NS Harsha: A Glimpse into the Heart of South India

The art we see is so dependent on where we live. While traveling in the United States or Europe you may find your world awash with works by Georgia O'Keefe or Andy Warhol or da Vinci, etc. Rarely do you come across contemporary artists from more diverse mindsets and origins. It was such a treat, therefore, to run across the Mori Art Museum's N.S. Harsha: Charming Journey exhibit in Tokyo last year.

N.S. Harsha is a contemporary sculptor and artist from the Mysuru, the third most populous city in India. As the Mori Art Museum so aptly put it, "he has carved out his own highly idiosyncratic place in the world by engaging frankly with the diversity of “life” around him, from the traditional culture and natural environment of southern India, to the everyday relationships between people, flora and fauna."

Indeed, one of the things I enjoy most about Harsha's work is the way he highlights a life I know nothing about.

Take for instance, "Dyeing the Great Indian"

It's a little unclear, to those not familiar with Indian culture and life, exactly what this piece is trying to convey. Tiny men in business suits flank a large, traditionally clothed South Indian man, attempting to dye him with their powdered colors. The criticism of colonialism is generally clear. But without context, the subtleties of the piece's aim to "critique the colonial overtones of economic development" (Source) is lost to many of us.

Here's a detail view of another, similar work entitled "A macro economic dispute on price band of Rs. 30 to 60 per day". The commentary here seems more pointed, though equally nuanced. Men in suits line up, talking about macroeconomics, while in equally neat rows around them, the real work is done.

The neat organization of figures shown above is a common theme in Harsha's work. As noted in the quote earlier on Hasha utilizes traditional Indian art elements -- repetition, flatness, detail -- while bringing with it a dynamism that is both fresh and riveting. No two figures look exactly the same. Take a look at the triptych entitled "We Come, We Eat, We Sleep"



Imagine a wall filled tall with these patterns. There's a meditative quality to a piece with this kind of repetition and size. The reminder of the small daily acts we do allows the viewer to fall into a calmness, picking apart details while also allowing the whole to wash over you.

While pictures can't quite do it justice, hopefully these can begin to explain the scale at which Harsha operates. And the meditative nature of such a scale:

All kinds of figures are hidden in this piece. Like Frida Kahlo

Women and men of various ethnicities

A pumpkin?

And of course, this guy:

There are countless other examples of this kind of dynamic repetitiveness in Harsha's work:

Creation of Gods: inspired by textile workers. In which "human figures like old men or ghosts are trying to create gods out of infinitely connected fabric of the cosmos."

Leftovers

Spot an Innocent Civilian: a reflection for former Indian Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi's assassination

Pledge

The pieces above capture snippets of Indian life and culture the rest of the world can be blind to. The piece with the monkeys, for instance, entitled: "Raah Dhikhanaywale Thay, Hai, Rahengay (Those who show us the path were there, are here, will be there)" comes with the following explanation: "In India, the monkey is highly regarded, both as the mythical hero Hanuman and an animal familiar to all. The figure of the monkey that points at the sky repeatedly appears in Harsha’s paintings, alluding to a desire to be free of worldly concerns."

I hope you've enjoyed this review of Harsha's exhibition as much as I enjoyed the exhibit itself. I leave you with one final piece. A show of great skill and detail: proof that while Harsha often uses an organized repetitiveness to leave us feeling calm, thoughtful, and meditative-- he can do all that in other ways too:

Punarapi Jananam Punarapi Maranam (again birth - again death)