CATALOG: The Man, Image and the ‘Construct’ of Statehood:

 

The Man, Image and the ‘Construct’ of Statehood:

(Raj Kumar in/as a visual discourse)

 

 (A catalogue writeup about the visual responses to the legendary film personality in Kannada–S.P.Muthuraj alias Dr.Raj Kumar. The exhibition held at Chitrakala Parishath gallery, was the result of an art workshop conducted earlier (2008) by the Department of Kannada & Culture, Bangalore, to mark the fiftieth year of the formation of Karnataka, on linguistic lines. Raj Kumar was re-modelled upon this idea of linguistic identity for Kannada speaking crowd, half way through his career, when he pioneered the ’save-Kannada’ movement called Gokak Chaluvali)

 

 (i)

 

This exhibition documents—but do not archive—the ‘impression’ that visual artists of Karnataka hold, or want to hold about a legendary personality, who was, by and large, a contemporary to them. Most of these artists are aged between forties and seventies but yet they have witnessed the making of the legend called ‘Raj Kumar’. It would be ironic to provide a brief note about someone’s legendary status! In this sense, there is no legend who is omnipresent. In other words, the person and the legend that (s)he is are two different aspects, the latter is always at the forefront. Legends are made up of several coincidences that are culture-specific: (a) Colonization, (b) Orientalism, (c) national language and the (d) publicity media’s narcissistic concern to ‘generate’ news rather than ‘collect’ news–have been the four important reasons for the making of an ‘iconic figure’. Interestingly, Raj Kumar, the legend (as different from S.P.Muthuraja, the person, his actual self) was ‘made’ despite the fact that he kept the news media and national language at arms length, throughout his career wherein he performed the roles of an actor, singer, musician; and of ‘the’ Kannada activist, Kannada cultural hero (between 1950s-90s), among others.   He filled in the necessity for an idea of a ‘pan’-Kannadiga. This was a position that none of the Kannadiga from elite, educated, litterateurs, industrial and political background could achieve. Raj was the only Kannada legend to achieve this ‘pan’ status in his appearance, behavior, speech mode and an all-inclusive-personality whose influence refuted any region-specificity (within Karnataka) of colloquial and dialectical restrictions. The paintings in this show are by and large provoked by this desire to represent him as a ‘pan’ Kannadiga. Most artists participating in this show have passed through a phase where they have felt, appreciated or at least acknowledged the overwhelming presence of the actor, at certain stage of their lifetime. A posthumous portrait poster of Raj on glass windows–that seems to have become the trend of the day–acts like a scare crow or a vasthu protection to the building. Nobody throws stones in Raj’s presence!

The painters have tried to capture the notion of what does it mean to ‘being’ legendary rather than ‘becoming’ one. Consider the works of V.T.Kale, J.S.Khanderao and K.N.Ramachandran. Coincidentally, Kale was initially associated with Gubbi company theatre, from wherein Dr. Raj Kumar initially hailed from; Khanderao began his career as an artist in the 1950s, which was also the time when Raj began his career in film-acting. Ramachandran’s populist skill is derived by the innumerably hoardings he painted for Raj’s films, from past five decades. In a way, these artists are depicting an already-culturally-endorsed-image, while their own contribution to the very endorsement of this cult-figure cannot be ignored. Incidentally, these three artists happen to be the oldest among the participating artists and closest to Raj in attitude, background, age and activity. Khanderao, the abstractionist, has painted figurative portraits of the actor, in pencil and oil, as if to bend a self imposed rule of being an abstractionist, for so long. His style is self-contested ‘due to’ his own imagination of a legend nearby. Kale has composed various roles of the actor into the epical Dashavataara pattern. Hence the depicting of the various incarnations of a Hindu god has been equated with the various roles played by the thespian actor. J.M.S.Mani evokes this in a more existential and in a raw form, as though to pinpoint at the ruggedness and risks involved in the ‘making’ of a legend. A literal allegation of personality through a creative media might find a strange parallel (and hence legitimacy) with the literariness which was treated as a virtue in Kannada theatres of the olden days of which Raj Kumar was a part of.

