The Master of Murals

In art, the final chapter of an artist’s life is usually mytholo­gised, as if suggesting that creativity, when paired with longevity, can give birth to genius. While there may be some truth to this notion, one wonders why the world doesn’t emphasise enough on the portrait of an artist as a young man. A new exhibi­tion at the Kolkata Centre for Creativity (KCC) might help us gain some perspec­tive on the subject. Held in collaboration with Gallery Rasa, Scenes from Santiniketan & Benodebehari’s Handscrolls is an intrigu­ing invitation to ponder over some of the themes related to the formative genius of Benodebehari Mukherjee (1904 – 1980). In his memoir Chitrakar, Mukherjee reflects, “An artist gets his personal insight or basic inspiration quite early in his life,” further asserting, “it is thereafter enriched by experience and practice.” At the heart of this ongoing exhibition is the epony­mous handscroll depicting the spiritual landscape of Santiniketan, while the rest of the artworks provide a broader person­al and historical context. Richa Agarwal, chairperson of KCC says, “The Scenes from Santiniketan scroll not only points towards Benodebehari Mukherjee’s af­finity for the world of nature, which was to become an important subject in most of his works throughout his career but also marks his distinct difference from the Bengal School of Art. The exhibition also showcases his later works including the mural on the ceiling of Kala Bhavana hostel, which celebrates the trajectory of his artistic progress.”

What makes the handscroll Scenes from Santiniketan unique is that Mukherjee painted it at just 20. At 44.6 feet long, this particular work is among the earliest and largest handscrolls of this nature ever undertaken by the artist. It is being displayed for the very first time. With its deliberate choice of an austere colour palette (primarily, shades of ochre and olive green), the scroll evokes serenity — even as Mukherjee’s mature execution of the ink wash technique belies his youthful age. The show’s curator, R Siva Kumar, who is known for his extensive writ­ings on Mukherjee and his curatorial expertise on the Santiniketan School, describes the scroll as “an early and captivating masterpiece”.

In a telephonic interview from Santiniketan where he continues to live even after his retirement as art history teacher from Kala Bhavana in 2021, Kumar explains that back in the early 1920s, the Birbhum district had a different topography with fewer trees and shrubs and more arid fields. “This allowed for an unobstructed view of the entire landscape, making the handscroll an ideal format for capturing such panoramic images. What distinguish­es this particular scroll is that even though Benodebehari has done such work throughout his life, none of them encompasses such a gamut of natural elements that defines the rural life of Santiniketan. From arid areas and wood­lands to villages, Benodebehari weaves these various aspects into a single, comprehensive picture.” Landscapes are typically perceived as non-narrative but the handscroll format enabled artists like Benodebehari Mukherjee “to narrate the story of the nature around him through a seamless horizontal continuity.” Kumar perceives the act of browsing through a scroll as akin to a cinematic experience. “One views it like scenes of an absorbing journey,” he says, adding, “or to use another analogy, like the unfurling of a landscape viewed from a train window while you sit still on your seat.”

Drawn from East Asian traditions, handscrolls were commonly used in Kala Bhavana during the early 1920s. It is worth noting that Rabindranath Tagore, the visionary behind Visva-Bharati University, held a deep admiration for Japanese culture. Though it was Nandalal Bose, Mukherjee’s mentor at Kala Bhavana, who played a crucial role in popularising handscrolls following his visit to the Far East in 1924, Kumar maintains that ultimately Mukherjee emerged as the foremost exponent of this artistic medium. Collotype reproductions of the Japanese and Chinese handscrolls were available at Kala Bhavana’s library, thanks to Tagore and others who carried them back from their trips abroad and it was here that Mukherjee likely had his first brush with East Asian arts. Particularly, the Chinese handscroll was renowned for its intimate portrayal of both calligraphy and imagery. In contrast, the Japanese handscroll has a rich history as an art form well-suited for narrative-style paintings, and grand landscapes. Mukherjee’s trip to Japan and China in 1936-37 emphasises the influence of East Asian art on his career. Kumar says, “Among the Japanese artists, he was drawn to Sesshu Toyo and even the other Japanese painters he liked tended to work in a more Chinese manner.”

What sets Mukherjee apart in the pantheon of Indian modern art is his pioneering exploration of landscape art — a genre that was introduced to the subcontinent by itinerant European artists during the colonial era. “European landscapes typically presented picturesque views within a framed composition, whereas East Asian landscape handscrolls allowed for the portrayal of a place in its entirety. Benodebehari’s approach to landscape painting was unparalleled among Indian artists. Before him, few artists painted nature with such intensity of purpose as he did,” Kumar says. More intriguingly, unlike some of his contem­poraries (Nandalal Bose, for instance, espoused Gandhian ideals), Mukherjee eschewed the historical subject mat­ter, almost focussing exclusively on nature. Despite the fervour of the Indian independence movement reaching its peak in the 1930-40s when a majority of Bengal’s intelligentsia were involved in the nationalistic cause, Mukherjee remained largely isolated from the big political currents of his day.

