Decoding ‘Art’

My visit to Italy had left me overwhelmed in more ways than one. The shoe shaped country had so much to offer in terms of art, culture, cuisine,picturesque landscapes, the best of wines and, well, ofcourse…shoes! I spent many an afternoon and evening at the Piazza di Santa Maria Novella, soaking in the lovely atmosphere that Florence had to offer, sipping on some exquisite Tuscany wines and digging into the wide variety of vegetarian cuisine or simply sitting by the Trevi Fountain at the Piazzi di Trevi in Rome, hoping that my wish be fulfilled even as I marvelled at the thin crust of the pizza and enjoyed the most heart melting gelato - the way to a woman’s heart is also through her stomach. 

While my own country has some breathtaking art (performing, visual and literary) and architecture, it might seem strange that it was in Italy that I found myself consumed by both, its beauty and intellectual appeal. The memories of my experiences as I stood gaping at the Pieta, trying hard to comprehend what the Virgin might have gone through as she held the lifeless body of her son, or as I sat on one of the benches of the Sistine chapel, spellbound by The Creation of Adam, or even the skipping of my heartbeat as I walked into the Academia in Florence to find David towering over me, or the tears that rolled down my cheeks as I was enraptured by the Crucifixion of Christ by Giovanni Donato at the convent of Santa Maria della Grazie in Milan, are all part of me today. They have reaffirmed in me the knowledge of the depth that art can take.

I grew up in a family that appreciated art in all its forms - dance, music, and literature took precedence over other forms. As a child I had trained in the classical dance form, Bharatnatyam, and in Carnatic music. My father was self-taught in Carnatic music, eavesdropping on the classes while his two sisters were being trained simply because my grandfather could not afford a third child’s fee and that it was felt more important that the girls be trained to improve their matrimonial prospects; my first exposure to music was through his singing (not my mother’s lullaby!). Even to this day, my father discusses ragas with me, singing to explain a nuance; my interests in adult life shifted to the other form of classical music - Hindustani music. 

But why am I mentioning all this? 

A few days back, as I pulled over into a parking lot, a prominent billboard caught my attention - ‘ Henna Art’ was inscribed in big, bold letters. At that moment, something in my mind cringed. Preoccupied then, I pushed the thought to the back of my mind but I revisited that thought and began my attempt at finding a reason for the cringing. I spoke to musician-friends and film-maker-friends, read up on scholarly articles on art, poured over analyses of Collingwood’s The Principles of Art, re-read Irving Stone’s The Agony and the Ecstasy and Lust for Life and listened to the same raga rendered by different musicians, all in the hope of understanding what exactly was meant by ‘art’. 

Why was it that a Yaman by Kishori Amonkar could touch my soul, while that by any other equally skilled musician did not have the same impact on me? Why is it that The Last Supper, while being an exemplary work of art, did not create in my minds eye an image the way the Crucifixion did, enough to move me to tears - after all Da Vinci was regarded a far superior artiste as compared to the lesser known Giovanni? Ofcourse, one must factor in the subjective aspect of these on the part of the receptor of such art.
One might raise the 'high art' - 'low art' discourse that dominated the art scenario in Europe (and does continue to arise every once- a-while); but my argument would be that anything which combines aesthetic and intellectual appeal, as art does, must not be classified in terms of the extent of appeal since that itself is subjective in nature. Rather, it becomes important to understand what qualifies as art, consciously refraining from categorising it on the basis of any hierarchical yardstick. 

As I dug deeper into the concept and perception of art along the ages, I’ve come to realise that in today’s world, the lines that differentiated skill, craft and art have blurred greatly. Collingwoods describes at length the various aspects of art, as being ‘Magic’ or ‘ Amusement’ etc. But what stands out in his explanations is the fact that art must portray expression. 

Personally, I would believe that art is a philosophy and must possess an intellectual appeal to qualify. So, tattoo designing, henna designing and the likes, are a skill - they are predetermined patterns or designs, leave little room for individual liberties and creativity and while they cater to the utilitarian concept of beauty (or even vanity!) they lack any inherent expression. Again, basket weaving is a craft that requires the knowledge (and expertise) of the skill of weaving; the basket itself is of utilitarian value. In both cases, they create an object for visual appeal that fails to create an impact that goes beyond the mind. 

Art encompasses all of that - a skill, a craft, an inherent expression and an intellectual appeal. Cooking becomes an art when it arouses the senses - taste, imagination, pleasure and love; sex becomes the art of love making when its impact touches the heart and the soul, going beyond the carnal; a painting becomes a piece of art when it makes the receptor a partner to the emotion being conveyed or expressed; an architectural specimen becomes art when it kindles a curiosity and triggers bewilderment, carrying with it a statement of power (forts), victory (palaces), spirituality (places of worship) or grief (mausoleums).

The Sanskrit word, Rasa, which is explored in the Natyashastra in the context of the arts, particularly the performing arts, but is extended to literature and visual arts, means juice (literally) or essence. It is used to describe the state of mind, the emotion expressed through a work of art or the experience of the receptor on viewing/listening to/reading such a work of art. These essences are the emotions felt by both, the artiste and the receptor, in the process of experiencing the art. 

As I discovered, ‘art’ is a small word that carries with it a rich, unfathomable meaning. A failure to recognise that richness could indicate a diluting sense of aesthetics and intellect. And therein lies its crux!