The recent report from Christie’s about the “god of all household utensils”, Subodh Gupta’s work remaining unsold send tremors of shock in the art world where he was considered the royal blue chip investment. I was asked for my take on the subject and my instant response was: Such utensils are found on every street corner of India, why should anyone pay in crores to acquire these examples of industrial design where the artist has played the minimal role of merely putting them together in a certain permutation and combination?
I feel it is about time we should call off the bluff of the emperor’s new clothes, call a spade a spade and not hide behind artistic license and give it some fancy epithet. After all, installations are like votive figures. Just as votive figures are installed for a ritualistic reason, so are installations put together for a reason and have a shelf life. That reason is often a form of protest and so should be dismantled accordingly. Another point that needs to be highlighted is the fact that once it is acquired, and placed within the context say of a house, when it is dusted and reassembled by the family retainer, will the installation still be considered Subodh Gupta’s? Or can Ramu claim artistic ownership? Debatable points these!
The fact remains that Gupta was lucky or smart or rather both, to have found financial backers like Saatchi & Saatchi to put together the rather gimmicky installations that are a take-off on the Indian bartan bazaar. Piles of mass-produced stainless steel utensils that became the symbol of newfound post independence prosperity could be found in every mofussil town when traditionally used metals like brass and kansa were given the go by. These stainless steel monstrosities were samples of industrial design and a far cry from the aesthetically handcrafted utensils of yore.
Gupta started creating installations from these steel utensils by rearranging them in a certain manner and adopted this as his signature style. So far so good. Backers hit upon this as the ultimate statement and everyone was laughing to the bank with these works selling for a crore and more. The buzz was that Gupta was getting merely one fifth of this money while the four backers were pocketing the rest. Whatever be the correct story, the fact was that Gupta was the golden guy, selling in crores. No one was willing to question as to what was Gupta’s contribution in this game of found objects? He had nothing to do with the designing of the bartans, or their creation. This was just a medley of a molten collection. Now, though, that the honeymoon is over — thanks to the recession in the West, the backers have vanished as fast as they came. So it’s no surprise that the bartans have remained unsold. And Gupta finds himself in the unenviable position of not being able to reduce his prices, despite not being able to sell at those prices.
Somehow this reminds me of the puja pandals of Kolkata. Traditionally made by artisans from Kumaratoli, idols of Goddess Durga for the puja came from here. Then in the name of inspired innovation, once in a while a pandal would create the Durga family made from betel nuts or some other unusual material. This then would make news and the media and the devout would throng the pandal. Increasingly, a number of pandals started looking for idols made from unusual materials. But no one forgot that the basic by and large figures would still be coming from Kumaratoli, meaning, that while there is space for an occasional abberation, to give up the tried and tested normal in the name of innovation is hardly the best of approaches.
Same is the case with Gupta, doing installations for a reason is great, but to the exclusion to all else, wherein the curiosity factor would be the overriding one, is not the best of ways to be the lambi race ka ghoda! Talking of ghodas, by the way, MF Husain too didn’t sell this Sotheby’s auction. Touché!
Dr Alka Raghuvanshi is an art writer, artist and curator