From Mud Walls to Museums: Mathila Women Paint Contemporary Issues
This is a paper I wrote in college.
It was because of two natural disasters that started the process of recognition Mathila Women Artists have today. In 1931 an earthquake struck the Northern Bihar region of India. Breaking open the mud homes of Mathila villagers, exposing the elaborate folk art on the walls within, a British officer, William Archer discovered their beauty (Davis, 82).There, in these cow dung and whitewash covered walls, were lovely and elaborate paintings of Hindu women’s ritual imagery related to life cycles and deities (Wadley, Mithila 13). Because of Archer’s education at Cambridge with an interest in post-impressionist art, he was able to appreciate and document his discoveries with great enthusiasm (Davis, 82).Caste plays an important part in Mithila painting, and Archer only photographed and wrote about the two highest castes of the region—“the Brahmin, or priestly, caste and the slightly lower ranking Kayastha, or accountant/scribe caste” (Wadley, Likhiya 4). However, as Mathila painting became more popular, the lower servant castes have been recognized as well.
The second natural disaster was a period of drought in 1966-67 that left that same region on the brink of starvation. Pupul Jayakar, a supporter of the Maithila culture introduced these women muralists to handmade paper encouraging them to paint their images on this new material. Within months, the paintings were displayed in India and abroad. Economic success afforded these artists to use their imaginations to expand painting to other subject matter beyond the original gods and goddesses and sacred symbolism (Tugores, 5). No one knows how old this art form is, though mention of these wall paintings is found in a second century religious text as well as in the Ramcaritmanas of Tulsi Das from the 1500’s. Ganga Devi, a famous artist who will be discussed later, asserts that “it was not until the mid-twentieth century that the Brahmans of the area started painting in what we know as the Mithila style” (Wadley, Mithila 13). There has been some debate about the age of this art form among scholars, as well as the original intent of traditional folk art, ethical questions of commodification, not to mention controversial images confronting abusive atrocities these women endure. One can sympathize with the view that there may be a potential loss of purity to folk traditions, but one must also look at the freedom the women have gained because of exposure to the world economy. After examining the works of 5 Mithila artists, one will agree the positive impact of world recognition has greatly improved not only their life, but that of Indian women as a whole.
Perhaps this region and its art hold so much power, because of its history of inhabitants. Located in northern Bihar and bordered by Nepal, the Mithila region is also known as Madhubani, which translates to “Honey Forest”. Its rich heritage boasts the births of the Buddha and his contemporary Mahavira, the founding father of Jainsm. Sita, a key character in a Hindu poem Ramanyana, is thought to have her home in Mithila (Wadley, Mathila 16). It is Hindu traditions that Mathila women draw from and paint on their mud walls. The images are painted as a form of visual prayer and consecration of their homes (Tugores, 2). To give an example of how these works may be misinterpreted, we look to an important room in the home known as kobhar-ghar, where the bride and groom spend their first night together. Some five to seven days before a young woman is married, she and her female kin and neighbors gather in this room and sing hymns in honor of the goddess, Shiva. Starting with a vermillion dot in the center of the wall, the most adept artist draws the outline of the lotus plant (Wadley, Mathila 13). Puren is the central focus, literally translated means “lotus leaf”. It may be surrounded by other pond life such as fish, turtles, blossoms, ants, worms, and the sun, to name a few (Brown, 719 & 728). Carolyn Henning Brown (1996) cautions scholars, not to analyze symbolism through Western male eyes, and hence attach those stereotypes to Mithila imagery (721). She speaks directly to the artists themselves. When Brown asked about the lotus leaf they replied,” Just as the seed of the lotus falls into the pond and produces many offspring, so must the bride and groom produce many children” (728). The Maithili word for placenta, nanpuren translates literally, “the lotus leaf of the navel”. In the puren painting there is a long pointed object, piercing the center of the circle of lotus leaf, misinterpreted by male scholars as a phallus. When Brown asked the women what the object was, they said, “That is the stem which roots the lotus leaf to the bottom of the pond.” The end is often personified with a face which represents the infant to be born from the marital union (Brown, 729). Scenes from Ramayana may unfold on adjoining walls. This ancient Sanskrit poem recounts the tale of Rama and Sita, the archetypal couple who led a life of self sacrifice and suffering for the sake of truth (Tugores, 2). Susan Snow Wadley (2013) corroborates the need for thorough scholarly investigation to Mathila arts. She suggests that scholars must be widely trained in South Asian studies, art history and religion “to decode the images of the deities and the stories contained in each image, and relate them to various textural traditions in Sanskrit, vernacular texts and oral stories”. She further states that “understanding the changes in Mithila art over the last eighty years also requires the skills of the historian, the anthropologist and the folklorist” (Likhaya, 3).
