doors and windows jutting out of dilapidated old houses, palaces, temples. Sitting on the steps of Manikarnika Ghat, watching dead bodies some brought from distant villages in boats, waiting for their turn at liberation, I almost felt the disappearing boundary line between life and death. The temples of death, the smoke rising from funeral pyres, the wailing of the relatives of the dead, and the river Ganga flowing slowly without a sound I could not remain a silent observer. And then the mysterious steps on every ghat emerged from the river leading upward to enter the dark labyrinths of the city which was submerged in the stark reality of daily life. Every sight was like a new composition, a still life artistically organized to be interpreted in colours. It was not merely outward appearances which were fascinating but they were vibrant with an inner life of their own, very deep and profound, which left an everlasting impression on my artistic sensibility” (Artist statement, G. Gill ed., Ram Kumar, A Journey Within, New Delhi, 1996, p. 89).
Ram Kumar, a writer and poet in addition to being one of India’s most important modern artists, would persist for over forty years in portraying the complexity of the city of Benares or Varanasi in his painting through its timeless architecture and its stark contrasts, particularly those between mortality and divinity, the celebration of life and the rituals of death. He recalls “Why Benares and not some place else? It was at that point in my life, I happened to visit Benares and it was all there before me... Benares' uniqueness lies in its age-old associations and the faith of millions. During my several visits to this city, my effort has been to fathom a little of its mysterious depths which I could interpret in my paintings” (Artist statement, G. Gill ed., Ram Kumar, A Journey Within, New Delhi, 1996, p. 191).
In this magnificent vision of the holy city’s ghats or riverbanks, painted in 1994, the frame is dominated by the unmistakable, labyrinthine architecture of Varanasi. Partially hidden stairways lead up from the water, through precariously stacked box-like structures, all the way to pointed temple roofs that rise above the ghats piercing the sky. Empty boats are pulled up at the bank, and the traditional bamboo chhatris or parasols lie abandoned, their shade unused by priests or pilgrims. This is because in this version of the spectral city, there are no residents or visitors. While the riverbanks are in reality chaotic, and teeming with all sorts of people all the time, here, they are subdued, as if the old city itself is the only living, heaving protagonist of this scene, bridging water and sky, the human and the divine, as it has for centuries.
Ram Kumar explains how he came to see the holy city this way, describing his first visit to Varanasi in a 1996 interview, shortly after he painted the present lot. He recalls, “It was the middle of winter. And I had reached the city late at night. The dimly lit lanes were deserted and gave the impression of a ghostly deserted city. I thought the city was inhabited only by the dead and their dead souls. It looked like a haunted place and still remains the same. Wandering along the ghats in a vast sea of humanity, I saw faces like masks bearing marks of suffering and pain similar to the blocks, doors and windows jutting out of dilapidated old houses, palaces, temples. Sitting on the steps of Manikarnika Ghat, watching dead bodies some brought from distant villages in boats, waiting for their turn at liberation, I almost felt the disappearing boundary line between life and death. The temples of death, the smoke rising from funeral pyres, the wailing of the relatives of the dead, and the river Ganga flowing slowly without a sound I could not remain a silent observer. And then the mysterious steps on every ghat emerged from the river leading upward to enter the dark labyrinths of the city which was submerged in the stark reality of daily life. Every sight was like a new composition, a still life artistically organized to be interpreted in colours. It was not merely outward appearances which were fascinating but they were vibrant with an inner life of their own, very deep and profound, which left an everlasting impression on my artistic sensibility” (Artist statement, G. Gill ed., Ram Kumar, A Journey Within, New Delhi, 1996, p. 89).