Art... What do you know?

To those who know me well, it will come as no surprise that one of the first places I visited upon arriving in Mumbai was the National Gallery of Modern Art Mumbai. Having visited the magnificent Gateway of India, I was walking to visit the main museum here in Mumbai (think mini-British Museum and you’ll be on the right track. More anon) but saw the name of this Gallery in the distance, floating above the tops of the trees.

Housed in what looks like a mini-Albert Hall (you’ll soon get the theme of my first 48 hours in Mumbai!) the gallery is over 5 floors, imaginatively leading from one to the other – making wonderful use of the space in a non-linear kind of way. Hard to explain, but really lovely to experience. All the floors were open plan, so you could catch glimpses of what was on the floors above as you made your way around each one. (Visit the website and you’ll see what I mean.)

Unlike many Galleries of Modern Art I have encountered (and there have been a few over the years), this one was filled at this time with items rather more representational in content. Most works were themed to the Hindu Faith and its associated stories, many of them completely recognisable as such. However, the period the museum covers (from the late 19^th Century, means that a range of styles is present – influences such as Gaugin, Picasso, Cubism – and more – were present.

It was the Exhibition on the upper three floors which really caught my attention. Shakti – Fair and Fierce, in which all the works are by female artists. A whole range of styles and artistic media is shown in this Exhibition – painting, sculpture, glass-work, computer-image creations. It was so inspiring.

This was one of my favourite; kundalini. Created by Charuvi Agrawal, it took four days to install - and takes this amount of time each and every time it is moved! Made of thread and glass beads, it is a representation linked to the awakening of Chakras in the body. My photograph here simply does not do it justice.

What made this visit even more special for my first activity in India, was being met by Piyush, a member of the staff at the Gallery. He spent a lot of time with me, explaining the art works, and especially the stories of the Hindu Gods. This was so helpful - and so inspiring - as we were able to talk about the history, artists and meanings of many of the pieces. We were also able to share the reality that none of us knows what an artist might really have intended, and we each bring our own history, interpretation, feelings to a piece. 

The second piece I loved was this one. Created by Arpana Caur, the way in which it depicts (to me) the different aspects of personality/personae, is beautiful.

You can read more about the Exhibition here. I am so glad I 'bumped into' this Gallery as it was a beautiful and inspiring introduction to Indian art in its various forms.

"Fabulous Crucifixion"

One of the best quotes I’ve heard in a long time is one from Professor Eamon Duffy this week, ‘Let’s look for a fabulous crucifixion… Oh, that’ll do.’ I did comment on how ‘wonderful’ it was (in an ironic way) that he/we might be able to say such a thing. In reality, the context in which the comment was made is important: it was within the context of a Lecture to do with imagining [imaging] the crucifixion of Jesus.

During the Lecture we were taken on a whistle-stop journey through almost two thousand years of art (note, I don’t say Christian Art). We learned that, whilst the cross may have been imagined, images of the crucifixion (ie Jesus on the cross) did not appear for a good few hundred years after the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. (And yes, the apocryphal story of the person in the shop who asked, “Well the thing is, do you want one those crosses with the little man on it or not?”) We also learned that are were many ways in which images (paintings, icons, statuary) through the ages have often included/reflected/‘absorbed’ secular/pagan imagery – somehow re-labelling that which could otherwise not be countenanced. Through art-work designed to reflect the pathetic nature of the dead and dying Christ which sought to evoke guilt in the onlooker, on to art that sought to provoke sympathy and devotion for the suffering one, moving towards art that imaged Christ as one who suffered in similar ways to the onlooker (eg the Isenheim Altarpiece by Grunwald in which the Jesus who hangs on the cross suffers, in the same way at which those who prayed before it suffered). Art that seeks to assist the people of God in their devotions, as well explain to non-believers something of the mystery and magnificence of what has taken place, has a hard task to fulfil.

The way in which the imaging of the cross has changed across the centuries and how the art work used for devotion within communities found in different places and with different theologies of the cross, was fascinating. Reflecting on any of these things causes (hopefully) the individual to explore what they ‘see’, what they ‘understand’, what ‘story’ of the cross they tell, and why. Many of the people present for Professor Duffy’s Lecture found their eyes opened to new visions, simply by having things explained. An item, the use of which had seemed unconscionable within worship, suddenly began to be filled with new possibility as an aid to devotion or, at least, and understanding to why it was created to assist devotion was developed.

One such item was a jewelled cross (an example of which is given below). It is easy to understand why, when one has been brought up within a non-Conformist tradition, the use of a be-jewelled cross might be something 'beyond the pail'. My church experience and practice is pretty broad, but even I wonder what crosses that have little jewels hanging from them are all about. Rather like understanding Professor Duffy’s comment about finding a ‘fabulous crucifixion’, context is important. When you understand that the blood of Christ on the cross is precious to believers, and that those who created these jewelled crosses were seeking to reflect in ‘manufactured form’ the amazing truth of the preciousness of the blood that flooded down the wood of the cross, then it is possible for the jewels to be given meaning. No longer, for some, are these 'funny little crosses with their dangly jewels' objects of derision (which, for many non-Christians, the cross itself was/is), rather, meaning can be given to these crosses and the precious metals and jewels that form and adorn them – meaning that understands them signs and symbols of the precious form and blood of Jesus himself.

