Let me tell you how I feel about one of the most extraordinary paintings of Durga Pujo in the history of art. But before I tell you about the artist, look closely at something almost impossible to describe in this picture: this subtle mingling of colours, shades, patches, strokes, like the embers of fire or miniscule ripples on a very dark silent stream. It is almost as if the artist took tremendous pains to translate the cacophony of sound into colour, transforming an auditory experience into a visual one. It seems to me that he wanted to paint the very waves of sound that were crashing against the air in very finely shredded thread-like splashes. As if the artist Gaganendranath Tagore was trying to paint sound itself!
Gaganendranath Tagore’s 1915 painting, known as “Pratima Visarjan,” is iconic for more reasons than one. Besides its sheer artistic brilliance and its pinnacle of impressionistic achievement, his background of belonging to the famous Jorasanko branch of the Tagore family becomes critical. It was, in large part, a Brahmo family. Since the founding of the Brahmo Samaj in the nineteenth century, Brahmos had been strongly opposed to idol worship in all its forms. One of the founders of the Brahmo Samaj, Raja Rammohan Roy, was famous for refusing invitations to Durga Pujo celebrations. Maharshi Debendranath Tagore, the father of Rabindranath Tagore, used to retreat to the hills or riverbanks during Durga Pujo to meditate in silence instead of participating in the festivities at Jorasanko Thakurbari. Debendranath’s brother, Girindranath, on the other hand, still wanted to follow the family’s traditional rituals. Girindranath’s son was Gunendranath Tagore, whose son, in turn, was Gaganendranath Tagore. So, Gaganendranath was Rabindranath’s nephew.
Today, Gaganendranath Tagore’s painting is something that almost no discussion of Durga Puja is complete without. To me, the painting carries a strange, primitive energy—both celebratory and dissonant. I can almost sense the sounds of Pujo: the drums, the crowds, the onlookers from the balcony telling each other about what they could spot, the surrounding bustle, all transformed into swirls of color. Gaganendranath came from a family that had lengthily debated on rituals, tradition, reform, and indigenous autonomy. And, to me, that makes his choice to reinterpret scenes from Pujo all the more layered. Even if one had never attended a Durga Pujo celebration, this painting would perhaps make it possible to feel something primordial about the atmosphere.
Arup K. Chatterjee 