A Metaphysical Approach to Paper

 

The intention with this blog is to create  paper's geo-story as well as pointing at paper as a medium in the 21st century.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Metaphysical Approach to Paper indicates a hypothetical, mental, ethereal, imperceptible, spiritual approach. It is not about how to make............ but raising the questions: what are they doing the people bending over vats with water and pulp and why are they doing this? Imagine someone viewing ark making for the first time. The viewer would see the maker bending over a vat, holding a mould and deckle with two hands, dipping the mould into a vat of water and floating fibres, water running through a mesh like a small cascade, seeing an organic flat substance appear on the surface of the mould. Our viewer might ask: what is this person doing and why is she doing it?

 

The maker circles in water, doing circular movements, folding and unfolding nature. The repetition of circling is mirrored in nature, in plant life, think about tree rings, in wave formations, in prayers and in meditation. The answer my be: the maker lifts new surfaces of earth, the maker is creating a web.



In Danish, Norwegian and Swedish, a surface produced in the above described way is named an ark. In Finnish an arkki, in English a sheet, in French a feuille, in German a blatt, in Spanish a hoja, in Dutch a vel. Only in the Scandinavian language is the word ark used to describe the created surface.

The definition of an ark is a boat or a ship resembling that in which Noah and his family were saved from the flood. It is something that offers protection and safety, including the sacred chest which represents the presence of God to the Hebrews, a repository traditionally in or against the wall of a synagogue where the scrolls of the Torah are held ( Torah consists of the foundational narrative of the Jewish people). the Hebrew word for ark is teba, that has a connection with salvation from waters ark  ( In this context ark = paper).
The story of the flood is connected with the story of creation - a continuous cycle of creation, destruction and recreation, similar to the act of creating ark. The universe as envisioned by the ancient Hebrews was made up of a flat disk with the heavens above and the underworld below - the three were surrounded by a watery ocean protected by a transparent dome which ringed the earth. The earth was a flat disk as an ark.

Noah's ark represents the 3 level cosmos in miniature - the heavens, the earth and the waters. In Genesis I it says, that God created the 3-level world as a space in the midst of waters for mankind. Making an ark goes from air through water to lift the flat earth. In Genesis 6 - 8 it says: he fills that space with waters again, saving only Noah, his family and the animals with him in the ark. In creating an ark one saves earth from water in a round movement.

Round is a calm word, as Gaston Bachelard calls it in his book the Poetics of Space. Being is round. the world is round around the round being. Bachelard refers to Rilke's Poemes Francais, where a lone
tree is at the center of the world feasting upon the dome:

Tree always in the center

Of all that surround it

Tree feasting upon

Heaven's great dome

 

Bachelard writes that he shall never find a better document for a phenomenology of a being, which is at once established in its roundness and developing it and that Rilke's tree would open an important chapter in my album of concrete metaphysics. What Rilke's tree opens for Bachelard's reflections, the making of an ark opens as well.

 

Together with textile and ceramics, making ark (paper) is commonly associated with craft. But paper and the woven canvas lie behind many of the world's most acclaimed works of art. Entire cultures are held together by this fibrous web, which is now endangered in digital culture, but it still remains an elemental substance in civilisation.

 

 

 

Fibre, the textual - we wear a text in the clothes that wrap around us, are we conscious of this? Fibres have their own secret text inside an ark.

Before becoming an ark, fibres have gone through a treatment of maceration, almost similar to digestion, to set free the cellulose from the stem of plants to be turned into pulp. Fibres have become small spirals intertwining and making strong bonds inside the ark space. The way in which organic and synthetic fibres weave and interweave are the basic inspiration for our texnological culture, reflected in technological terminology as e.g. Weaving a New Web: Education and Parenting in an Era of Technological Change/The weaving models themselves are subject to model transformation...

 

Ark making has a historical tradition implied in the way of the making. A physical living plant is transformed into an organic surface able to absorb as human skin. the strength of a handmade ark depends on how nature's plants have been processed - the possibilities are multitudes. The act of making ark anchors the artist to her work in a natural organic way and enlarge the spirit of the maker.

 

In the 21st century art world historic categories of material and form have become irrelevant and we place importance of the act of making. The making can rather be conceived of as a meta-action, an art in itself of making the invisible visible, physical and tangible. this exploration of a material is art. It is important to direct creative energy into the origin of things more now than ever.

 

The American author and art critic for the New Yorker, Calvin Tomkins writes in his book Lives of the Artist that the limitless freedom of the modern artist has been an unending burden and for the contemporary artist, art is, among other things, an approach to the problem of living.

Approaching the problem of living through handmade paper touches on biological, geographical, ecological, chemical, historical, cultural and aesthetical aspects.

 

A new born ark is a white space - an area with potential for improvement - a pause to let it sink in.

 

 

I make an ark

a new space emerges

possibilities expand

the action is repeated

the new born space has no memory

of a more fulfilled state

it is

it exists because of an undefined presence

it has a functional invisibility

it absorbs

it is alive

it has an ability to expand

it demands nothing

it is measured against itself

it is presence

 

An ark is the beginning of a myriad of things. It is dao = accumulating space; it is zen emphasising

from as emptiness.

Emptiness as form: Lao Zi, chapter 28: - knowing the white, retaining the black, it is the form of the world.

Chinese qi (chi) = formless empty space, bestowing life. Qi is a metaphysical concept of the cosmic power and empty space is where qi dwells, flows, tranquil or full of life. Japanese ma is that what takes place in the imagination of the person, who experiences a simultaneous awareness of form and non - form - a vision.

