Read about: RE-BIRTH - The Art of K. Benitha Perciyal

RE-BIRTH
The Art of K. Benitha Perciyal

It is hard to believe that eight years have passed since I first met Benitha Perciyal at Lalit Kala Akademi in Chennai. She was an immediately impressive artist, able to articulate through her work and through her words her artistic message. This combination is actually rather rare. This exhibition at The Noble Sage charts the changes of Perciyal's work from 2004 to 2008, a seminal period in her career so far. The earliest piece from this first visit to Chennai is 'Nothing Else' (2004). As was often the case back then, her art had a rawness of approach, her self-portraits owning a dark edge and a self-exploitative element. In this work for example, one sees Perciyal use texture to convey the closeness of bone beneath her face's skin. The effect is eerie, as if we are undressing her face with our eyes, yet the portrait shows the artist peaceful.  

As Perciyal has explained in interview, she has always felt neglected. Making herself the subject matter of her work made and continues to make great sense. In her changing work she is constantly revising the meaning of self-portraiture, stretching its boundaries to include exploration of her physiology, her mental state, her personal growth, her soul and spirituality, her role in society and indeed her sense of what it is to be a woman. 

Perciyal has often used (loosely) loaded motifs such as 'the seed' and indeed this is a form that binds this exhibition. In 'Untitled' (2006) a pod of seeds is meticulously created within the central varnished silhouette of Perciyal herself. We see the seeds before we see her perhaps implying that we are literally our years of growth and change. Seeds also divide the portrait in 'Sketchbook Series' III (2006). Here used in a patterned manner, we start to see Perciyal's artistic attention to detail and decoration combined with her stylised and simplified silhouette form. We also see the artist's interest in organic materials and media. Her interest since 2006 has been to work as much as possible with naturally-born media (the colour created from soil, cardamom, saffron, ground leaves etc) on naturally-made materials such as handmade paper or other surfaces and fabrics she has collected on her numerous trips abroad and throughout India. In some ways the material individuality of these substances and materials appear to be the only way that the artist can articulate her own make-up and self. 

The subject of her body, on a molecular level, as a woman in particular, and also indeed physiologically in relation to the psyche, is considered and explored in many of the examples from 2007. In 'Diptych' (2007) Perciyal examines her internal space and relates it to a vessel. The structure of the skeleton is notably erroneous indicating something greater than the mere physicality of our bodies and hinted at in the soulful glow of the contents of the bottle in the counter image. In 'Endless Loop' (2007) her own female reproductive organs are described subtly, again relating imagery in form to seeds but also cells and DNA. The subtly of imagery is astonishingly effective. We cannot help but look inside the artist and invade her privacy. The title likewise suggests ideas like the circle of life, inevitability of motherhood  and indeed the certainty of maturity and death. 'Untitled' I (2007) again looks at her anatomy, reconfiguring her body, making herself stand out as different from everyone else. This is an evocation of selfhood and individuality.              

Perciyal's spiritual values and their effect on her body is also conveyed in some of her works from this year. One is drawn in particular to 'Without a Pattern' (2007) which by contrast is heavily patterned with her circular rice paper 'feathering'. Is this ironic title the artist pointing to religion and its in-built (unproven) ideas on fate and destiny? One notes the slightly pink nipples and of course the more pronounced halo. The work in this way relates itself to Christian images of the Virgin and other martyred female saints. One is faced with an image of the artist's own sacrifice, perhaps due to her profession in a predominantly male dominated South Indian art world.   

In 2008, the psychological aspect of some of Perciyal's work lessened as new softer themes emerged. She began to use the materiality of her natural mediums to bring a sensation of warmth and familiarity for the viewer. Colours and textures exuded a new welcoming aspect in their choice and execution that no doubt reflected the mental wellbeing of the young artist. A good example is 'Self-Portrait with Squirrel' (2008) from the 'Jerry' series of works. Jerry is her pet squirrel that she befriended in the Lalit Kala Akademi studio. Today she looks after Jerry and his growing family, like a mother, with kindness and love. It has awakened in her feelings she wasn't aware she had as well as given her a new understanding of those little sweet things of life that are so easily overlooked. In this work, the artist hides in the background, a fragile receding ghost, lending a shoulder to her pet represented by contrast in full colour. It is the artist surrendering to the biological urge to mother, to relinquish existence for the sake of one's baby.