Since the author has none of the above listed credentials, contemporary artists voices are will be used as authority. Since the mid-sixties, until today Mithila art has been increasingly professionalized, finding its way to the public through ethnic arts organizations, women’s organizations, and shown in galleries and museums. These works have been included as illustrations on book covers and on gift cards through organizations such as UNESCO (Brown, 720). Now, these folk paintings are showing considerable changes in content due to commercialization. Where one could see images of gods, goddesses, saints and mythological stories, artists are painting images to adapt to global trends and the those markets. Many Indian folk arts have barely survived into the 20th century, but those in Mathila are focusing on new themes, even social justice topics for their painting, keeping their art form alive and growing with the times (Wadley; Lekhiya, 2).
Ganga Devi, a renowned painter, turned to Ramanyana when she was deserted by her husband. Sita, too, was banished by Rama when the people whispered charges against her. Ganga Devi became barren after having only one daughter who died. Her husband’s sisters-in-law forced her husband to take a second wife. The second wife and her husband then turned on Ganga Devi, leaving her only with a few grains of rice she used to worship Shiva. In response, she created the whole story of Ramanyana in two large paintings (Wadley, Mathila 17). This incident was a turning point in her life and shares her painful experience, “My eyes got shut, the world was shut off, and there was darkness all around. I felt as if I had arrived in hell” (Davis, 91). She considered ritual suicide but thankfully decided to make a pilgrimage to the holy place on the Ganges and vowed a month-long fast. At this point she made a decision that she would make her way in the world by her own hands. She moved out of her husband’s house and partnered with a friend and an established painter, Shakti Devi. This led to more misery as her friend exploited Ganga Devi and left her humiliated and impoverished (Davis, 91). Her fortune soon turned around when Shakti was exposed and Ganga was recognized for her talent. She received commissions, worked hard, won awards and was invited to participate in worldwide shows. Jyotindra Jain, a senior director of the Crafts Museum in Delhi knew Ganga Devi well and quotes her here:
Once I told my husband: “We should keep contact otherwise the bastinwallas [neighbors] will think badly of you.” But he said: “I married a second time because I did not like you. I will not let you live here.” His younger brother kept me in his house; I worked there. But everyone in the basti advised me not to work so hard. They said I should go to Chatara and live there comfortably with my brothers. I said: “Even if I have to beg, I will live here. By living here I suffer pain, but only in pain will God appear to me. In my brother’s house there is wealth and comfort. In comfort I will forget God. I will stay here.” (Davis, 92)
Mithila women rarely make their own life decisions, because their lives are defined by their parents and then their in-laws. They paint about this lack of control, other issues such as social and economic inequalities, seclusion, dowry and dowry deaths, and childbirth preferences to sons (Wadley, Likhiya 10). Ganga Devi made her choice, in a choice less situation, and chose suffering which clearly has value to her.
Dulari Devi, a lower caste servant created two paintings about economic discrimination. In one painting she portrays a mother with a sick baby, being refused entry to a health clinic, unable to pay the bribes. In another painting entitled, “The Rich Flee from the Flood while the Poor Collect and Mourn the Dead,” shows exactly that (Wadley, Likhiya 10). Supriya Jah produced a painting entitled “Corruption”, a social critique on Indian politics. In a four scene narrative that is bordered by snakes representing evil, she shows simple everyday examples. In the first section a trucker bribes a guard to get onto a closed road, the second section illustrates a teacher reading the paper instead of teaching, the third section a train station is closed when it should be open, and in the fourth section a man bribes the doctor to assure his wife’s treatment (Wadley, Likhiya 11). Clearly in both of these artists’s lives represent road blocks and economic discrimination that inhibit rights and activities westerners take for granted. We have disaster relief organizations and government supplemental health care, and we simply trust that our school and transportation systems will be working and open to the public.
