The Beauty Of Intent

Art in revolution is probably one of the most inspiring things one can come across in this world of casual monotony. Especially when you take it in the context of patriotism and systemic rebellion.

The Bengal School of Art began as an attempt to renew and rejuvenate Indian culture, history and nationality in order to bring about an increased fervor in the ideals of loyalty and nationalism. Gaining importance as an initiative that broke away from traditional academic art styles that had been prevalent previously, under the gentle urging of Abanindranath Tagore and other supporters like E.B. Havell, the Bengal School slowly rose to prominence and became a subtle companion to the Indian revolutionary movement against their British colonizers.

In order to fully protest against the distinct practices of the West, the direction slowly moved away from the traditional oil paintings and other subjects popular with both the Britishers and the previous generations, and towards ancient works of art and spirituality for both substance and material. Abanindranath Tagore especially turned towards Asian aesthetic, most notably Japan in his rejection of the British aesthetic in order to fully cement the art movement’s position as a rebellion against colonialism and traditional principle. Fully adopting the concepts of old Indian art and various forms of Asian expression, he recontextualized the entire thing and turned it into a form of modern art that is still regarded as one of the most influential movements in India today.

And as I stand in the center of this room in the National Gallery of Modern Art, surrounded by impeccable works of art standing as results of this very movement, I can’t help but marvel at the sheer passion that is poured into every single pencil line, every single brush stroke. But more than the beauty that I am encompassed by, it is more the history behind all these works that capture my attention and affection. It is the story of its beginning, written in patriotism and colored in revolution that brings me to an undeniable standstill. Because what is aesthetic when the intention behind its existence is more beautiful than its materiality?

Art, I think, is a wonderful modicum of expression. But it makes a transition from simply wonderful to overwhelmingly breathtaking when it finally makes you question everything you are, everything you see – when it actually makes you wonder about the significance of every single turn. Because its purpose is to express and it is what it expresses that ultimately stuns my very being.

And this is exactly why I hold the Bengal School of Art to such high regard. Because of its intent. Because of its purpose.

Because of its ability to question.