Opinion Going bust with statues

If beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, this figurehead was a resounding success because Governor Bose looked pleased as punch with it. For the rest of us, our frame of reference for sculpture is Michelangelo’s David so it’s hard to make sense of the image — the Governor in a black bandhgala and dark glasses peering at his eerie likeness (kitted out identically in a black bandhgala) with a much too shiny forehead and strangely beatific expression — while the museum staff clapped dutifully in the background.

Busts have been around since the Greco-Roman era to signify prominence and honor family lineage. Folklore has it that Michelangelo thoroughly examined corpses to make sure his creations were anatomically correct. Replicating the human form can’t be easy and I’m certainly no authority on the artistic merit of this bust, but speaking purely as an observer, if I was to stumble on these busts on a chilly dark night, I would flee, screeching, convinced a prop from The Exorcist has sprung to life to rip me to shreds.

Horror movie enthusiasts may recall the lurid 1975 film Trilogy of Terror where a waxen doll-like statue leaps out of a suitcase and sinks its teeth into the protagonist’s arm. It was the bane of my childhood. Definitely, strolling down an ancient cobbled street in Rome, life-sized marble portraits of Gods and heroes transports one back to a glorious era but in 21st century popular culture, mannequins and busts are more likely to invoke a sense of creepy unease. Somewhere in our fertile imaginations (at least mine) their lifeless humanity signifies death, if not a weirdly nightmarish rebirth. The mystery is why these vulgar travesties continue to be made when nine times out of ten, statues’ facial expressions seem frightening, like they’re grimacing in agony.

Fashions change. There was a time when a taxidermy tiger had a pride of place in aristocratic homes, some grand uncle having shot the magnificent creature in a shikaar. Nobody does that anymore. Only decrepit heritage hotels in Rajasthan have antler horns mounted on walls. Elephant tuskers and ivory tables too, have mercifully vanished over the years. Similarly, perhaps it’s time to consign busts and statues to history since the emotions they evoke are either a shudder of distaste or a shiver up the spine. The Indian Museum, where a future shrine to Governor Bose has been carved out, has plenty of other objects of fascination. There are red sandstone remnants of the Bharput Stupa, metal images from the 8th century and art from the Gandhara School. Occupied by such riches from the past, it’s unlikely that connoisseurs of art or inquisitive students would be enamoured by figurines of current political appointees, however much they may consider themselves to be living legends.

In India, there’s no getting away from politicians in power. They hog the limelight on prime time TV, page one in newspapers and even on the road, with their lal batti and VIP security. It’s not such a big ask that the museum be spared from displaying them on pedestals as well.

The writer is director, Hutkay Films