 

We all have pictures in the mind shimmering around the edges. Pictures we do not always act upon; they are just shimmering in the midst of out inner flow. To create an ark the mind has to be focused from within - the mind translates the past, the present and the future into the ark, whereas an ark comes to symbolize time and mind. Ark is about the mind.

We are born with 5 senses, meant to be developed. If we relate these 5 senses to ark:

Ark contains sound - think about the German Joseph Anton Riedl, who made Paper Music concerts..........

Ark contains taste – think about American John Cage and his Edible Drawings based on his macrobiotic diet

Ark is tactile – each ark asks to be touched

Ark is visible, we have to see ark, not only to look at it

Ark contains smell of plant and water, nature

Feeling our senses is more important than thoughts.

 

 

                                  

                                       An ark enlarged 1 MY, looks like a river as seen

                                                                    from above.

 

Ark as artefact has an own duration and occupy a different system of time intervals and periods than lives of men and animals. Ark has the possibility of telling its own geo – story. Geo – story is storytelling, interactive stories, combining pictures, videos and narrative. Geography literally means writing about the Earth. A typical dictionary definition will be a science that deals with the description, distribution, and interaction of the diverse physical, biological, and cultural features of the earth's surface.

Imagine giving the physicality of ark its own story. This means to write stories on ark’s geographies, which would enables us to rediscover our territory in a new and shared way, which could be done as digital storytelling.

Informing about ark’s own stories would take ark into the technological development and would highlight its importance as a nature itself.

   

 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=5FRrqeqx6uM

 

 Being is round. the world is round around the round being.

 

 

 

 

 

Miniatures - collaboration in India

Bienvenue au Water Palace

 

Welcome to the Water Palace

“Without stories, mankind would have languished and dried out, it would have perished without water.” Cardinal Salviati in “The Cardinal’s first story“ by Karen Blixen.

 

 

In connection with the project “Papir set Påny/ Paper Revisioned” for The Art Centre Silkeborg Spa I collaborated with Indian miniature painters in Udaipur,Rajasthan, India. In a dual role of both curator and exhibitor, I decided to involve other artists in my own project.

The original function of the Art Centre SilkeborgSpa as a hydra-sanatorium  was used as the point of departure for the project “Welcome to the Water Palace”, which revolves around the images and associations that water may conjureup. Everything consists of water - water ties the globe and living beings together. Water brings life - without water, we could not exist.
Good stories, folk tales, fantastic epics have always fascinated me. Fairy tales inhabit a world of their own and the life that unfolds in them is governed by the supernatural and poetic laws of nature.
Throughout India's cultural history, there has been an ongoing interaction between various religious, linguistic and social groups and this has resulted in a rich, material mythology that can rival European cultural history both with regard to breadth and diversity. A huge amount of tales have been preserved in regional Indian languages, but the more popular myths have reached larger circulation by entering the superregional language Sanskrit and by compilation into epic tales dating back as far as to the 4th century. Basic to the rich diversity of myths is the central theme of tension between creation and destruction. characteristic to the Indian way of thinking is the process during which order is established in chaos and the universe is dissolved into chaos, all a part of an immense cyclical pattern. Another basic theme is that things are not what they appear to be. Therefore any reality is illusory. Working with paintings in which paper casting as a material is in itself a symbol of establishing order in chaos - a constant change between destruction and creation. I experienced my own fundamental work process reflected in the Indian thought of cyclical patterns.

Painting is about joy. The more you master the technical aspects of painting, the less surprises you encounter. I want to preserve mysteries rather than resolving them. There is unique inspiration in the sense that painting activity doesn't need to be restricted to one’s own self, but that it can in fact  extend beyond one’s own control and consciousness.
My own view of the world had to be united with someone else’s expression. I have always found my voice - my artistic expression - in the clashes between different geographical cultures and histories. When you work with someone else, a world of surprises and wonders emerges.
I regard myself as a body through which relations between things, cultures, people and thoughts can be filtered. India still has a recollection of very refined expressions that we in the western world have lost. By encountering the sensitivity of an Eastern mind, it is possible to counter-act the western craving for fixed identities, copyright, signatures and dissection down to the smallest brush - stroke. My task as an artist is to examine needs and desires that create metaphors and to provoke situations that can further new metaphors. By filtering the decision-making processes through those of others, and by following paths I would not otherwise never have trodden. I have come to realize how important cooperation is to me.

The idea of co-operating with Indian miniature painters began to take shape in January 2000, when I decided to travel to Udaipur, Rajasthan, in October that year to make plans for a working process. The idea or intention was that my stories about water and the images that I associate with water should be passed on to a group of artists who would then make sketches for miniature paintings on the basis of these stories. The paintings were to form an ornament-like process stretching across two large friezes. The friezes were to be assembled making associations to tile-clad bathing rooms that would be created by small rectangular canvasses with vacuum pressed elements attached to them. Since one of the characteristics of miniature paintings is a delicately detailed border around the paintings, the two friezes were to have similar borders made of vacuum pressed saris mounted on canvas. The miniatures were to form part of a huge landscape constructed from vacuum pressed, handmade paper made, alternately, from Indian saris and Daphne fibres as well as paper found in old Indian account books - kagzi paper. Elements from the saris would be floating in the landscape like particles in water.

