SRI
AUROBINDO AS AN ART CRITIC
A. RANGANATHAN
Like Ananda Coomaraswamy, his contemporary, Sri Aurobindo was a sensitive interpreter of Indian culture who played many Intellectual parts during the Indian Renaissance. If Coomaraswamy’s earlier work may be said to give aesthetic expression to the forgotten night of India’s soul, some of Sri Aurobindo’s poems as well as essays on Indian culture, reflect its intimations of the new dawn. Coomaraswamy is a scholar-critic, Sri Aurobindo an essentially scholar-poet. The former redirected criticism to fundamentals and significantly to a fresh scrutiny of the classics of Indian aesthetics. And Sri Aurobindo revealed the subtlest meanings of Vedic thought and sensibility. But the two philosophers are alike in seeing plainly into the clear depths of India’s soul.
Paradoxically enough,
Sri Aurobindo’s reputation as an art critic is based on his reply to Mr.
William Archer’s criticism of Indian art. Equally paradoxical is the fact that
the memory of this obscure English critic lives in Sri Aurobindo’s pages! Sri
Aurobindo not only castigates Mr. Archer with his characteristic thoroughness,
but raises the discussion to a higher level. Time and again, one lights on
trenchant comments such as these: “….Indian Poets and authorities on art have
given…….the simile of the lion, and lo and behold Mr. Archer Solemnly
discoursing on this image as a plain proof that the Indian people were only
just out of the semi-savage state!......I presume, on the same principle and
with the same stupefying ingenuity he would find in Kamban’s image of the sea
for the colour and depth of Sita’s eyes clear evidence of a still more
primitive savagery and barbaric worship of inanimate nature, or in Valmiki’s
description of his heroine’s ‘eyes like wine’, Madirekshanaa, evidence of a
chronic inebriety and the semi-drunken inspiration of the Indian poetic mind.
This is one example of Mr. Archer’s most telling points.….” Again, “mark the
curious misreading of the dance of Shiva as a dance of Death or Destruction,
whereas anybody ought to be able to see who looks upon the Nataraja it
expresses on the contary the rapture of the cosmic dance with the profunditites
behind of the unmoved eternal and infinite bliss. The Kalasamhara Shiva is
supreme not only by the majesty, power, calmly forceful control, dignity and
kingship of existence which the whole spirit and pose of the figure visibly
incarnates–that is only half or less than half its achievement–but much more by
the concentrated divine passion of the spiritual overcoming of time and
existence which the artist has succeeded in putting into eye and brow and mouth
and every feature and has subtly supported by the contained suggestion, not
emotional, but spiritual, of every part of the body of the godhead and the
rhythm of his meaning which he has poured through the whole unity of this
creation.”
Concerning the
significance of Indian art as a whole, “its highest business,” said Sri
Aurobindo, consists in disclosing “something of the Self, the Infinite, the Divine
to the regard of the soul, the Self through its expressions, the Infinite
through its living finite symbols, the Divine through his powers.” And since
the ultimate goal of the Indian artist is to catch a glimpse of the reality
that lies behind the flux of phenomena, it is clear that the visual conception
of Indian art is derived from the expression of abstract thought. In other
words, the Indian mind looks for reality in the realm of ideas rather than in
the world of objects, in the abstract rather than in the concrete. This could
be illustrated with a few examples. Consider the image of Nataraja, in which
every part is expressive; yet its fundamental rhythms and perspectives of
proportion symbolize the transformation of the concept of infinite energy into
a cosmic setting of infinite repose. It is a plastic view of an entire
philosophy of the interplay of opposites which not only brings out the rhythmic
nature of the creative process but also attempts to catch a glimpse of the
reality that lies behind the appearance of things. Again the Buddhist frescoes
of Ajanta and that truly memorable sculptural representation of
Mahishasuramardini in rock at Mahabalipuram depicting the slaying of
Mahishasura are essentially idealistic In aim, although realistic in execution.
This ideal is even more clearly reflected in the Indian conception of painting
as visualized music. Each painting is an interpretation in form and colour of a
particular raga or ragini. Similarly on listening to the particular raga or
ragini, one can recall the particular painting. This peculiarity in Indian
practice of weaving music and painting into a stylistic pattern of aesthetic
harmony illustrates the Indian ideal of perceiving reality in the realm of
ideas.
Sri Aurobindo’s
collection of essays on The Foundations of Indian Culture is significant
in the present context not only because Sri Aurobindo’s thought has a
particular affinity to Coomaraswamy’s but also because he belonged to the
charmed circle of Coomaraswamy, Tagore, Havell and Cousins who provided a
much-needed aesthetic corrective to the one-sided approach of the professional
politician during the age of Indian nationalism. “The spirit of old Indian art”
cried Sri Aurobindo at a pitch which was at once inspired and nostalgic “must
be revived, the inspiration and directness of vision which even now subsists
among the possessions of the ancient traditions, the inborn skill and taste of
the race, the dexterity of the Indian hand and the intuitive gaze of the Indian
eye must be recovered and the whole nation lifted again to the high
level of the ancient culture–and higher.” Again he emphasized that the system
of education which, instead of keeping artistic training apart as a privilege
for a few specialists, frankly introduces it as a part of culture no less
necessary than literature or science, will have taken a great step
forward in the perfection of national education and the general diffusion of a
broad-based human culture.