 

(ii)

 

Note that the appreciation (in the form of a visual obituary) about Raj Kumar comes through two dimensional and painterly media alone, in the current show. As if to contradict this, it was only after his demise that Raj’s sculptures–mostly fetishes of classical and academic sculptures–have been installed in various places. In fact the definition of fetish and pastiche has been ‘reversed’ in/because of this show: a film poster–as a fetish–culturally mocks a mainstream media like painting, generally speaking. In this case, the popular poster images of Raj have been driven ‘into’ the sanctified pictorial space of mainstream visual culture, as if it was a due apology. (Subhash Kammar’s pictorial adaptation of the ‘moving image’ of Raj’s wife weeping over his body and B.Devraj’s hazy reminder of Raj performing yoga are from the album of the person behind the legend but not about the legend itself, if such a bifurcation is possible). Also the theoretic concern towards the popular-in-visual-culture that has been receiving due attention since 1980s must have affected this U-turn in such an act of cultural hierarchical positioning. Depicting legends require the ‘reversal’ of a set of hierarchies from within a mainstream, high-brow visual dialogue. A real-obituary article, published immediately after his demise and digitally brought into the space of painterliness (H.A.Anil Kumar) can be a part of such probing mindset, in order to identify the person behind a legend. On the other hand, the search for such grey areas between the legend and the person is deep rooted in what we could unapologetically term as a Kannadiga-attitude, that refutes extremities. Even in the visual discourse of Karnataka, there is neither a sense of hyper-reality nor pure-abstraction, perhaps for the same reason of an aversion to extremities. Raj, as a personality, becomes a right analogy to reflect upon a trait in the Kannada visual culture that was just around him, everywhere. The works of Bhavani, M.G.Doddamani, Praveen Kumar, V.G.Andani and B.R. Roopa’s works serve as registers to such an attitude.

When Annavru (the way he was generally addressed—as an elder brother–respectfully) was yet alive, there were no sculptures of this thespian, as if the media was alleged as representing the posthumous quality of the addressed. A sculpture might also mean a frozen meaning of a given persona. Hence, the paintings here, just because they are paintings, acquire a special meaning, as against, say, sculptures. These paintings are also pitched ‘against’ the ‘documenters’ of the fetish/pastiche as well. The mere mediatic difference between the internal structures of art practice has been assigned with newer meanings and insights, through the personality that was always held up on the ‘other side’ of a serious visual discourse. Now, through Raj-the-legend, even the ‘popular’ is in dialogue with that which is private. In Kannada, if literariness is public, a non-verbal dialogue is held to be private.Raj has brought about a negotiation in between them, posthumously, through this exhibition.

 

(iii)

 

Most of the paintings in the show contain elements of (1) ‘collage’ and (2) ‘digital print’, and a (3) ‘nostalgic painterly language’. Amaresh Bijjala, Satish Sholapur, P.N.Acharya, and K.V.Kale have tried to depict him as the legendry Rajakumaara of the school-picture-comic-books (Chandamaama) and not as Raj Kumar, the actual legend. He (the ‘Prince’ meaning Rajkumaara and Raj Kumar, the actor) has captured the imagination of one’s childhood in the 60s and 70s. Obviously it was Raj Kumar who is remembered as the mythical personalities like the kings Mayura, Krishnadevaraja; as the saintly Raghavendra Swamy; and as the Bond and ideal Kannada husband. The works of M.Shanthamani, A.M.Prakash, Ganesh Shastry, Rekha Hebbar, V.Vallish and Ravi Kumar Kashi depict him heroically in a ‘metaphoric yet pictorial space’ that is an amalgamation of all those ‘roles’ that he stood/stands for (rather than those he played, for, there were some more that he could not incidentally play, did not want to enact as well). This becomes obvious if one observes the bilingual titles given by Ravi Kashi (‘athi shreshta’ meaning “Simply Superb”).This specific adherence to digital (Basavaraj Musavalagi, N.Marishamachar, Surekha) and ready-made collage images (M.C.Chetty) of Raj’s ‘printed’-portraits endorses the otherwise sidelined sanctity that time and space received in the making of images, in, say, Mysore traditional paintings. The perfection of the legendary Raj’s face was projected and received thoroughly through the actual/own skin (i.e., the reel, off-set and digital skin which is what is our imagination of the legendary Raj Kumar is made up of!), that could not be compensated by the enamel or oil painterly skin, according to the readings possible in the artworks of the above said artists.  There is something more than meets the eye.*1* The participating painters, through their works, seem to accept the fact that it is no use imitating that they consider as beyond comprehension and human ability (of ‘being’ and not ‘becoming’ legendary, here and now). A pixilated, digital and film role appearance faces certain challenges when ‘translated’ into a painterly appearance. There is much to loose and gain, metaphorically, allegorically and realistically. The works in the show is a bubbling activity of such translations of various degrees.