 

                                        

Without exaggerating Udaipur is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever visited. in stark contrast to the surrounding desert, Udaipur with its marble white palaces, its lakes, gardens, temples and encircling mountains and hills, presents itself as an oasis in a powerful and barren area. The stories of the maharajahs of former days still provide subject matter for the miniature painters whose stories unfold themselves in a web of mythology and genre.
During a pilot study trip I made the necessary contacts for a collaboration. detailed plans were discussed and the process agreed upon. Discussions and tests regarding the correct paper were parts of the start - up work. Various types were purchased and tested. We agreed on approximately 60 - year -old handmade paper, that we purchased 10 km from Udaipur from an old man selling account books.
As one of the miniature painters - Anwar Khan - put it, my stories and paintings required a different mind - a way of thinking that was demanding because it was different!
Since the essence of Indian miniature paintings has always been a symbolic language where painters expressed their relations to nature and what lies beyond the primary functions of lines and pigments, it was not too difficult to explain my stories to the Indian painters from the outset. their readiness and willingness to enter my symbol world was unrivalled. Their professional skills were impeccable. The motifs these artists normally work with are their own compositions in a history - related style - mostly copying former depictions made in earlier time.

    

A long and ancient tradition was to be used in a contemporary manner, thus being adapted to its inherent image-related aspects: the architectural composition of the image plane, a diverse iconography that may both be read and viewed, a rhythmical grammar of ornaments that will sometimes be enforced with strict simplicity and other times with decorated splendour. It was my intention to depict a world in which all things created are animated, woven into a fabric of personal metaphors, some fable-like, involving creatures, others depicting Bosch-like achievements in a world of odd enjoyments, hazy tales and strange references, focused details, built as either vertical or horizontal landscapes.
For around 250 years - from the middle of the 16th and way into the 19th century, India was the scene of some of the world's most bedazzling paintings. circumstances for these paintings were immensely different from painting in the western world. Painters were humble men working in small workshops, and their names have mostly gone into oblivion. their paintings were small. They were born as illustrations for manuscripts, and they were not originally intended as wall decorations. some artists were very original, and even more were talented copiers. No one will ever know whose the  work is that has been carried out. Their production was amazing, much of it was very trivial, but sufficient amounts were so exquisite that Indian museums and private collectors were provided with a plethora of works. Some of the best works still exist, thanks to a large extent to the heirs of patrons of the arts.. Some paintings have hardly seen the light of the day for centuries. in other regards, however, Indian painters shared the traditional fate of all artists: work flourished whenever generous and sensible patrons were around.
In India, reality resemble a folk tale. Folk tales are about fate. The oral tradition of the folk tale has sincerity that appeals much to me.

In what was possibly the first thesis on Hindi painting, Vastusutra Upanishad form the 16th century, you can read that images of deities were originally revealed to wise men in their most intelligent form: the mantra. in other words, the image was derived from sound. The auditive dimension of knowledge links my thought to painting. Painting - or forming any image in general - is a way of listening. I believe in  the voice of the place  in the self. I like being a part of a pattern in tune with the spirit of the past.
In earlier times paper was the most commonly used painting surface. 2-3 thin sheets of paper, often made from bamboo: Gosundi paper - were glued together to a hard cardboard - like surface that was durable enough to receive paint. The painter sketched the basic composition. he would sit on the ground, resting his paper cardboard on his knees. sometimes the sketch was transferred to the painting surface by perforating the  lines with a pin and then strewing powdered charcoal over the holes. When the raw contours were ready, a thin layer of lead-white mixed gum was added. Using the sketched lines that were visible through the white layer, the painter would manage to cover almost all of the drawing with almost all of its details. In between the carefully added layers of paint, the paper was polished to ensure that the pigment particles would set compactly and that they were pressed into the paper. this gave an enamel - like shine and created an even surface that was ideal for further processing.. the sketches were drawn with charred tamarind twigs. brushes were made by attaching squirrel hair to the pen feathers - about 20 - 30 of which only a few separate ones were used for the painting process. The traditional binding agent for the pigment was gum. the pigments were mineral or plant based. The white colour, imported from Persia to the Mughal studios was probably lead - white, and later zinc - white was also used along with white from crushed clamshells. Black from  lamp-black, red from ferrous oxides and red rock, orange from saffron and Sinduri rocks. Lapis lazuli and indigo were traditionally used for blue colours. Indian lemon yellow was usually a fine residue, separated from the urine of cows that had been fed mango leaves. Other shades of yellow were made from roots, leaves of Piyawari - rocks. Green soil was a colour of choice of Mughal - painters in the 17th and 18th century. They used ample layers of it to cover the background in portraits. A light grass green was made from pulverised malachite, and other green shades from copper sulphite - the iridescent gold paint was made with gold leaf mixed with camel grease, honey or gum.

The painters still sit on the ground, resting their painting surface on their knees. Today most paintings are made on silk. it is easier to come by and also a lot easier to paint on. Old paper is hard to get.

Today, painters still grind their own pigments using mortar and pestle and mix them with gum, but they also use chemical colours purchased prefabricated. Gold leaf is still mixed with camel grease, and the surface is still polished with agate. They still use squirrel brushed, but  also goat and horse hair brushes.

There are approximately 10 Art Schools in Udaipur and many more Art Shops and Art Centres. There are around 1000 artists making miniature paintings. Of those only 50 - 60 are professional - the rest are copying. Most Art Schools and the like make a living selling copies of work painted 300 - 500 years ago. A group of artists sit on the floor in small rooms and make copies, others provide work from other places to be sold at the above mentioned places. the artists learn the craft from an older artist. Ususally, they start painting at the age of 14 - 15. If there is a painting tradition in the family, the family will bring on the craft to the next generation. a skilful manager takes care of tourists-demonstrations and displays are made from the available collection. if you so desire, works can be commissioned. It is not necessarily the same painter who creates the entire painting. One might make the sketch, another may make the animals, a third the people,  the fourth the buildings and so on - it all depends who does what better. The objective is to create a perfect product.

Indian miniature paintings are like musical chambers. they should be enjoyed slowly and intensely.

