Art: beneath it… within the artist…

I stare at magnificent carvings in magnificent temples. I stare at magnificent structures – palaces and forts, from centuries ago.  The temples, the forts, the palaces, the paintings, the art… they have all witnessed greatness and devastation, glory and war and plunder.

They have stood through time. History unfolding, art undying. Beauty and magnificence everlasting.

Every pillar, every mural, every wall, every corner has witnessed history. Some art has withered away in the ravages of time and the rage of war. But even in ruin, the art seems whole. 

Jaisalmer - temple carvings

 

Mughal Paintings: paints made from ground up semi-precious stone

 

Carvings in sandstone

 

Jodhpur: the blue city

One head, multiple bodies

 

From a generation constantly rushed and overwhelmed, I wonder about these artisans. I imagine them – hundreds of them slowly, devotionally, chiseling, painting… meditatively creating art.

I look at the five foot single stone carving. I imagine artisans molding it as if it were clay. The stone is cold and unforgiving, no do-overs here. If it breaks, it is gone. They would start all over. Yet this cold, unforgiving stone is rendered soft and supple by their art.

They must have lives and worries and preadolescent kids too, I imagine. Yet, staring at the block of stone, or their medium of choice, they forget everything, and give in only to the art?

I don’t imagine them staring at their computer screen, deciding that the entire story plot is too predictable, sighing and then deciding to go get a cookie. I don’t imagine them questioning their art or their skill, or getting so distracted on their way back from the pantry – they never return to the computer.

Yes. All art (even amateurish) requires some slowing down, some letting go. The more exquisite the art, the more devotion it must require. The more true the artiste, the more willing they must be to relinquish the ugliness within, the distractions, the pain, the mundane, and be able to see the bigger vision, to draw out the beauty.

True, angst is sometimes the source of art too. But even if the subject matter is filled with pain, an artiste would have to forget all else, and bring it out with truth and inner peace or pain and beauty. Yes. Art must result from the paradox of concentration and letting go.

How much beauty must an artiste create within? How much beauty from within must an artist release? How do we know if there is even enough beauty within us to create art?
 

carved ceilings

King's quarters inside Mehrangarh fort

royal cenotaphs