Hence the personality has been painted, sketched and more so drawn from the populist belief, in this exhibition, in order to formulate a logo of the icon. Consider the words ‘drawn’, ‘logo of the icon’ in this sentence. The visual art’s terminologies undergo a metamorphosis while dealing with the imagination of Raj. The show–the result of a camp–has compelled the artists to re-visit the age old belief in the art situation about the notion of drawing. Never did someone ‘draw’ so much from public, as much as they did at one go, in this show. The over-usage of digital and collage is the act of ‘draw(ing)’ and ‘retaining’ from the public image. It is—this act of ‘draw’ing—is the culmination of the popular demand of how Raj should ‘be like’ rather than how he ‘was/is’. There was no Raj who was, but always metamorphosing according to the audience’s likings, even posthumously. There was nothing like ‘is’ for this legendary actor as much as he ‘has been and becoming’. This experience of the Kannadigas has been best captured by the writer Devanooru Mahadeva when he wrote that, “Muthuraja (the actual name of Dr.Raj) started playing the role of Raj Kumar five decades ago. And he never stopped it till the end!”

 

(iv)

 

If one can recall similar such painting camps conducted, in order to depict the Kannada cultural heroes like Rashtra Kavi Kuvempu, Bendre and others, they were represented either through/as their (a) photographic appearance and/or (b) their own scripted letters. Karnataka Ratna Raj is the only one to have been associated with the yellow and red flag that is an informal national flag of Karnataka; and this act makes him the ideal representative of a cultural hero, surpassing, perhaps, the more epistemologically accessible ones!*2* Interestingly, there might be sensational personalities but no legendary figures, who excelled only in visual cultural discourse like films and theatre, who have been iconised like (or ‘as’) a legendary figure in the Indian context. M.G.R and N.T.R were, for instance, politicians and politicized, by the end of their career, splitting their fan-dome into more than two groups. The legend of Raj refuted any such split among his fandom. In other words, the unenviable imagination of the Kannadigas led into the making-of-Rajkumaar, which is exactly the thematic derivation of this show.

Each of the works in this show almost play the role of a ‘placard’ about/of Raj Kumar as (a) an image and (b) an imagination. However there are a few deliberate aspects that are made absent from this show’s depiction. Raj, the personality (actor, singer and the public-figure) is not identified with gadgets of any kind–be it mythical or contemporary—serving them as absolutely worthless (unlike M.G.R with glasses, Amithabh with artificial hairstyle, N.T.R as lord Krishna, and the like). Raj is a legend only as the ‘construed’ Raj. There is no Raj, relevant, beyond the ‘construed’ Raj formulated by his audience. V.Vallish, Ravi Kumar Kashi and  N.Ramesh’s work—in particular–are strong statements about this aspect. Interestingly, he fits into the ‘figurative genre’ of visual representation. Abstraction and the legends are aversed to each other in the context of Kannada culture wherein a pure photo-realism and pure abstraction means going to extremes, which are already always abandoned projects. Ramesh Chandra, V.G.Venu and A.Sridharamurthy’s works, together, hint at this vanishing act!

 

(v)

 

What does Raj Kumar, emerging through these artworks, mean to us, today? Undoubtedly the exhibition began as a homage-art workshop to a personality whose presence was overwhelming. He has created a blank space that lingers large, in the Kannada activism. He wrote a new definition to what does it mean to be ‘the’ heart of an imagination of a regional and linguistic identity, that too while hailing from the hierarchically an inappropriate field of representation. Kannada literature has never facilitated a personality from a hierarchically sidelined, substream to take the lead of a linguistic imagination. But it could not resist—in fact it received with open arms—Raj Kumar’s arrival at the forefront of Gokak movement for the cause of saving the identity of Kannada in the 1980s, which was more than a mere linguistic identity.