 

Part of some of the stories:

 

A woman and a man stand facing each other. They are naked. Their bodies are

filled with water. From each hole in the body water spurts as from fountains
Water is rising and flooding the land. It reaches to the point, where branches grow out from
the trunk. Instead of leaves you see squirrels.
You see a hand that rises from water. From the finger tips water is bursting.
You see a mountain as if through water. On the mountain top are two eagles with
human faces.
Everything is in uproar - the planet is ablaze - water boils over and everything flees in
the form of bird-like shapes.

 24 stories were told to 2 Indian miniature painters. The collaboration took 3 months. Two large friezes were created – one 240 x 1200 cm – the other 240 x 600cm. The friezes were exhibited and sold and  are today hanging at Silkeborg Music and Theatre House. Silkeborg, Denmark.

I want to thank the Chelawat family, Udaipur for their insight and help teaching me through the years about Indian miniatures and Indian folk art traditions.

 The collaboration with Indian miniature painters have continued during the years, other stories have been told. Each time I’m surprised how the encounter between and Eastern and Western mindsets operate and evolve.

French version:

Bienvenue au Water Palace

 « Sans histoires, l'humanité se serait alanguie et desséchée, comme elle aurait dépéri faute d'eau ». Cardinal Salviati dans « La première histoire du Cardinal » (de Karen Blixen).

 Scènes et sources

J'ai utilisé un arrière-plan du Centre Artistique de Silkeborg-Spa représentant un hydro-sanatorium comme point de départ pour mon projet « Welcome to the Water Palace », qui tourne autour des sensations que l'eau peut exprimer. Tout est eau – l'eau relie le monde aux êtres vivants. L'eau apporte la vie – sans eau nous n'existerions pas.
Une belle histoire, un conte populaire, des épopées fantastiques m'ont toujours fascinée. La substance d'un conte apparaît au premier abord comme le produit d'une imagination débridée. Mais,  à les étudier de plus près, on découvre qu'ils vivent au sein des croyances de leur époque et que leur étrangeté intègre les conceptions religieuses de l'humanité et son interprétation de la nature.
Un conte est un monde en soi, avec une vie propre qui obéit à des lois surnaturelles et poétiques.
Tout au long de l'histoire de la culture de l'Inde, on observe des interactions continuelles entre divers groupes religieux, linguistiques et sociaux, d'où il a résulté une riche et substantielle mythologie, qui, par son ampleur et sa diversité, rivalise avec l'histoire culturelle européenne. Une énorme quantité de contes a été préservée dans les idiomes régionaux indiens, mais les mythes les plus populaires ont accédé à une plus grande diffusion par l'usage du sanskrit - langue suprarégionale – et en étant réuni à des récits épiques aussi anciens que le 4eme siècle. A la racine de la riche diversité des mythes, on trouve le thème central de la tension entre création et destruction. Un trait caractéristique de la pensée indienne est la manière dont l'ordre est issu du chaos  et dont l'univers se dissout dans le chaos, selon un immense modèle cyclique. Un autre thème central est que les choses ne sont pas ce qu'elles paraissent être. Toute réalité est donc illusion. Travailler sur des peintures où le moulage du papier est partie intégrante de l'oeuvre, est en soi une image de la création d'ordre au milieu du chaos- un échange constant entre destruction et construction. Ma façon essentielle de travailler, que j'ai pratiquée pendant les 20 dernières années, je l'ai vue, dès ma première rencontre avec l'Inde, comme un reflet de la vision indienne d'un univers cyclique.
La peinture traite de la joie. Plus l'on maîtrise les aspects techniques de la peinture, moins l'on rencontre de surprises. Je préfère préserver les mystères et non les dévoiler. C'est une source extraordinaire d'inspiration  que de ressentir que l'action de peindre ne s'arrête pas à soi même, mais dépasse votre contrôle et de votre propre émotion. Ma propre vision du monde doit s'accorder avec l'expression d'un autre. C'est dans la confrontation entre des cultures et des histoires géographiquement différentes que j'ai toujours trouvé ma voix – mon expression. Mon œuvre fait écho aux parfums des autres cultures.

Lorsque vous travaillez avec quelqu'un d'autre, un monde se crée, fait de surprises et de merveilles.

La collaboration avec des peintres miniaturistes indiens se devait d'ajouter de l'authenticité à mon travail.

Je me considère comme un corps, à travers lequel des relations entre choses, cultures, êtres humains et idées sont filtrées. En Inde, on trouve encore des réminiscences d'expressions très raffinées, que nous, dans le monde occidental, avons perdues. En se servant de la sensibilité de quelqu'un d'autre comme d'un outil, on contrecarre l'étroitesse d'esprit de l'Occident pour les identités stables, le copyright, les signatures et le « pinaillage » jusqu'au plus subtil coup de pinceau. Mon devoir en tant qu'artiste est de rechercher les besoins et les désirs qui créent les métaphores, et aussi de provoquer des situations qui suscitent de nouvelles métaphores. En passant mes processus de décisions au filtre de ceux des autres, et en suivant des voies que je n'aurais autrement jamais suivies, j'ai réalisé combien la collaboration est importante pour mon travail.

