Abstract
Recensions
Recent Works of Niti Jain
“It struck me one day
that it was more interesting to think of modernism as a graph or
table than as history…(…the history of an ever more abstract
and abstracting opticality), that there was something to be gained
from exploring its logic as a topography rather than following the
threads of it as a narrative….”
Rosalind Krauss
“Diako — African-born
French artist displaying a selection of both abstract
and contemporary paintings online.”
Linkism-Art Directory through Google
This comment about Diako,
a Cameroon artist on the website, arrested my attention as I browsed
through the internet searching for contemporary abstract artists.
The manner in which this neat divide between abstract and contemporary
art was carried out was scandalous! Is abstract art a relic of obsolete
modernism and therefore banished from contemporary landscape of art?
Is abstraction the ‘other’ of contemporary art?
This false binary between
abstraction and contemporary art grossly misrepresents the contemporary
art world. Not only has abstraction made a worldwide comeback, mainly
in Australia, Canada, the United States and Europe, but offers itself
as a meaningful alternative to our mediascape, which is dominated
by images, narrative and news. In a world ruled by means-end rationality
and instrumental reason, abstraction lends itself to a variety of
new functions that contemporary times have ascribed to it: a way
to create a new-age spirituality, as for instance, in Marilyn Kirsch’s
Transcendental Minimalism or a new language of formal topography
with a built-in criticality towards urban detritus and environmental
degradation, as in the works of the Canadian, Christian McLeod. Abstraction
is certainly not a trend of the past, but that which is fast growing
in significance and visual appeal — almost a “cool” style,
attracting the upwardly mobile with a taste for the chic. Visit any
international art fair or biennale, there are bound to be eye-catching
corners that proudly display neo-abstraction in the form of geometric
shapes in dazzling colors, where minute attention is paid to the
two-dimensional surface.
Niti Jain’s canvases
are far too dense with gravitas and tied far too deeply with the
artist’s existential dilemmas and philosophical doubts to fit
into the category of the ‘cool abstract’. She is a painter
who stands on her own, totally secure in her own skin and her decision
to side with abstraction. Not duped by the art-world making a fetish
of the trendy and confusing the new with the important, she not only
embraces abstraction with a profound conviction Her colossal canvasses
offer you not just transcendental meditation but a phenomenal experience
through their sheer physical scale and theatrical interplay of colours.
The knobby or uneven surface almost takes the eyes on a bumpy ride
across the canvas, almost translating the visual impact into a kinesthetic
journey.
Seldom do paintings assail
you with their visual presence the way Niti’s large canvases
overwhelmed my senses when I first walked into her studio. Abstraction
in 20th Century western art had defined the very ethos of modernism,
well into 1950s abstract expressionism with Mark Rothko and Barnett
Neumann’s colour fields arousing a sublime and contemplative
reverence. Postmodernism has restituted the figurative and narrative
via the allegorical without fully turning its back on abstraction,
which is why Julian Schnabel could overlay broken crockery over explosive
narratives or Gerhard Richter could bring abstraction into the heart
of photographic images through blurring.
Abstraction in modern Indian
art
It is often believed that
abstraction and conceptual art failed to strike deep roots in 20th
Century Indian art and Indian imagery predictably
gravitated towards the figurative. Pure abstractionists, who have steered
clear of the figurative, are a rarity. Laxman Shreshtha and Prabhakar
Kolte are exceptions to the rule. Although Akbar Padamsee’s metascapes
, however fictitious, belong to the recognizable genre of landscape
painting and conjure up a possible world, it is the figurative that
has emerged as an enduring matrix in the majority of trends in modern
Indian art.
Perhaps this predilection
for the recognizable, the narrative and the imagistic is peculiar
to the Indian modern — a symptom of the colonial and postcolonial
condition —just as academic realism, enshrined in colonial
art schools, found its themes in stories from classical mythology,
best exemplified by Ravi Varma’s oil paintings, which fully
fitted the bill of the colonial imperative: Indian in subject matter
and European in form. It is a different matter how such a move by
Ravi Varma fortuitously sowed the seeds of cultural nationalism.