How wonderful it was to be addressed by someone whose books I have read (The Stripping of the Altars being one such book, the reading aloud of which reduced me to tears when someone sniggered at the fact I didn’t know how to pronounce one of the phrases given in Latin). And how wonderful to be with someone who was able to explore with us the journey that art, both Christian and otherwise, had taken in terms of seeking to reflect eternal truths. It was lovely to be able to listen to a man of faith sharing his understanding of what he knew with us who were seeking understanding and knowledge too. It was a very good way to start a Course on Preaching and Praying the Passion… more anon!

Things I have remembered today

That I love maps!
I love studying them. I love the detail they give you. I love the way in which they allow you to get a sense of the lay of the land (quite literally!) I love following them as I discover new places… and I especially love maps for bus routes when visiting new places. I have also been reminded of my own rule to get hold of a decent bus map when visiting a new city or town. I’m sorry to tell you folks, maps on your phone/tablet are just not the same. When you are in a foreign land and you don’t want to eat up data – nothing will take the place of a paper map (that gets rain soaked, frayed around the edges and slightly torn at the creases after four or five days usage... I love it!) and what have I failed to do on arriving here... pick up a decent bus map... it's almost been a disaster.

That I love discovering new places
One of the things I really love to do when visiting a new place, cities especially, is to go on a bus ride from one side of town to the other. It’s a great way to get a feel for the different districts and suburbs. I like to notice the people and where they get on and off, as well as what they are wearing and what they are reading (or not). I like to notice the architecture and the way in which different parts of town change, quite literally, from one side of a junction to the other. I noticed this quite some years ago when I visited America, first New York and then San Francisco (clang, there’s are two place-name-drops!) Quite literally, you would pass from one side of the road to the other and the visible difference in poverty and wealth were so marked it was hard to believe your eyes. I’ve heard of communities being cut in two by train tracks or large roads but these are negligible when compared with the apparent, blatant even, societal change for no good reason than a set of traffic lights.

That I need to take water seriously
In the place I am staying in Jerusalem, the drains for the sinks and baths are under the floors rather than on the outside of the building. (I assume it is because the bathrooms are at the back of the building and there is a long corridor behind them. It sounds plausible, so I am going with it!) When you can hear the sound of water draining away beneath your feet, you take it more seriously. ‘Is the plug not in the plughole properly?’ ‘Doesn’t it fit?’ ‘Listen to how much water I am wasting as I run the tap and wait for the hot water to arrive.’ Now I’m someone who doesn’t bother with water on my toothbrush before brushing my teeth (believe me, you don’t need it) so there is no chance of me leaving leave the tap running whilst I brush my teeth, but I will own up to letting the bathroom tap run on as I wait for the hot water to come through. If I’m in the kitchen I use the water for the plants – but there are no plants upstairs… Today however, as I have listened to water running away beneath my feet (in a land where I also happen to know water is a previous commodity), I am reminded to take this commodity rather more seriously.

That I love being surprised art
At the Israel Museum there is an Art Garden (such a brilliant idea – a bit like Sculpture Parks but not so far out of town… possibly) There is an eclectic mix of sculptures and ‘installations’ – two of which particularly caught my eye: Equinox and Space that Sees. The first you come to is what looks essentially like a window inserted into the ground – and it is. However, it is above a large space carved out of the ground and the idea is that the sun (of there is any) causes a block of light to travel around inside the room – and the placement of this block of light will be determined by time of day, time of year and indeed, whether there is any sunlight at all. There is an additional catch – but I’ll leave you to discover it if ever your travel there! The second installation also plays with light being held in space – or not. I have to confess that when I first saw it I did wonder what to make of it. It is a large square white block and I assumed it was a large empty space that you couldn’t see into but that you were meant to infer that you 'knew' there was space inside it and that was enough. However, on walking away I noticed a small sign that indicated you had to follow the path around the corner. If you do so, you discover the way into the form – and it is not entirely what you might expect at all! The white square above ground has no roof and opens up to the sky. I was on my own and sky was a stunning cerulean blue and so I spent ages just looking up at this wonderful sight… wonderful and surprising and delightful all in one.

That people are kind and generous to you if try to speak their language
Travel to Calais or Boulogne and the French are quite rightly disdainful of the English who cannot be bothered to even attempt to speak French to them. Some of them are quite ride and I don’t blame them. I have very little Hebrew (make that very, very little Hebrew!) but, amongst other things, I can say Hello, Good morning/evening, Thank you and… shekel! I have found here in Israel that, if I say Shalom and then apologise for not being able to speak Hebrew, people are genuinely happy to try to assist me in my endeavours. In France, a very long time ago I had to ask for the head to be removed from some fish – the person spoke no English what-so-ever, and my French was slightly less dodgy than it is now – but with a ‘pas de tête’ accompanied by appropriate hand gestures (which made me feel like someone out of the French Revolution) it was mission accomplished. The man in the museum today to whom I said Shalom and Boker tov (and then had to assure it was still morning) came up to me later to say Good Afternoon and teach me how to say it too. Result! A new word for the vocab… and with that Laila tov to you all!