In the most recent works in the exhibition, created during her London stay in 2008 and never displayed before at The Noble Sage, Perciyal continues to show her love of materials and newly found imagery. 'Untitled' (Leaf) (2008) and 'Untitled' (Bark with eye) (2008) both were inspired by a visit to Tate Modern. Rather than the art within the building, it was the trees outside that inspired both these works. Typical of the artist, it is in nature that she sees herself and her art rather than in the messages of other artists. 

In 'Untitled' (2008), Perciyal uses her classic rice paper 'feathering' effect along with acrylic paint and subtle drawing in pencil and brown conte. Both works have the bulbous conte shape, though in one the shape sprouts from a boat to produce a house. It suggests change: from nomadic freedom to stability and strength of place. In the partner piece, the Perciyal profile emerges from the bulb shape which in turn comes out of a vase like a bouquet. Again change and personal growth is the theme here. Seen together, these works are reassuring for the viewer; a diptych dedicated to the artist's new place in the world. Neglected no more.   

'Re-Birth: The Art of K. Benitha Perciyal' runs from the 10th June until the 6th July 2013. To view the exhibition or see artworks in person, contact the gallery on 07901944997 or by email on info@thenoblesage.com. If you would like to gather more information on any of these works or on the artist, click on this link. 

Read about: Jagath Weerasinghe's 'Shiva' II (2007) @ The Noble Sage

‘Shiva’ II (2007) by Jagath Weerasinghe

Acrylic on canvas

30 x 24 inches

JAGA0007

Let me wax lyrical for a moment about this wonderful piece in the collection by Jagath Weerasinghe. Titled ‘Shiva’ and painted in 2007, this work is clearly a depiction of the classical Hindu image of ‘Shiva Nataraja’, Lord Shiva dancing within a ring of fire symbolic of the cosmic and eternal cycle of life and death, that that allows to the world to carry on as it does. It is a classical image that I am very used to personally having seen it in my local temple in Archway since I was a small boy. It also played a large part in the tours I used to give at The Barber Institute of Fine Arts (@BarberInstitute) where they had a striking bronze Nataraja on the way up the stairs. Although the dance of all dances is depicted in this classical Hindu image, one that can literally change/end the world if it ends, the depiction brings some relief when one stands before it. Personally I feel time slow down as I see these many arms and legs raised mid-flow. We feel at peace looking at it. Such feelings are turned on their head when one looks at the charged image of Weerasinghe’s Nataraja. One notes first that it is only the lower half of the deity (and some of the arms) that is depicted and the ring of fire around the figure is also lost as is the character of ‘Apasmarapurusha’ from beneath the stamp of Shiva’s right foot, a character symbolic of sloth, confusion and forgetfulness. Concentration is given by Weerasinghe to the legs, the limbs that create and destroy with its dance. Looking at the work, one cannot help but relate the violence of the technique and the moody, depressive choice of colour to this corporeal focus. Few artists would take a brush doused in black paint to the blank canvas like Weerasinghe bravely does. The very nature of the colour is destructive to other colours as much as it is to the canvas. The colour is so deafening that one can very rarely see colours below it or above it. It is such a claustrophobic and overwhelming colour that one might not even notice colours next to it when it is put down, let alone the original colour of the canvas. In this way, Weerasinghe is rebellious, flying in the face of convention, seemingly uncaring and undeterrable. His technique matches his choice in colour. It is violent and aggressive. One is reminded by Francis Bacon at points perhaps. The movements of blackness depict the fervour of the dance. It is not something as uniquely peaceful (though paradoxically dynamic) as we are used to in the classical form. This Shiva’s dance seems frenetic and unstoppable, perhaps out of control, involving the whole body in convulsion. We the audience are not given peace, time is not slowed down for us, if anything we become aware of the angst, confusion, rush and disarray of life around us. It is clear that Weerasinghe is attempting to face us with a harsh reality, a bitter truth. Being an artist hailing from Sri Lanka one can tell that this work (part of a series of Shivas created the artist) is certainly highly political in meaning. On the one hand one wonders if the painting of the work was a cathartic experience for the artist, allowing him to take out his aggression at the status quo. Or else, whether it is a dark wish for things to start again, by any means necessary. 