On India gaining political sovereignty, the urge to tell stories
took a modernist dimension when M F Hussain adapted the cubist vocabulary
to narrate stories from the epics in his bid to appropriate western
modernism. In the works of Nalini Malani, Vivan Sundaram, Ghulam
Sheikh and Bhupen Khakhar, narrativity took a postcolonial turn as
it opened up new vistas for the exploration of multiple stories unfolding
across complex palimpsests of time and space. Since then, abstraction
has sporadically hit the art scene, never really receding in importance.
For a brief spell during the 1960s, it translated into a trend that
received a strong indigenous stamp in the works of G R Santosh and
Biren De. Their abstractions had as their frame of reference the
Tantric iconography of mandalas and geometric diagrams.
Against the Grain: Nasreen Mohamedi and Gargi Raina
Our art schools impart training
to young artists on the basis of their technical mastery over plausible
representation. Any sign of interest
in abstraction tends to be stifled as laziness and a facile alternative.
It takes a certain audacity and deep conviction to tread the path of
abstraction in such a situation. Wider exposure to art schools in the
West at the right time could nudge young artists to opt for “the
path less trodden”. Nasreen Mohamedi was one such artist, who
very early in her career, declared her allegiance to abstraction on
conceptualism. Her linear abstractions and monochromatic grids on a
white surface were almost made in oblivion in the 1970s, when the dominant
trend was a kind of figurative narration that had its epicenter in
the Baroda Art School. But Nasreen continued working against the grain,
driven by her conviction and passion for the ineffable and the allusive,
which exceeded the plane of representation. Following on similar terrain,
Gargi Raina moved along the interspaces between pure abstraction and
literalism such that even the most austere linear diagram can find
a counterpart in reality in her series “Constructing the Memory
of a Room.”
What makes Niti Jain’s canvases different from that of her predecessors
and contemporary abstract artists in India is her modality of working
with coloured fields that create amorphous space and the intense visibility
of her brush strokes. They do not have the precision of Nasreen’s
gossamer web of dense lines or Gargi’s double-edged abstraction,
but revel in the grey areas between colours in an infinite grading
of tones and a sensuality of textures that protrude towards the viewer.
Banishing representation, Niti builds up a drama of colours, layer
by layer, until she reaches a point of saturation when either she declares
the work complete or risks an extra stroke that might disrupt its formal
balance. This could imply that she has to start all over again until
chromatic equilibrium is restored, which is precisely the manner in
which modernists in the past worked, from Cezanne, Matisse, Paul Klee
to Mondrian.
Does this mean that while
most contemporary artists move in the direction of installation art,
digital imagery and post-production art, Niti
Jain obstinately remains within the confines of easel painting, defying
the dictum of the times? Not really. Abstract painting in oils and
acrylics has made a recent comeback internationally, sometimes as a
retro style of early modernism. Much more heterogeneous than its earlier
manifestations in the works of Neumann and Rothko, this recent revival
of abstraction opens itself to a wide range of appendages that are
added from the real world — beads, threads, fabric, net, and
so on.
Meditations on the Medium
However, Niti exercises a more formal restraint on herself, and no
matter how experimental her application of colors may be, she cherishes
a certain purity of the medium. This purity extends not only to colours
and the medium, but to the pictorialism that lies at the basis of its
aesthetics. Eschewing even an oblique reference to narratives, the
color planes she creates conjure up a theatre of hues, strokes and
textures. At times, the vertical and horizontal strokes almost seem
to weave a textile of flat colours that display the favored modernist
metaphor of a grid; often, it reappears as a chequered pattern that
imbibes the quality of surreptitiously inscribed graffiti.
I find graffiti a useful trope
to understand Niti’s canvases,
even if they far exceed it in terms of their sophistication and formal
complexity. This is to differentiate her works from the different ways
in which abstraction has made a comeback in contemporary times, in
trends ranging from abstractions that relate to urban reality and topography
to those that veer towards minimalist decorativeness and chic patterns.