 Les débuts de la collaboration avec des peintres miniaturistes indiens

Les projets de collaboration avec des miniaturistes indiens a commencé à prendre forme en Janvier 2000, quand je décidais de me rendre à Udaipur, en Inde, en octobre de cette même année pour organiser mon programme de travail. L'idée était que mes histoires et mes conceptions concernant l'eau serait communiquées à un groupe d'artistes qui en tireraient des croquis pour des miniatures. Les miniatures constitueraient une ornementation formée de 2 grandes frises. Les frises seraient disposées de façon à créer une association avec une salle de bain carrelée – association établie à l'aide de petits rectangles de tissus sur lesquels des éléments auraient été pressés sous vide. Sachant que l'une des caractéristiques de la miniature est une délicate frange qui entoure le motif principal, les 2 frises devaient avoir la même frange réalisée avec des saris pressés sous vide sur la toile. Les miniatures seraient incluses dans un vaste paysage confectionné à l'aide de papier artisanal comprimé sous vide, papier lui même fabriqué à partir de saris indiens et de fibres Daphné. Pendant ma première visite où mes idées reçurent un accueil très positif de la part des miniaturistes et de mes contacts, je choisissais 10 saris que je rapportais chez moi pour y faire des essais, afin d'obtenir l'effet recherché. Les morceaux de saris devaient flotter dans le paysage comme des particules dans l'eau.  Je préparais des histoires sur l'eau et retournais en Inde  pour y travailler 2 à 3 mois.
Udaipur est, sans exagération, une des plus belles et plus fascinantes villes que j'ai visitées. Contrastant avec le désert qui l'entoure, Udaipur apparaît, avec ses palais de marbre blanc, ses lacs, jardins, temples, et les montagnes et les collines tout autour, comme un oasis de couleur dans un environnement dur et aride. Les histoires des maharanis de jadis dans la ville, procurent encore aux miniaturistes d'aujourd'hui des sujets dont les histoires se déroulent dans des entrelacs de mythes et de thèmes.

 Durant mon séjour exploratoire en Octobre-Novembre, j'avais pris les contacts nécessaires pour une collaboration. Grâce à mon cher ami Shanu Khan, j'avais été présentée aux peintres Anwar Khan et Anil Kumar Sharma. Nous nous sommes rencontrés dès mon arrivée dans l'atelier d'Anwar pour discuter de tous les détails de mon projet. Chaque jour nous examinions le travail de la journée et nous mettions d'accord sur son déroulement. Les manoeuvres préliminaires consistèrent en discussions et tests sur le papier le plus approprié. Nous achetâmes différents types de papier. Le choix se fixa sur un papier artisanal vieux d'environ 60 ans, que l'on trouva à 10 km d'Udaipur chez un vieil homme qui vendait des registres de comptes.

Un autre groupe d'artistes fut contacté par l'intermédiaire du très sympathique Gopal Arora, qui dirige le Centre d'Art Kanhalya Soni, créé en 1975. Gopal contacta Yugalkishore Sharma et Mahendra Soni, qu'il pensait excellents pour une collaboration, i.e. s'adapter à mon iconographie.
Là aussi, le travail se déroulait de la même façon : croquis, discussions et peinture.
Selon l'expression de Anwar , mes œuvres demandaient un tout autre « esprit », une façon de penser très exigeante, parce que différente !
Parce que l'essence même des miniatures indiennes a toujours été un langage symbolique, par lequel   les peintres expriment leur relation à la nature et ce qui se cache derrière la fonction première des lignes et des pigments, il ne fut pas trop difficile d'amener les peintres indiens à comprendre mes histoires. Leur ouverture et leur volonté de pénétrer dans mon univers symbolique furent sans égal. Leur talent professionnel fut irréprochable. Les motifs sur lesquels ces artistes travaillent sont normalement leur propre composition dans un style narratif, ou leur environnement immédiat.

Avec moi dans leurs mains, nous avons pu accéder à une autre forme de monde fabuleux. Nous discutions et corrigions en permanence des croquis, de sorte que le résultat final était aussi proche que possible de mes attentes.

Je travaillais avec deux groupes, parce que je voulais obtenir deux frises différentes, chacune avec son résultat ornemental particulier.

 La rencontre de deux traditions

 Il s'agissait d'utiliser de façon moderne une longue et ancienne tradition et d'adapter les aspects iconographiques qu'elle contient : la construction architectonique de l'image plane, une iconographie abondante qui puisse être lue et vue, une grammaire rythmique d'éléments ornementaux, qui sont quelques fois intégrés avec une stricte simplicité, d'autres fois dans un décor somptueux. Je voulais représenter un monde où toutes les créatures sont animées, tissées en un réseau de métaphores personnelles, certaines comme des animaux fabuleux, d'autres ressemblant à des créatures de Bosch, dans un monde de joie étrange, de récits camouflés et de références  singulières, de détails précis, dans des paysages disposés verticalement ou horizontalement.

Les transformations sont une activité où une forme se change en une autre.

Pendant environ 250 ans – du milieu du 16éme jusqu'au 19ème siècle, l'Inde a été la scène des peintures les plus exquises au monde. Les circonstances, pour ces peintures, étaient totalement différentes de celles de la peinture occidentale. Les peintres étaient des hommes humbles, travaillant dans de petits ateliers, et leurs noms sont, pour la plupart, tombés dans l'oubli. Les œuvres qu'ils peignaient étaient petites. Elles étaient conçues comme illustrations de manuscrits et ne servaient pas à orner les murs. Quelques artistes étaient originaux, mais beaucoup plus n'étaient que de talentueux copistes. Personne ne saurait dire de qui provient telle œuvre. Leur production étaient incroyable, la plupart banale, mais suffisamment d'entre elle assez remarquable pour enrichir les musées et les collections privées indiens d'un grand nombre d'oeuvres. Quelques unes des meilleures œuvres existent toujours, grâce aux mécènes et à leurs héritiers. Certaines miniatures n'ont jamais été exposées à la lumière depuis des siècles. Mais, à maints égards, les peintres indiens n'ont fait que partager le sort de tout artiste : le travail est florissant quand il existe des mécènes généreux et sensibles.

En Inde, la réalité ressemble à un conte populaire. Un conte populaire traite du destin, on quitte sa maison pour être à l'épreuve des vicissitudes d'un destin singulier. La tradition orale des contes populaires possède une spontanéité qui me plaît.