For more works by Jagath Weerasinghe, click here.          



The Exciting Future of Sri Lankan Contemporary Art

The Future of Sri Lankan Contemporary Art

I believe an exciting future lies ahead of Sri Lankan contemporary art, one that stands apart from the glory days of the 43 Group and the days of Imperial art education before this. One that is distanced from India and China’s dominant art scene that moves at an untameable speed across the waters, forcing, in some ways by example, the route for other smaller countries in Asia wanting to enhance their art market. Sri Lanka has the chance, in this economic upturn, to tread carefully, to take each step with grace and, in this, stand out in the stampede.  

Many who come to my gallery ask me why I am excited about Sri Lankan art? What makes its future special? I always tell them that as much as war destroys, ravages, rapes, scars and burns, it can also inspire creativity. Of course, this creativity never makes the past war worthwhile. That would be an insensitive and naïve thing to say. However the creativity is unmatchable and within that creativity is often a strength of conviction that astounds as much as heals. I honestly believe that the art that will now emerge in these post-war years will help Sri Lanka and it will be creative like nothing before it. It will never re-build, un-ravage or vanish a scar but as it is borne from this tragedy, as such it will be a potent antidote, like a poisonous snake’s venom being used for a victim’s cure.

The future I am excited about involves an increasing desire to artistically respond and attend to Sri Lanka’s recent history, its civil war that ensued from 1983 until May 2009. How can such a historical haemorrhage as this period do anything but create new ideas, mediums, new senses of self and new understandings of what it is ‘to move forward’? I envision artists rising to this challenge, describing Sri Lanka’s unusual modernity with open emotion and daring courage like war veterans stepping forward to express their trauma or else long-ignored soothsayers, their portentous voice overlooked for the sake of louder, inflexible voices in the crowd. I look forward to this as much as I wait with baited breath for Tamil artists to come to the fore in the art world to add variety to Sri Lankan contemporary art. Right now art is dominated by talented Singhalese artists, the vast majority of which, from my experience, working out of Colombo.

What art will war torn areas like Vanni and Jaffna give rise to? What movement will returning talented artists like T. Shaanathanan initiate in the Northern province? How will artists in Colombo that have been political, or at least socially-motivated, in their art for many years re-direct their work with this new freedom given to them. I am excited to see how artists like Jagath Weerasinghe, an outspoken artist if ever there was one, will respond in his work and how we in return will respond. Anoma and Jagath Ravindra, two established artists, have for a long time been interested in themes of finding redemption, salvation, peace and escape from this world. What will they find in their abstract forms and layered meditative surfaces that will refresh and guide us in our progress to a new Sri Lankan future?

It will take a greater variety of artistic minds to make of the art scene something idiosyncratic and worthy of exploration (and indeed investment) on a global level. But I believe that the variety exists. Ready or reaching maturation. I believe that artists have now a chance to help society rebuild itself, to right history, to correct identity and in doing all of this restore faith and hope to a country that for so long has been without any, shrouding its despair in tourist beach resorts, fashion shows and umbrella-ed cocktails. Artists in this way are charged with the greatest of all commitments at one of the most pivotal periods in Sri Lankan art history. This is why I am excited. The route artists take, and the decisions art dealers, gallerists and buyers make in the coming years, will shape art from this small island for a very long time.

Jana Manuelpillai

Director
The Noble Sage Art Gallery, London