Today, Raj Kumar, as a personality, ha(d)s two phases: the legend’s own self, when (a) the person responsible for it was alive and (b) after he passed away. When he was yet alive, he kept away the wrath of modernity and contemporanity to a certain extent (“is there anyone around to lead the Kannadigas, anymore?”). Technical, mechanical and digital accessories and the Raj-the-legend were pitched against each other, in his films. Though the Hollywood’s technically sauvy films were exhibited all around him, Raj Kumar alone could counter its impact in what seems to be a neo-exotic mode. He was an obsession and a ‘guaranteed satisfaction (remember the HBO channel ads?)’ to his fans, that also kept away criticism about him, at bay. The artists, in this show, altogether, have initiated a dialogue about these issues, through a totally newer media of expression for art criticism—through the art of painting.

In the current show, whenever or whichever work attempts to show him as the ‘actual’ person who was the reason behind this projection, he is then ‘depicted’ as a matured and aged person, rather than as a youth—abandoning a mark of exuberance. There is the presence of a matured serenity instead of a youthful angst, whenever he is real. It is ‘the’ artist(ic) community’s choice. Age and maturity seem to go well with Kannada culture. He, the man always clad in white shirt and panche (lungi), is shown in a Gandhian mode—simple, straightforward and less colourful (even in the painterly representations!).

 Interestingly, this camp occurred immediately after his demise and just during /as a part of the the festivities to celebrate the 50^th year of the unification of Karnataka (as part of the Suvarna Karnataka project). Remembering this personality, next to the centenarian literary personalities gave way to a rigorous dialogue about ‘positioning’ him in a cultural premise. He is no doubt documented, but escapes any certain kind of archiving that his colleagues from other much academicised faculties enjoy. By archiving, I mean being positioned him theoretically. By refuting a theoretic position to him, in verbal language, the tradition of keeping him away from the literary discourse and criticism, through pronounced silence, is what has been ‘confronted’ in this show, through these subaltern artworks. He, a popular and Pop figure–Joan Soan of Karnataka–is made a fetish of himself. All through his career, he has stressed too much on ‘readers-oriented-theory-like’ grasp of his own productions, by construing himself as an amalgamation of a chosen set of his audience’s imagination. The repeated statement by him, by his fans and his critics is that “there is no Raj beyond his fans”. He is a ‘construct’. The current show is the latest among them. That, in a certain way, has lead to this camp. Here is a new Raj, longitive, drifting slowly into a theoretic premise. The fraternity that connects both visual artists and a legendary cultural personality who incidentally hails from theatre (and then from filmy world) pitches visual and literal discourse against one another like never before. ////

 

Foot Note

*1* The historic fact that many newspaper illustrators would think twice to make a caricature, cartoon or even a realistic portrait of the then alive Raj Kumar, had to do with the alertness that the artists catered towards the ‘making’ of the Kannadiga’s ideal notion of ‘handsomeness’ as well as a tradition of apathy towards hyper-real representation (of the adored), perhaps. Yet the question as to whether the Kannadiga audience saw Raj in gods and kings or was/is it the other way round, is a highly debatable, subjective theme.

*2*. One could recall here the postcards that artists made for Gandhi, from throughout the country. But that was half a century after Mahatma’s demised. The fact that Gandhi and Buddha are depicted throughout the nation, while other personalities do not enjoy this populance is also the same angle that has affected Raj’s image as a legend, in the sub-nationhood of Karnataka. Remember that his personality as a singer, as an actor, as a philanthropist, as an activist—if each one of them is considered as a self-complete-unit—the sum total of all these personalities is less than the legend that emerged out of their assemblage. The legend is in the imagination of the public. And they don’t seem to endorse anybody excelling in any specific streams, to be the representatives of what an ideal Kannadiga should be like. Hence the iconic cultural person for them is the one who yields to the approval of both panditha and paamara.///]]