
THERE are many ways to saddle multiple worlds. One of them is through art, as New York-based twins Amrit and Rabinder8212;the Singh Twins8212;do. Citizens of the world, they have asserted their idiom using the miniature format.
The twins are not the only artists using miniature art to construct a contemporary artistic vocabulary. There are several from Pakistan and there8217;s Manisha Gera Baswani in India. However, unlike many other contemporary miniature practitioners, the twins are of Indian origin and have been brought up in England. They8217;ve had to constantly defy accepted ideas of art, but that experience could be the reason their works symbolise the recognition of non-Western art in the West, where the multicultural aesthetic jostles with the homogenised enemy.
The response is clear in their new series of work on flowers and spices: stuff that wafts out of our lives, appetites and kitchens, creating deep imprints in our memory. After several years of showing globally, including a highly acclaimed show at the National Gallery of Modern Art, the Singh twins are showing in Delhi again.
One of the paintings in this series is Saffron. Unlike the earlier frenzied detailing we8217;ve seen from the twins, this work and many others in the series is placid. The Indian audience is bound to look for the delectable Kashmiri link. Of course it8217;s there, in the paisley on the floor. But the work also points to the Turkish tapestry of the floor or the ground, symbolising the Earth.
It8217;s the fertile matter from which plants like the saffron crocus are born. It refers to the Turkish origin of the spice, but it doesn8217;t end there. There8217;s also a reference to ancient Greek mythology. Today, if you don8217;t buy Indian saffron, you could look for Iranian. In just one frame,
diverse time lines and cultures get connected though a single, golden-yellow strand.
Even more powerful in this context is Tulip8212;the Dutch flower that evokes memories of the country. The twins meticulously researched the flower, and reveal that the word 8216;tulip8217;
originated in the Persian language and means turban, because of its shape. It was only in the last few hundred years that it reached Holland through the trade routes and became a must-have.
So when a man offers a red tulip to a woman, as the man in the painting does, does he do this thinking of the tulip as a romantic flower as it is popularly perceived? Can he recall the Eastern connections of his act of love? How would this impact his action? By tracing routes and histories, Amrit and Rabinder sharply question the superficial basis of stereotypes. They are doing to the larger world what they were forced to do to their tutors in their English art school: demand that blinkers be banished.
And they don8217;t stop at this. They push the connotations further by their choice of artistic influences. Art Nouveau and the Pre-Raphaelites dominate these works, as do characteristic imagery from chosen parts of the world. The first, as the name suggests, sought to establish a new way of looking at things.
Moreover, it acknowledged the importance of the art and craft movement, shifting art-making onto everyday objects. When the twins use this school of art, we see a European trend captured within an Indian, Pakistani, or Persian miniature format. By doing this they are seeking common practices8212;ancient tales and modern folklore8212;to fashion tools as art practitioners of today.