Dans la mythologie de la création, la première représentation de Dieu est un mantra. Dans ce qui est peut être le premier traité sur la peinture Hindi, le Vastusutra Upanishad du 16ème siècle, on peut lire que les images des divinités étaient à l'origine révélées aux sages sous leur forme la plus subtile : le mantra. En d'autres termes, l'image était dérivée d'un son. La dimension auditive de la révélation, relie ma pensée à la peinture. Peindre – ou créer une image en général – est une forme d'écoute. Je pense que l'on porte en soi la voix du lieu. J'aime faire partie d'un paysage en accord avec l'esprit du passé. Cela me manque parfois dans le monde artistique du 21ème siècle, ou chacun peut faire ce qu'il veut !

 A propos du papier et des couleurs

 Autrefois, le papier était la surface la plus utilisée pour peindre. Deux ou 3 feuilles de papier fin, souvent confectionné à partir de bambou -  papier Gosundi - étaient collées ensemble pour faire une sorte de carton suffisamment fort pour être peint. Le peintre esquissait une composition initiale. Il était assis par terre, son carton étalé sur ses genoux. Quelques fois l'esquisse était transférée sur la surface en perforant les lignes du dessin à l'aide d'une épingle et en saupoudrant les trous de poudre de charbon. Quand les contours grossiers étaient terminés, le peintre appliquait une fine couche de blanc-de-plomb mélangé à de la gomme arabique. Aidé par les lignes du croquis, qui transparaissaient sous la couche blanche, le peintre parvenaient à recouvrir tout le dessin de presque tous ses détails. Entre les couches successives de peinture, le papier était poli, pour s'assurait que les particules de pigments ne se dispersaient pas et s'incrustaient dans le papier. Cela donnait un brillant comme un émail et créait une surface lisse, idéale pour poursuivre le travail. On se servait de brindilles charbonnées de tamarin pour réaliser les croquis. Les pinceaux étaient faits de poils d'écureuil attachés à la tige d'une plume – environ 20-30 – dont seulement quelques uns isolés servaient à peindre. La gomme arabique était le médium traditionnel pour les pigments. Les pigments étaient d'origine minérale ou végétale . La couleur blanche, importée de Perse à destination des ateliers Mogholes était vraisemblablement du blanc-de-plomb ;  plus tard du blanc-de-zinc a été aussi utilisé, en même temps que le blanc de coquillages concassés. Noir du noir-de-lampe – rouge de l'oxyde de fer ou de pierres rouges – orange du safran et de pierre Sinduri. Le lapis lazuli et l'indigo étaient traditionnellement utilisés pour le bleu. Le jaune citron indien était habituellement un résidu fin, extrait de l'urine de vaches nourries de feuilles de manguier, les autres tons de jaune provenant soit de racines, de feuilles ou de pierre Piyawari. La terre-verte était une couleur préférée de Moghols aux 17ème et 18ème siècle. Ils en utilisaient de larges couches pour remplir l'arrière plan des portraits. On utilisait aussi un vert clair de malachite pulvérisée, d'autres verts de sulfure de cuivre – la peinture d'or lumineuse était réalisée à partir de feuilles d'or, mélangées à de la graisse de chameau, du miel ou de la gomme arabique. Les peintres restaient toujours assis par terre, leur carton reposant sur les genoux. Aujourd'hui, la plupart d'entre eux peint sur soie. C'est plus facile à se procurer et plus facile à peindre. Le vieux papier est plus difficile à trouver, mais nous nous sommes débrouillés.

Aujourd'hui, on broie encore ses pigments dans un mortier et on les mélange à la gomme arabique, mais on utilise également des couleurs chimiques que l'on achète toutes prêtes. La feuille d'or est toujours mélangée avec de la graisse de chameau et la surface est toujours polie avec de l'agate. On utilise encore les pinceaux en poils d'écureuil, mais également d'autres en poils de chèvre ou de cheval.

Les miniatures de nos jours

 Il y a environ 10 Ecoles d'Art à Udaipur et beaucoup plus de Galeries ou de Centres d'Art. Il y a environ 1000 artistes qui peignent des miniatures. Dont seulement 50-60 professionnels, le reste étant des copistes. La plupart de ces Ecoles ou leurs semblables vivent de la vente de copies d'oeuvres créées il y a 300-500 ans . Un groupe d'artiste est assis par terre dans une petite pièce et font des copies, d'autres emportent des œuvres au dehors pour les vendre. Les peintres sont formés par un artiste plus vieux. En règle générale, il commencent à peindre à l'âge de 14-15 ans, ou bien, s'il s'agit d'une tradition familiale, c'est la famille qui perpétue l'artisanat de génération en génération. Un administrateur efficace sait tenir compte des touristes – démonstrations et expositions des œuvres de la collection dont il dispose. On peut, si on le souhaite, commander l'exécution d'une œuvre choisie.

Ce n'est pas nécessairement le même peintre qui peint toute la miniature. L'un peut réaliser le croquis, un autre peindre les animaux, un troisième les personnages, un quatrième les bâtiments, et ainsi de suite – selon qui est pour quoi le meilleur. Le but est de créer une œuvre parfaite !

Bienvenue au Water Palace

 La révolte est partout – la planète est en feu – l'eau est en ébullition et tous les êtres vivants s'enfuient en prenant des formes d'oiseaux... Un homme flotte dans l'espace, le corps rempli de poissons... Des éléphants stationnent sur les sommets de montagnes – l'eau gicle de leur trompe....
Les miniatures indiennes sont comme une musique de chambre. On doit les savourer lentement, intensément et pour soi.
Anne Vilsbøll.

