Chandramohan: Mask

The artist's full name is Srilamanthula Chandramohan, though in India it is simply the name Chandramohan that resonates through the art and political communities. Anyone with a bit of memory will recall the controversy that broke out at the Faculty of Fine Arts, MSU, Baroda, during May of 2007. It was a controversy that pitted the idea of "the right to freedom from religious offense" against the fundamental right of "freedom of expression". The ramifications of the controversy that Chandramohan's work sparked are still being felt in India today.

For those outside of India who may not know the full story, I can only give the briefest synopsis. In May of 2007 the Faculty of Fine Arts mounted an annual exam for its postgraduate students that took the form of an exhibition. There has been much debate in the media about whether or not this "examination exhibition" was intended to be open for public viewing, but the fact remains that members of the public did see the show, and that various members of the community, most notably a Methodist minister and various BJP activists, strongly protested that Chandramohan's exhibited works were offensive to both Hinduism and Christianity.

As demands for censorship grew, media coverage fanned a politically explosive fire. The exhibition was closed. India's art community rallied to Chandramohan's side (by this time he had been briefly detained in jail and charged with offending religious sensibilities) and a large group of FFA students, among others, mounted vocal and and also visual protests in his defense. One of the proposed protests was the organization of an exhibition on the FFA campus of photographs taken of traditional Hindu erotic sculpture. Most of these photographs faithfully captured the forthright erotic sculptures that adorn the Hindu temple of Khajuraho, an Indian archeological treasure and World Heritage Site. In spite of the exhibition's use of traditional Hindu erotic representation, the Dean of the Faculty of Fine Arts, Shivaji Panikkar, was asked by the MSU Chancellor (who was under political pressure) to prohibit the opening of the protest exhibition. Dean Panikkar quite courageously refused, and as a result he remains suspended from his job and indefinitely barred from the FFA campus.

The closure of the annual examination exhibition, the confiscation of Chandramohan's works, the censorship of the attempt at organizing an erotic-themed protest exhibition and the suspension of Dean Shivaji Panikkar remain sore points to many of those involved. Fairly recent talks that I had with students and faculty in Baroda revealed a sense of dismay at the resultant political football that the "Chandramohan show" came to be. I was told that the aftereffects included the loss of some of the FFA's best teachers, a hitherto unheard-of scrutiny of the FFA by both politicians and the media, and a general sense of being boxed within a prison of self-censorship for fear of political reprisals. The loss of Dean Panikkar, a much-loved and respected educator, was mourned by all.

I confess that I have never seen the works that set off this firestorm. Written descriptions of them have always sounded sensationalized, and I am well aware that a verbal or written description of an artwork can make it sound far more scandalous than it might appear in real life. My American background makes it hard for me to comprehend the fact that the Indian Constitution prohibits the offending of religious sensibilities (we have no such clause in the US Constitution) and my strong inclination is always to error on the side of free speech. As Salman Rushdie has said, "What is freedom of expression? Without the freedom to offend, it ceases to exist."

Indeed, if we as individuals...let alone artists...are to live our lives in fear of offending someone, somewhere, there will eventually be less and less that we feel free to say. What particularly perplexes me is the special "freedom from offense" that is granted to "religious feeling". Just what makes religion...by definition a set of beliefs which have a basis in faith rather than reason...above the realm of argument, debate, criticism, or even, according to some, mere alternative interpretations?

Srilamanthula Chandramohan is yet another printmaker who began his career in the south. Taking a Bachelor of Fine Arts in painting at Jawaharlal Nehru Technological University in Hyderabad, he continued his studies by working for a Master of Fine Arts degree in graphics at MSU. That degree has yet to be bestowed due to the aforementioned political controversy. In spite of this, Chandramohan has gone on to win various national awards, including First Prize at the 2009 Bhopal Bienniale.

I saw Mask by Chandramohan at the first solo exhibition of his work to be held since the political explosion in Baroda. Sadly, the Indian government prohibited the artist from attending his own show (it was held in Bangkok due to the still politicized nature of exhibiting his work in India). The artist's passport was refused on the basis that his case had yet to be brought to closure in the Indian courts.

For me, Mask exemplifies the dual concerns that embroiled the artist in this web of controversy: sexuality and religion. The woodcut/etching (it is a mixed-method print) is typical of Chandramohan's work from 2006 through 2008. Like many of the printmaker's images from these years, it depicts a nude man with arms raised aloft...a gesture that can indicate surrender, vulnerability, victimization or, as in the case of Mask, direct reference to crucifixion. But raised arms can also be a gesture of euphoria, and this image makes us wonder if the grimness of this "mask" belies a variant emotion beneath. Indeed, semi-obscure acts of sexual frolic can be deciphered in the background. Our eyes themselves are briefly deceived by the strong patch of green that arcs above this naked man's crotch. We are tricked into imagining it a phallic reference, when in fact it is but the side and arm of another, smaller, male figure diving to the left. The true phallus of Chandramohan's masked man lies below, darker and less visible.

The technical virtuosity alone is enough to make us ponder before Mask for long moments. The imagery of suffering, or mock suffering (depending on how you choose to read it), captures us with questions that need answering. The frolicking sexuality of the piece, jarringly coupled with reference to an archetypal image of both agony and redemption, creates an even deeper enigma.

And I think this is what the moralists and political dogmatists do not get about art. Powerful art so often arises from images with multiple, or even conflicting, interpretations. Artists tend not to see the world in polar extremes of good verses bad and beautiful verses ugly. They are sensitive enough to discover a soft caress in a thorn and a stinging hurt withing the pinks of a rose. Such sensitivities evade the more literal minded, the people who need long lists of "rights" and "wrongs" in order to guide their lives. People who fail to recognize the relevance of dreams or the complex symphonies of human emotions seldom truly appreciate art. If they do not outright dismiss art, they are prone to misinterpret it, or worse, pass hasty judgment upon it.

I am happy to have added Mask to my collection. I can only hope that the students and teachers of the Faculty of Fine Arts, Baroda, will soon find the ability to once again explore creative expression without fear and intimidation.