top of page

By:

Correspondent

21 August 2024 at 10:20:16 am

Beacon Blues

India in general and Maharashtra in particular have long waged a rhetorical war against VIP culture. Yet every few months a small incident reminds the country that the old habits of privilege die slowly. The recent controversy over flashing lights on the official vehicle of Mumbai’s mayor, Ritu Tawde, offers another glimpse into the stubborn afterlife of political entitlement. Social media posts earlier this week showed red and blue flasher lights mounted on the bonnet of the mayor’s official...

Beacon Blues

India in general and Maharashtra in particular have long waged a rhetorical war against VIP culture. Yet every few months a small incident reminds the country that the old habits of privilege die slowly. The recent controversy over flashing lights on the official vehicle of Mumbai’s mayor, Ritu Tawde, offers another glimpse into the stubborn afterlife of political entitlement. Social media posts earlier this week showed red and blue flasher lights mounted on the bonnet of the mayor’s official vehicle and its escort car. The images quickly spread online, prompting activists and citizens to question why such lights had returned to the streets. The Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation soon stepped in, announcing that the lights had been removed and even the designation plaque on the vehicle covered. The explanation offered by the civic body was procedural in tone. Vehicles, it said, are allotted to office bearers by the administration once they assume office, and the lights were removed as soon as the issue came to public attention. Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis, defending the mayor, suggesting she was being unfairly targeted for something she had not personally authorised. Yet the controversy is revealing precisely because of its banality. Nearly a decade ago, the Union government took a clear decision to abolish the red beacon culture that had come to symbolise the distance between India’s rulers and its citizens. In 2017 the cabinet amended the Motor Vehicles Rules, banning the use of red beacons atop government vehicles except for emergency services. The reform was widely hailed at the time as a symbolic blow against a culture of entitlement. For decades the red beacon had functioned as a badge of power. Mounted on the roofs of ministerial cars, it parted traffic like a royal standard. Drivers were expected to yield, police to salute and citizens to step aside. In a democracy that prides itself on egalitarian ideals, the spectacle sat uneasily with the rhetoric of public service. The abolition of the beacon was meant to change that psychology. The reform had a theatrical flourish to it, but symbolism in politics often matters. Removing the red light was meant to remind officials that authority flows from the people, not from flashing bulbs on government vehicles. When a mayor’s car is seen sporting the very symbols the law sought to abolish, it suggests that the instinct to mark status visibly still lingers within the machinery of governance. India’s struggle against VIP culture has always been about more than traffic privileges. From airport queues to police escorts, public life still carries traces of an older hierarchy in which the powerful glide past rules that bind everyone else. The removal of a few lights on a municipal vehicle will not transform that culture overnight. Yet the episode is a reminder that vigilance matters. Laws abolishing symbols of privilege are only the first step; ensuring that officials internalise their meaning is a longer battle.

Let’s Talk About That Banana

Updated: Feb 5, 2025

From sacred relics to rotting fruit, the art world’s strange journey offers more than just a tasty bite.

Banana
Maurizio Cattelan, Comedian (banana taped to wall), 2019

The most talked about art work last year was an innocuous grocery store banana duct-taped – without much finesse – to a wall by Italian artist Maurizio Cattelan. Titled Comedian, the 2019 conceptual art piece comes with a certificate of authenticity and instructions on care and replacement when it rots. The 2nd of this limited three edition work was bought at auction in November 2024 by cryptocurrency entrepreneur Justin Sun for $6.2 million including buyer’s fees. Soon after, he ate this very expensive banana. Predictably, this theatre of performative lunacy on the part of the artist, Sotheby’s auction house, and the collector, was taken as evidence that the art world had indeed gone bananas. Author Brian C. Nixon wrote that it was “a commentary on the wild world of contemporary art, communicating how culture understands, interprets, and engages with the arts.”


How did we get from the serene Bodhisattva of Buddhist art to the rotting banana of Contemporary art?


It would be difficult to compress the entire history of art into this (or any) article – a task better left to wiser academics and scholars. To compress it in extremely broad strokes, suffice it to say for our purposes here, that there has not been a time in human history when art has not been created, and it has served a wide range of purposes and agendas over time. From the earliest very basic act of marking one’s presence, to decoration, documenting life, creating imagery for mythology and the supernatural, art was in a sense in service of society. Through a period of patronage from the church and crown, nobles and wealthy merchants, the artist belonged to a certain school, atelier or tradition and largely worked within the confines of stylistic and typological rules of an accepted canon. Of course, artists still found ways to innovate within the boundaries. Raja Ravi Varma went further, blending European romanticism with Hindu iconography to create original work that pays homage to more than one artistic and cultural tradition. As societies progressed and grew technologically advanced, forms of government changed and artists were no longer dependent solely on patronage. Nor were they bound to representing or narrating for an institution or higher authority of any kind, except by choice. Very quickly, artists moved from being the storytellers of a civilization’s traditions to breaking free of those limitations. They became critics of the very society and artistic culture from which they emerged. Many of the 19th and 20th century isms – Impressionism, Expressionism, Surrealism, Cubism, challenged whatever came before, and were constructed on manifestos and theories encompassing ideas from literature, linguistics, architecture and philosophy to opine on socio-political concerns. In the same vein, members of the Progressive Artists Group in Bombay sought to reclaim a post-colonial identity through Modernism, seeking a new vocabulary for Indian art which broke from European academicism.


Catellan’s banana is perhaps best understood as a direct descendent of the Dadaist movement which originated in Zurich as a reaction to the first world war and used satire, leaning towards the absurd, to critique dominant political and cultural ideology. The most well-known example of Dadaist art is Marcel Duchamp’s 1917 piece titled Fountain which was a store bought porcelain urinal hung upside down. Duchamp often repurposed readymade objects of mass production, to suggest that art was a “concept” rather than the “object” itself. Hence the term Conceptual Art.


Catellan has said that his 2019 Comedian, (the title itself announces that it is a spoof) is a “commentary on what we value.” In an earlier interview he posed the question: “On what basis does an object acquire value in the art system?” Does an everyday perishable become art to be gaped at because it is taped to a museum wall? Is a rotting fruit a metaphor for the ephemeral nature of life? The act of its ingestion was a not at all subtle reminder that the money spent on its acquisition was literally going down the toilet in the morning. The publicity it generated led to a world-wide discussion about the meaning and value of art in an increasingly commercial world where it is bought and sold like a commodity. Didn’t the banana then achieve what every artist wants their art to: engage with an audience, hold up a critical mirror to prevailing norms, start a conversation.


Not convinced? You are not alone. It may help to ponder these words from the recently deceased filmmaker David Lynch as you consider the $6.2 million banana: “I don’t know why people expect art to make sense. They are fine with the fact that life doesn’t make any sense.”


(The author is an architect, writer, editor, and artist. Her column meanders through the vibrant world of art, examining exhibitions, offering critiques, delving into theory and exploring everything in between and beyond.)

Comments


bottom of page