Two major forms of discrimination against females in India are disfavor of girl children and mistreatment of brides. Daughters in contrast to sons are thought to be expensive because of dowry costs and lower potential to earn income. Even though the bride is thought to “represent Ladshmi, the goddess of prosperity, she is also blamed for any misfortune that befalls her new husband’s family. This disfavor of females leads to two practices that are increasing in modern India: the neglect of young female children or sex-selective abortion (female feticide) and bride-burning” (Wadley, Likhiya 12). Rani Jha, who recently received her Ph.D. from Dharbhanga University, painted a response to such discrimination in 2003. The painting shows a transformation from student to bride. In the lower panel is young unmarried college students while the other panel shows a bride locked inside, only able to peer out behind bars (Wadley, Likhiya 11). In 2004 she painted a response to female feticide, portraying an abortion clinic (Wadley, Likhiya 12). In 2010, Rani Jah painted a transformative image entitled, “Before We Could Only Peek Through the Curtain: Now Together We are Breaking Through the Curtain.” It shows only the eyes of women behind the curtain, while a group of four women ripping open the curtain with their hands (Wadley, Likhiya 11). Through art making these women are empowering themselves not only economically but psychologically, by visualizing a new future. Roopan Kumari made a six-part painting entitled “From Marriage to Bride Burning”, the final scene is a husband pouring kerosene over his wife while her mother-in-law lights a match. It is estimated that 8,000 dowry deaths in India occurred in both 2007 and 2008, despite the passage of the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act in 2005 (Wadley, Likhiya 14). Certainly more needs to be done, but one questions, had it not been for the commercialization of these artists, would the world know this much? Gaining a broader audience, through art, means a stronger impact to these issues, that could catalyze real change. Not only reflecting the issues in their native land, they are adapting the Madhubani style to other matter pertinent to other countries. Ganga Devi for instance has done an “American Series”, including a painting of the Washington Monument. In a portion of this painting a disembodied hand emerges from a brick cubicle holding a rectangular green bill. “In America,” offers the artist, “often you do not have a direct contact with the people. Mostly, a hand comes out of a counter or a window, takes
away your money and after awhile comes out again to hand you your ticket. You do not see the person; you deal with the hand” (Davis, 93). Food for thought and a sharp commentary on our own culture! Another series that Ganga Devi explored, that affects us all around the world is her “Cancer Series”. Having had cancer, she drew from her own suffering once again, using art as therapy for herself and her viewers (Davis, 91). Through this artist more than others, Ganga Devi’s art has evolved from mud chamber walls to personal narratives, and is certainly a testimony to the liberating and lasting effect of global exposure and recognition.
Works Cited
Brown, Carolyn Henning. "Contested Meanings: Tantra and the Poetics of Mithila Art." American Ethnologist 23.4 (1996): 717-37. American Anthropological Association, Nov. 1996. Web. 05 Dec. 2012.
Davis, Richard H. "From the Wedding Chamber to the Museum." What's the Use of Art? : Asian Visual and Material Culture in Context. N.p.: University of Hawaii, 2007. 77-99. Ebrary. Mercyhurst University. Web. 10 Dec. 2012.
Tugores, Mathais. "Of Mud and Paper." World and I 11.9 (1996): 206 (printed pgs. 1-6). Millitary and Government Collection. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.
Wadley, Susan Snow. "Likhiya: Painting Women's Lives in Rural North India." Globalizing South Asia. N.p.: ME Sharpe, 2013. N. pag. Print. This is a tentative title to a book not yet published. Text emailed to me by Professor Wadley, Syracuse University, Dec. 8, 2012. Printed pages numbered 1-15.
Wadley, Susan Snow. "Mithila Paintings." Beneath the Banyan Tree: Ritual, Remembrance, and Storytelling in Performed North Indian Folk Arts : 17 November 2002-6 January 2003, Joe and Emily Lowe Art Gallery. Syracuse, NY: School of Art and Design, College of Visual and Performing Arts, Syracuse University, 2002. 12-19. Print.