 

 

 

 

 

KAGZI

KAGZI ( kagzi derived from hagid, the Persian word for paper)

 INDIAN HANDMADE PAPER

 In all cultures papermaking is reflecting the history of that particular country.

After studying different culture’s way of making paper for more than 30 years andvisiting India frequently since 2000, collaborating with a few paper mills, painting and printing on their different handmade papers, without really finding, what I wanted, I decided to begin updating the situation of handmade paper in India in April 2009.
 

We – my daughter Emilie and I - sat out from Udaipur, Rajasthan and our first stop was Gosunda.
I had heard that Mirza Munir Beg’s family left Tashkent for Narol to Haryana 400 years ago to Udaipur to make paper for the royal family, ending up in Gosunda in 1632. At one time 300 people were making paper here, mostly blotting paper. In 1995 Mirza Munir Beg had told, he was the only one left making paper.
We arrived by dirt roads to a tiny square in the village, where in a few seconds we found ourselves surrounded by what seemed to be all the children from the village. We asked about the Beg family and walked a small path, where the house was situated. Lukman Beg, Mirza Beg’s son, was resting upstairs on his Indian bed among garlic and onion on the floor. He quickly organized himself, smiled and welcomed us. His father died January 12^th, 2009, 90 years old! No – Lukman did not made paper anymore, but he was fishing! Together with his wife, he opened a locker and from a small room filled with handmade paper, he pulled out several sheets and gave them to us –old account book paper. His wife took us by the hand, leading us to the place, down the pathway, where they used to work. She opened the big gate and in the small overgrown courtyard, we saw, what once had been a paper mill without a roof. Ruins of the big Hollaender beater, big concrete vats, half parts of the moulds – the chapris (grass mats) missing, were hanging on the wall in a tiny shed. A sad view, but the family had not received help from the government to continue and couldn’t make their living from paper anymore.

The destiny of the old kagzi families all over India.

Next paper stop was Sawai Madhopur, near the tiger-populated ruins of Ranthambhor, in order to find Abdul Haleem, once unable to survive by making paper, he had instead sold Lipton tea and glucose biscuits for years, saving every rupee possible for building a hand papermaking “factory”.

 

Abdul Haleem standing on a post of paper.

 

Haleem's ancestors were all kagzis and on his father’s deathbed, Abdul promised to return to the family’s way of working. He was 72 years old with a long white beard and a very good spirit, smiling eyes and a quick mind. We had chai, seated around a huge table, surrounded by all the family members, studying us curiously. As many other kagzi families, Abdul’s family also came to India 400 years ago to make paper for the emperors. Originally they came from Tashkent, but finally settled in Sawai Madhopur after having moved around. Abdul has been fighting to get support from KVIC ( Khadi and Village Industries Commissions), but has never received anything and is very angry. He won’t give up. Also in India, you have to have your connections to receive goodwill.

Abdul Haleem showed us his paper mill and took us to the kagzi place, where each and every house used to make paper. Now there is only Haleem’s paper place left. Finished cotton paper sheets were drying on line outside the mill. Inside women were sorting out the cotton rags, and a young man was standing at the paper machine, dividing the continuous roll of paper into sheets with his fingers. The papermaking machine was like a Fourdrinier, one of the first machines to produce paper on cylinders. So Abdul’s paper is not always made by hand. He uses mainly cotton rags and recycled paper today. One by one the sheets were piled on top of each other, hung to dry and later smoothed in a calender. Earlier on sheets were dried on lime walls, which gave the sheet recognizable marks from the drying brushes and a smooth feeling and the paper got a crisp sound. We saw the old moulds, which he told, they use for special orders – the Hollaender beater was running – and it functioned! Outside the paper mill we looked down into a deep big well with good water. We saw the pits, where they used to foot stamp the plants into pulp and  we visited the small houses situated around the mills, where beds now were placed on top of the former stone vats. We visited Abduls home, in which he had been born and still live with all his  8 brothers! An interesting meeting, full of life. Abdul’s 3 sons are all working in the paper mill. I look forward to see them again.

Next stop was Sanganer, south of Jaipur, which today is the main centre for handmade paper in Rajasthan with around 50 paper mills operating. Sanganer is also known for textile printing.

 

 

We visited Salim’s Paper, Handmade Paper & Board Industries – a 40 year old paper factory, where they produce handmade and machine made cotton paper. The owner was not there. He is involved with KVIC and in politics. They had a big showroom with all kinds of bags, envelopes etc. The biggest sheets they can produce are 70 x 200 cm. 

 

    Red pulp in Hollaender beater

 

                                       

          

 

 

We visited the A.L Paper House, where the youngest of 5 sons, Imran Khan, is taking care of marketing and sales. He is travelling all over the world. Among many other products, they sell paper boxes to Ikea! They had a very beautiful showroom and a fine variety of many different paper sheets and products – all produced of cotton and recycled paper. They do not make paper from plant pulp, but they add small plant bits and pieces as effect to the cotton pulp, so the sheet of paper gets a rough look! We saw a video about this paper family, where all family members are participating. They are also descendants of kagzi, but have survived in a splendid way.

After visiting several smaller paper units, I had a meeting with the director, Mr. Sharma, of Kumarappa National Handmade Paper Institute. Here they experiment with many different fibres, and this is the place for formal training, but to make industrial paper and export is their focus, not to make paper in the old traditional way: of plants.  Mr. Sharma explained me about  AIVIA and KVIC:

AIVIA ( All India Spinner’s Association and All India Village Industries) founded in 1934, was taken over by the Khadi and Villlage Industries Commissions in 1956 ( supporters of the Craft) = KVIC – who does not support the old way of making paper. AIVIA has evolved into a research centre. The question of what might be required to save the traditional kagzi must be explored in detail. (KVIC seems to not take care of that, which is more than sad = my remark! )

KVIC provides formal training in a Poona paper school and at this above mentioned centre inaugurated in Sanganer in 1994, in Ahmedabad and Hariana. KVIC has been instrumental to the creation of uniformity and modernisation – Westernisation in the majority of paper ventures. Now almost all of India’s paper, other than recycled is made from KVIC-recommended cotton cuttings from garment industry ( which often contains a certain percentage of synthetic fibres). Traditionally – hemp or jute fibres were used to make paper..