Within this exhibition, Kumar also weaves a selection of Mukherjee’s other works. Among them is a reproduction of Scene in Jungle, which is currently in the Victoria and Albert Museum collection in London. Kumar has also assembled other scrolls and fragments of scrolls to “give a holistic picture of his use of this format.” No wonder, nature serves as a thread that binds them all together. “Nature reflected a state of mind for him,” he agrees, adding, “He was devoted to the study of nature from his younger days and remained a landscape painter from 1920 until 1942. Only after 1942 do we see figurative elements emerging in his work.”

Revisiting Mukherjee’s life, we learn that nature has always been his lifelong companion. Born in 1904 in Behala, a suburb of Calcutta, Benodebehari Mukherjee’s visual impairment hindered his ability to attend formal schooling. Since he was blind in one eye and myopic in the other, he is said to have experienced a lonely childhood. Deprived of friend­ship during his early years, he sought refuge in nature. Due to his unique circumstances, the 13-year-old was en­rolled in Rabindranath Tagore’s school at Santiniketan. Later, when Kala Bhavana was founded in 1919, he promptly moved there. Both Tagore and Nandalal Bose wanted to bring about educational reform by merging envi­ronmentalism with art and handicraft. Their pedagogical outlook undoubtedly influenced Mukherjee’s own creative process, empowering him with the freedom to pursue his true vocation. As Kumar points out, an abiding love for art and a spirit of creativity already ran in the Mukherjee family.

Like the Tagores, the large and mid­dle-class Mukherjee clan were rational­ists as opposed to being devout Hindus. They fostered a culture where children were encouraged to read literature rath­er than religious texts. Benodebehari Mukherjee, being the youngest among six brothers and two sisters, was greatly influenced by his elder siblings during his early years. One particular brother, Bijonbehari, was a mining engineer but maintained a lifelong passion for art. He introduced the young Mukherjee to the world of art. Before his time in Santiniketan, Mukherjee lived with his brother Banabehari, a doctor. During this period, Mukherjee and his brother Bimanbehari would venture out to the neighbouring riverbanks and forests. “Many of the things he saw in Pakshi and Godagadi were deeply etched in his mind. In fact, in his autobiographical writings, he describes some of those landscapes more vividly than the people he lived with,” Kumar says.

After graduating from Kala Bhavana, Mukherjee had the privilege of teaching at his alma mater from 1929 onwards. His students include the filmmaker Satyajit Ray and artist KG Subramanyan. Alongside his full-time teaching duties, he remained committed to his art. At Santiniketan, the famously reclusive artist proved himself to be a “master of murals”. After initially starting out assisting Nandalal Bose in murals within the Kala Bhavana premises, Mukherjee went on to produce his own impressive body of murals, such as Bhirbum Village (1940), Life on the Campus (1942) and Life of Medieval Saints (1946). Today, they are among his most widely regarded works, drawing art lovers from all over the globe to Santiniketan. The current exhibition features a reproduction of Bhirbum Village, offering a glimpse into how Mukherjee developed a distinctive style of mural-making, adorned with timeless natural motifs. “Landscape is seldom the subject of a mural and this is what makes Bhirbum Village extraordinary,” Kumar says. “It presents a comprehensive account of the local flora and fauna and of life in a Bengali village. Having no single orientation, it compels us to move and view it part by part like a handscroll— thus, giving the viewer an immersive experience of nature and can be seen as the culmination of his engagement with the landscape of Santiniketan.”

Despite suffering from poor eyesight throughout his life, Mukherjee perse­vered and painted what he could see. But in 1957, following an unsuccessful operation, he lost his vision entirely. Confronted by the need to awaken his ‘inner eye,’ he reached back into his soul to paint what he felt. Satyajit Ray, who had long admired Mukherjee, made The Inner Eye as a homage to his former teacher. The 1972 documenta­ry takes viewers inside the mind of a visually impaired artist, who embraces his condition as “a new feeling, a new experience and a new state of being.” Through Ray’s lens (and voiceover), we encounter Mukherjee exploring the creative powers of another medium— paper cut. Or “painting with scissors,” as Henri Matisse had called it. “Without the benefit of sight, Benodebehari translated the tactile experience of form and space into visual images using mass-produced coloured papers of limited and stand­ardised hues, which he manipulated using memory. Though his work looks similar in appearance to Matisse’s, they represent two different approaches and values.” History tells us that blindness does not—and should not—spell the end of imagination. Indeed, the loss of vision led Mukherjee from darkness to light and here, we find that his rebirth mirrors not Matisse but Claude Monet, who also lost his sight before discovering his third eye.

Mukherjee continued to experi­ment with paper cuts from 1958 until 1969. By the time he died in 1980 at age 76 he had lived in different places—Patna, Mussoorie, Nepal and Delhi where his daughter, the artist Mrinalini Mukherjee, stayed nearby. But it was Santiniketan that gave him the greatest intellectual nourishment, youthful memories and a sense of solace and home. This exhibition cele­brates that profound bond.

(Scenes from Santiniketan & Benodebehari’s Handscrolls is on display at Kolkata Centre for Creativity (KCC) till June 20)

artBenodebehari MukherjeehandscrollmuralsNatureSantiniketanSatyajit Ray