Neeraj Singh: Metamorphosis and Metamorphosis II

The thing I enjoyed most on my visit to Santiniketan this past December was the chance to tour its famed graphics department. Young artists Shaik Azghar Ali and Koustav Nag were kind enough to show me in, even though the art campus of Kala Bhavan was officially closed during the time of the Poush Mela (the annual music and craft fair that happened to coincide with my visit). Senior artist and educator Ajit Seal later joined us in the workshops of the graphics department and I felt fortunate that he took the time to share his wide knowledge of the school and its history with me.

From previous experience during my trip to the Faculty of Fine Arts in Baroda, I knew a collector enters territory fraught with ethical perils when venturing into the realms of academia. Word soon gets about that a "buyer" is in town, and students begin to queue up with hopes and expectations of both praise and sales. As much as visiting an art school can be a delight, and viewing the work of young printmakers can prove exciting, the experience can also prove an uncomfortable one. It's hard to know what to say to young people whose portfolios are obviously less than mature, or whose work seems lacking in direction or talent. A person finds his or herself smiling and nodding, offering mumbled non-committal comments such as "interesting" and silently wishing there might be a way to escape the polite viewing of more such work.

The most serious peril of all is the intrusion the collector makes between student and teacher. A particular favorite of the faculty's may seem unexciting and derivative to the collector, and conversely, a shy and overlooked student may catch the collector's eye as having a unique and genuine spark. Purchasing work during these encounters (or shortly after) can be interpreted as validation for some and insult to others. Teachers may feel their personal judgments have been snubbed, students may become disappointed and discouraged, while others may feel strangely embarrassed at having their work become the object of patronage. It is for these reasons that many art schools officially prohibit visits from dealers and collectors, though in others the practice is common.

What must always be remembered is that the sale of an artwork, and the judgments of collectors, critics, dealers, and curators are never infallible or absolute.

With this in mind I approach blogging the work of Neeraj Singh with trepidation. As a post-graduate student the young artist is said to be an extremely hard worker, spending long hours in the printmaking workshops during his free time. Neeraj hails from north of Ganganagar, on the border between Rajasthan and the Punjab. His passion is etching, which is actually an odd choice for a student working at Santiniketan, considering that its graphic department is most famed for instruction in lithography. Yet, to me, much of his etching work reflects a sophistication of concept and technical skill that is arresting in its promise and strength.

The etching above, printed with two conjoined plates (a seam is barely visible in the center) immediately brings to mind myths of transformation. Titled Metamorphosis, it recalls the tales of Greek and Roman myth penned by the poet Ovid in a book by the same name. Indeed, one can interpret the upright, bow-holding figure, as an aging and sag-breasted Diana (goddess of both the hunt and virginity/chastity). In Neeraj's depiction this oddly bald figure seems on the verge of emerging from a lustful and vulgarly long-tongued animal. A metamorphosis is taking place, though we are left wondering if the virgin hunter is emerging from, or descending into, the animalistic spirit that keeps four legs stubbornly upon the ground.



Metamorphosis II continues with the theme of human-animal linkage, suggesting once again that our proud notions of advancement, wisdom, and rationality are more held in the grip of animal instincts and evolutionary biology than we care to admit.

In an interview with the artist on the campus of Santiniketan, Neeraj Singh explained his preoccupation with the interplay between the conscious and the subconscious mind. He compares the mind to a fish, "You can never catch a fish, because it slips right out of your hands". This metaphor of the fish is evident if you look closely at the top etching Metamorphosis, in which a fish motif can be found in the background. Yet through his art Neeraj Singh seems not to be trying to catch the fish of the mind, but rather delighting in the mysteries of its wriggling incomprehensibleness.

To see a short video of my interview with the artist, please follow the link below:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FuL7Jwu_iqM


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