Sri Aurobindo explained the meaning of his aesthetic creed in this metaphysical strain: “…..that will be the highest and most perfect art which, while satisfying the physical requirements of the aesthetic sense, the laws of formal beauty, the emotional demand of humanity, the portrayal of life and outward reality, as the best European art satisfies these requirements, reaches beyond them and expresses inner spiritual truth, the deeper not obvious reality of things, the joy of God in the world and its beauty and desirableness and the manifestation of divine force and energy in phenomenal creation.” I think the breaking-point of Sri Aurobindo’s critical attitude lies in his facile assumption that European art is inferior to Indian art, because of the absence of these criteria. It is clear from the foregoing analysis that Sri Aurobindo’s idealization of Indian art at the expense of European art was based on some of the ideas which he formulated during the ‘Swadeshi’ phase of his career. Interestingly enough, Sri Aurobindo’s approach had a profound impact on the Indian art criticism of the time. Indeed Sri Aurobindo’s approach was continued in Dr James H. Cousins’s exposition under the terms ‘Bengal School’ and ‘Western art’, to the latter’s disadvantage, naturally. For example, Dr Cousins commented: “The present confusion in art outside India arises from the exhaustion of the eye and the lower emotions. This exhaustion cannot be relieved through fantastic variations of the things seen and felt, such as has been attempted by the Cubists, Futurists and similar groups of Revolutionaries in art: it can only be relieved by raising of the consciousness of the artist to a higher level, the level of the spirit. This, the work of the Bengal School is helping to do.” And it was during this point of time that Dr Ananda Coomaraswamy restored a sense of aesthetic perspective. As Coomaraswamy has put it: “There has been a revival or painting in Bengal, inspired by Abanindranath Tagore and his brother, nephews of the well-known poet. But important as this movement has been, its main significance belongs to appreciation rather than production. It may be compared rather to the work of the pre-Raphelites than to that of the great post-Impressionists–the time for these has not arrived.” This said, one gratefully admits that everything Sri Aurobindo says on art is expressed with brilliance and wit. Here the important point to be noted is that the major premises of a culture must be grasped before one can apply an accurate terminology to the concerned art. In the ultimate analysis one can perceive in the wider mutations of history the same great cycle and sub-cycles of Indian art that are characteristic of other artistic cycles. There is an initial creativity characterized by reserve and power together with a primitive awkwardness; a period of the flowering of the aesthetic imagination in which the earlier plastic amplitude is rendered with easier movement, classical grace and cultivated charm; a period of gradual decline when the original signature of craftsmanship is reduced to a mere scrawl; a Rococo period of subtle intricacy in which form is subordinated to ornament and finally when accuracy is at a discount. The latest phase of the modem idiom in art ranging from the surrealistic fantasies of Klee’s drawings to the intense paintings and drawings of Barbara Hepworth is perhaps not strictly represented in India. But the point worth stressing is that these stylistic sequences are not merely of artistic significance, but actually correspond to the parallel crisis in the sociological, religious, cultural and political history of the human race.
Sri Aurobindo from the
beginning of his career as an expositor of Indian culture was not only
concerned with the symbolism of Indian art, but also with the symbol of dawn in
Vedic ontology. In fact his unique distinction lies in his translation of some
of the Vedic hymns. Incidentally Coomaraswamy has argued in A New Approach
to the Vedas that a deeper understanding of the Vedas is possible only from
the point of view of the history of religion. The Vedas have been interpreted
in the past as a system of rituals in the light of Sayana’s commentaries or as
a naturalistic body of knowledge by Western scholars. Sri Aurobindo, however,
has interpreted the Vedas in their esoteric sense. As he observed, the Vedic chants
“are episodes of the lyrical epic of the soul in its immortal ascension.”
Perhaps Sri Aurobindo’s interpretation of Agni as the spiritual fire in matter,
is a key to his aesthetics.
“I cherish God the Fire,
not God the Dream!” exclaims Savitri
“A fire to call eternity
into Time
Make body’s joy as vivid
as the soul’s.”
Again, the legend of
Savitri took Sri Aurobindo back to the Vedas, where it was a feminine principle
sustaining the universe. In the Mahabharata, it was a symbol of the victory of love
over death. Sri Aurobindo imparts to the legend a contemporary aesthetic
relevance by projecting it as a symbol of the conquest of darkness by light, of
ignorance by knowledge. Here Savitri symbolizes the birth of new knowledge in
man. For Sri Aurobindo’s concept of the new dawn unveils vistas of Ahana and
Usha in an expanding horizon of aesthetic consciousness. And the totality of
aesthetic effect in Sri Aurobindo’s epic Savitri reminds one of his own
suggestive lines in Urvasie.
“... ... ... ...as if a
line
Of some great poem out
of dimness grew
Slowly unfolding into
perfect speech.”
“To get in contact with the Divine Consciousness
and to live in its mercy, its strength and its light is the only true effective
way to get out of this difficulty and suffering. And by uniting with the
psychic we can obtain this condition. My help and blessings are with you for
this purpose.”
–Mother