Mark-making powerfully differentiates Niti’s style of painting,
through which she develops an intimate and intense engagement with
the surface. From broadly applied paint and rough crosshatching to
her delicate final touches that bring about unexpected chromatic effects,
her mark-making studiously avoids the intrusion of the representational.
If one insists on reading nocturnal landscapes or surrealist apparitions
in them, it is simply the by-product of the complex modality of layering
and the onlooker’s predilection for reading the unfamiliar via
the familiar.
Abstraction and the Body
Quite early in her career
as an art student, the pedantic insistence on life study and still
life — the backbone of art pedagogy inherited
from colonial art schools — created in her a horror for figures
and the need to produce countless studies of human figure from a variety
of viewpoints and learn to make compositions out of multiple figures.
It was during her prolonged stint at the Slade, when she enrolled
for a course, that she was exposed to another art pedagogy that did
not enshrine the human figure as a point of departure.
Classes on experimental drawing
drew her attention to the world of objects —chairs, tables, windows and boats — and expanded
her horizon, giving her the freedom to play with scale. Rather than
observing a model posing on a chair, the tutors encouraged the students
to observe their own bodies, faces, hands and feet. Observing ones’ own
hands and feet from very close has the effect of fragmenting the body
into abstract patterns. This led her to experiencing her own body as
a part of the world! Her move to abstraction was not the result of
turning her back on the body, but channelizing through it to overcome
it. Abstraction became a point of arrival after experiencing the limits
of the finitude of the corporeal.
While this may have helped her to get over her fear of the genre of
the figurative, she began to develop a distaste for what passed for
fashionable postmodern trends in London galleries. Whether they were
the works of the YBA, young British artists or radical feminist shows,
their overt ideological agenda made Niti uneasy, just as the photorealism
that was on the rise failed to inspire her. Feminism had shifted from
the conceptual, as espoused by Mary Kelly a generation ago, to what
seemed like crass foregrounding of pornography and female orgasm.
Amidst the clamour for the
radical and rebellious, Niti’s decision
to move against the tide seems a statement of independence and an assertion
of calm self confidence. While abstraction marks her as different from
the abstract expressionist celebrating the gestural, she cherishes
accidents as part of creativity. In this respect, the term Tachism,
with its dictionary definition “action painting in which random
blotches of colour are used as a method of instinctive expression”,
could apply to her method of painting. In the throes of her compulsion
to append a title to a canvas, she admires early modernists such as
Kandinsky, who devised impersonal serialized titles such as composition
I, II, III, etc.
Does Niti side with the modernists
in their eschewal of the literary and overtly political ideology?
May be. Perhaps her paintings remain
confined within the formal logic of modernism and revel in an autonomous
domain of colors, lines and shapes. They inscribe the deeply personal
and experiential, which materializes through the poetics of color and
visual metaphors. Where she differs with the modernist idiom is in
her discomfort with the signature. This creates a painterly problem
for her — there never seems to be that perfect place for her
to sign, which will resonate with her work and not detract from its
visual efficacy! This perhaps best encapsulates her take on subjectivity — it
is not about loudly proclaiming her uniqueness as an artist, but a
quiet carving out of space for the personal, which accommodates the
aesthetic and the anti-aesthetic. Not all her canvases celebrate beauty
and harmony; there are some that create space for the discordant and
the dissonant. On a largely harmonious assemblage of dark and somber-coloured
shapes, a streak of jarring, chromium yellow or an iridescent blur
of shocking pink sometimes bursts into our roving eyes and checks their
linear progress! This formal ambiguity succeeds in not only adding
an extra dimension and unpredictability to her magisterial canvases,
but helps her to appropriate abstraction as a contemporary artist.
Parul Dave
Parul Dave Mukherji is a professor and teaches in the Department of
Visual Studies at the School od Arts and Aesthetics, Jawaharlal Nehru
University, New Delhi. Her area od interest spans pre-modern Indian
art and contemporary art and culture practices.
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