Believing is Seeing: an Exploration of Aesthetic Darshan

The Lives of Indian Images
Richard Davis

Richards Davis presents much food for thought in his book “The Lives of Indian Images” (or at least in the first 5 chapters thereof). I would actually be quite interested in reading his concluding section “Identities and Manifestations” at some point. Antonija, I believe you actually bought the book -- can you hook it up? Although chapters 2-5 (respectively, “Trophies of War”, “Images Overthrown”, “Vi·nu’s Miraculous Returns”, “Indian Images Collected”) contain much (often disturbing, with respect to looting, desecration, etc) food for thought, what interests me most are the themes laid out in the introductory chapter, “Living Images”. This chapter focuses on a medieval south Indian bronze sculpture of the Hindu god êiva in his V¨·abhavŒhaöa (the “bull-vehicled” one) form, along with that of the god’s consort PŒrvat´, which made their way in 1985 to appear in a museum showing in Washington, D.C. The images were far removed from their time, place, and culture of origin (the êvetŒraöya·vara Temple of early 11th century C.E. Tiruvengadu), and as such are received quite differently than their initial emergence as objects of Medieval Indian devotional worship.

Interestingly, the purpose of the Washington showing, as per curator Pramod Chandra, was “to give the viewer an impression of Indian sculpture as a whole, in all rich diversity of idioms that flourished in the ancient regions of the country…[and]…to convey a sense of the contribution of Indian sculpture to the common artistic heritage of mankind” (17). Clearly, in the eyes of this curator at least, the sculptures of êiva V¨·abhavŒhaöa and PŒrvat´, were objects of art. They were contributions to the artistry of our race, not the religiosity thereof. Their function here is primarily an aesthetic one. This clearly was not always the case. Although their aesthetic element is undeniably present, it was not their primary feature or purpose. The social, cultural, religious context of their origin so differs from our current one with respect to ideology (attitudes towards divinity, sacred-secular divide, etc). Davis does a good job of contrasting the extent to which the temple reception of these objects differ from their museum reception.

Davis mentions that the §iva liºga usually stands at the “physical and conceptual centre of the temple” representative of the “root manifestation (mèlamèrti) of divinity [i.e.,] the emanating source of all other anthropomorphic images in the temple” (19). Usually, in our culture, the “centerpiece” (of a table, etc.) is of augmented aesthetic appeal. One elects the most pleasing object for the centerpiece. But, in this context, clearly the centrality of the liºga §iva is not based on an aesthetic component, since this smooth simple piece of stone aesthetically dims in comparison to, say, the highly ornate sculpture of êiva V¨·abhavŒhaöa. There does indeed seem to be a greater “appeal” to the liºga, but it is not an aesthetic appeal, but, rather, a religious (i.e., theological) one. It appeals to devotees of êiva along the same lines as does the sculpture (both being to differing extents representative of the god’s unmanifest aspect). So, we can conclude, based on the relative lack of artistry inherent in the more-appealing liºga, that the appeal of the value and appeal of the sculpture far transcends its artistic dimension. As Davis demonstrates, for South Indian êaivites, this is far more than a “visual object only to be savored aesthetically”. It was along the religious hierarchy, not the aesthetic one, that the objects in the temple were placed, “emanating outward from the liºga that embodies êiva in his highest from” (19). Clearly the object here is regarded in a wholly different fashion than as a “contribution of artistry of our race”.

Our complex framing of cultural assumptions and ideals (dispensations as Davis calls them, 21), clearly interfere with how we regard these objects. That being said, what can we infer about the different receptions in the museum and in the temple? Does the regard for the êiva sculpture (and all other like it) as an object of sacred significance mean that notion of the aesthetic in that world (11th century South India) are necessarily religious? Does, then, the de-emphasis of the ritual dimensions to such object, emphasizing, rather, the aesthetic and artistic presence, constitute violence towards the cultural contexts which produced these object? After all, it is safe to conclude that sculptures of this kind were created with the intention of worship, much like the trees, who were venerated even before they were chopped down, the same from whom the priests required permission before chiseling them into deities. I’m tempted to think that in looking at these works isolated form their ‘sanctified’ contexts, we must do so employing some sympathy or reference to the worlds which created them.

One of the way in which we can cultivate sympathy when we take sight of, say, êiva V¨·abhavŒhaöa, is to be mindful of the transcendent-immanent tension ascribed to divinity in this context. It is much easier for us to regard object irreverently, since we partake in a culture whose notions of divinity, when present, are necessarily a transcendent divinity. I have was quite interested in Davis’ discourse on the paradoxical aspects of divine as unmanifest (as purported in Upanishadic texts) and manifest (as prevalent in puranic/agamic texts) interesting and relevant to other modes of appreciating these objects of art/worship. These are living images. êiva lives in that sculpture. As difficult as it may be for us to process along those lines, we must acknowledge the fact that than object for the countless individuals having behold them in times past. These were access points into a theological and metaphysical reality: these are immanent portals of transcendent divinity. These are not mere idols, or objects of arts, these are, in the eyes of many, manifestations of an “unfathomable, indescribable incomparable, without defect, subtle, pervasive, eternal, firm, imperishable, lordly” Absolute. Even if we, the modern beholder, do not subscribe to any theological school, it is imperative that we are mindful of the schools of thought prevalent to those creating and utilizing these objects. We will never be able to enter into their original dispensation, but we should at least strive to become aware of it. In viewing these objects, there’s clearly more than “one kind of looking” possible: we will never know what the ancients saw, but we can at least become acquainted with what we don’t see.