I told Mr. Sharma that I belong to the ones lamenting the passing of the craft’s traditional methods. He gave me an address, and I went to:

   

   

 

Zakir Hussain, Hussain Hand Made Paper Udhyog, House nr.175, Maszid ke Pass, Kagazi Mohalla. Through a narrow lane, where numerous paper factories were making grey cardboard paper, we finally found the place, where they still make paper as before: of good strong quality – of plants –  hemp and jute - paper that has a sound and marks from the drying brushes. On the roof of the house, a long white lime wall is used as drying wall. Papers dried this way become flat and smooth and are peeled free, when the water has evaporated. Brushes used to feather stroke sheets onto drying walls are called kunchi or bowara. Sometimes they are made from a soft date palm. Hussain’s wife is still making chapris (grass mat for making paper – made by either chade grass,ravari grass or amaranth and andropogan micranthus, and Zakir Hussain is still sitting down, making paper in the vat enforced in the floor. His family originally came from Bukhara to make paper for the emperors.

 

 

 

 Hussains grandchild is demonstrating polishing the surface of paper with an Agate stone.

 

 

 

Polished paper

 

 

Hussein's paper is strong!

 

 I purchased paper from Hussain and I will continue to do so. Among others the Indian artist Nilima Sheikh is buying paper from him, and he works for many others on orders.

 

 

Old lime walls for drying paper

 

South west of Sanganar is Kishangar, founded in 1611 and recognized for its distinctive school of miniature painting. It was a refuge for artists escaping from the emperor Aurangzeb’s restrictive court. We were shown ruins of papermaking buildings along the shore of the lake by the grandfather Krishna Lal of my friend Mukesh from Udaipur! Mr. Lal also showed us his fine miniature paintings.

                                                                              

 

Krishna Lal

 

AFTER THOUGHTS:

India had very fine papers we simply have not seen much of since the British Invasion where production of industrial paper took over.

 The Muslim invaders brought their culture, religion, art and the art of papermaking to northern India with Mahmud of Ghazni ( 997-1030 C.E.). The Muslim religion relied on paper to record the Prophet’s teachings, just as Buddhism in China, Korea and Japan fostered papermaking in order to preserve the Buddha’s words. India’s indigenous Hindu religion, valuing oral and written transmission, had not created the same need. This is why it took almost 1000 years before paper was produced in India after its invention in China.

 Today the traditional kagzi struggles in a questionable battle to continue. While some lament the passing of the craft’s strictly traditional method, the Indian paper maker has escaped the fate of artisans in other countries, where traditional papermaking rests as museum exhibitions. India, with the undefeatable resilience of centuries of effort, truly possesses a “living craft.” Change and defeat are constantly recycled. The craft adjusts and readjusts and the process of dipping a mould to make a sheet by hand repeats itself for the billionth time by hundreds of artisans.

Accountants and bookkeepers are almost single-handedly responsible for the endurance of the craft during the first part of the 20^th century. They provided a market so a few kagzi around the country could limp along doing what they knew best. It was generally thought that handmade paper lasted longer than commercial paper and therefore accounts, ledgers, deeds, religious texts and important records were more secure on handmade paper. Numerous horizontal, red cloth or leather bound account books are the paper legacy from those days, which one still finds in the darkness of several shops in India.

 Over many centuries Indian art and craft have set standards for the world. Before the last of the traditional papermakers is lost, I hope a few mills will make paper again comparable to the old kagzi paper. Like fine paper in Japan, this paper would find a market among conservators, painters of miniatures, and people deeply interested in Indian culture within India and outside, even if it were more expensive than the "new industrial cotton paper."

One paper maker and paper artist in Kolkata, who learnt to make paper at Glasgow School of Art by Jacki Parry years ago, has set up a very fine paper studio with the necessary equipment.
His name is Anupam Chakraborty: anupam.paper@gmail.com
Anupam teaches papermaking classes in India and make paper from plants as well as his own art work.

 

Anupan Chakraborty

 

In Udaipur my good friend since 2000 Rakesh Paliwal has been running Cellulosic Waste Recycling Project, where I have had persmission to work. Paliwal is now working on a project including women's empowerment, rural handicraft and a better living for rural people. This project also involves papermaking.

 

 

Blue sarees being processed to paper pulp for a project.

 

 

 What is life like for the new Hindu papermakers who do not come from the kagzi tradition? Is papermaking becoming a cultural identity for them as it has been for the kagzis, or is it merely a job?

Why have papermaking and the scribal arts been less able to rise from their own roots than the traditional textile tradition? Might the Khadi and Village Industries Commission change its approach as it sees the growing market for export paper? Might they spearhead the revival of more traditional paper for use by conservators and artists??
How did paper function in past Indian society and with the changes, that have occurred in this century, what is its place in the future?

 

Rags waiting to be processed on paper mill in Sanganer.

Anne Vilsbøll

 Hollaender beater: a paper machine, used to cut fibres..

 Litterature:

Neeta Premchand: Off the Deckle Edge, a papermaking journey through India, 1995

Alexandra Soteriou: Gift of Conquerors, Hand Papermaking in India,

1999