The Economics of Art

The trip to Hampi from college was extremely special and harboured many cherished memories. One such memory is that of an evening outside the Virupaksha temple there. Come evening, the temple, bedecked with lights and thronged by devotees, assumes a festive look. As outside any famous temple, there was a multitude of peddlers selling snacks, trinkets and other memorabilia. We stopped at one selling little statuettes and other pieces of artistically moulded metal. While picking up our purchases, the usual dose of bargaining that accompanies any purchase in such places ensued.

On the conclusion of our buying there, I remember arguing it out with a friend of mine, Balaji, on how it was ok to bargain for something being sold, even if it is art. On the one hand, mundane arguments of how bargaining keeps a leash on overcharging went on, and on the other, it was held that while one cannot place a price on art in the first place, bargaining is downright sordid. The the result was one where each member stubbornly stuck to his own.

The business of making documentaries on India and screened herein has hit it big in recent times. And quite a few of these have seemingly good looking women hosts, who are Indian more often than not and strike you as being particularly dumb in matters Indian. On one such documentary, an Indian anchor with a British accent was touring Orissa. It then went on to show an old man painstakingly painting thin, closely spaced lines on a small wooden toy with deft strokes of a brush. This got me thinking as to how much effort goes into making every small toy that is present in the heap of toys lying outside temples to be sold to customers.

The toys, by lying in these heaps, have their value severely undermined. Let us compare them to paintings that a "great artist" like M F Hussain doles out. Just because of the setting, one is valued at least a million times better than the other. I admit that my knowledge on contemporary painting isn't equal to one who can speak so disparagingly of Hussain. But I'm sure that the ratio I've put forth is still absurd, even when looked into by an MF Hussain Fan Club founder. The same goes for performing arts. Writers seem to have it a little easier than the rest of the artistic fraternity.

A true work of art touches you so deep that it evokes an almost primitive feeling which cannot be described, for descriptions are, by nature, man-made. It is this that puts a true artist on a pedestal that raises him beyond the scope of other things man-made, such as those of Economics. In the days of yore, there were kings who recognised this valued position of art, rising beyond economic worth. This is why art flourished in those days, patronised by the Kings, to give us masterpieces like Hampi and brilliant performing arts like Bharatanatyam and Carnatic Music. Today, Economics rules us all, and it doesn't take too kindly to art, although nowadays, it is coming to be seen as an art in itself.

Which brings me back to bargaining. My father once encountered a farmer who was selling a bunch of freshly picked lady's finger. He gave the latter how much ever was quoted and brought home the bounty. On finding out my father had paid the farmer slightly more than the market price, my mother called him naive and I seemed to think she was right. My father held that he couldn't refuse to give to a man whatever he asked, for something grown of his own hands. Horticulture, by virtue of its closeness to nature, started off as an art until the machinations of modern machinery have uprooted these links. Today, I am wholly sympathetic with my father and concede to Balaji in that I will never again bargain for a work of art.

The Dog's Day?

07-10-2010, Thursday

It so happens that I've to travel quite a lot to get to my new workplace. Located far away as my home is, there is a choice between a shorter route riddled with construction barriers and a longer, more unfettered route. As saving those few minutes I deemed quite important, I chose the longer route, and on one such circuitous trip, I was inspired to write thus.

The unoccupied mind tends to get on one's nerves, and because of restrictions imposed by the employer, I'm forbidden to bring along electronic devices of appeal, which leaves me either reading, or looking at the city en passant with contemplative eyes. The depth of this contemplation depends upon my state of mind, which is inclined to receive some inspirational tweaks on reading something well written. On this occasion, the proverbial food for thought turned out to be a Navtej Sarna short story.

On its conclusion, I was on the contemplative city gazing routine when I noticed a limping stray dog, and at least from his point of view, his mate, smaller, but able. The protagonist in question was on three legs as his fourth had been amputated half way.

His girl didn't share his eagerness and would've none of his attempts to set the ball rolling, coaxing on, from behind her. Firm bursts of barking were put forth to this end. However, they lacked a degree of bitterness that would've been present if she didn't approve of him at all. An interested onlooker to this ensuing drama was another dog, quite able and on all fours, silently watching these events unfold.

"Why was she playing hard ball?"

"Is it because he was a cripple?"

"Is it because she isn't ready yet? Or does the presence of the onlooker hold any bearing on her decision?"

"Was she merely playing hard to get before eager submission?"

The pleading, pitiable look on the dog seemed to ask these questions, just as I ask them now. However, the bus pulled away from the traffic signal and I never quite figured out whether it was the dog's day.

For once, I was a little sad when the bus pulled away from a signal. It is usually the case that my mind continually eggs the bus on, seeing as how traffic moves slower than a sleep-walking snail in unplanned, construction ridden, and as a result, gridlocked Bangalore. On switching buses at the Majestic bus station, a pen, paper and a well suspended, comfortable Volvo bus seat at my disposal, I'm inspired to pen down my thoughts before the will to do so evaporates. The frequently interrupting Bangalore traffic signals at hand are my allies now. I think I'm going to like this new job.

The Eternal Dilemma (Part2)

Let us look at society today. There are very clearly, blue collar and white collar jobs. While us white collar folks have five day weeks, desks , A/C, paid vacation, and any other perk that we fancy for ourselves, there are some labourers who are paid wages on a daily basis. And more often than not, in a country where labour is exploited, like ours, they are paid for an entire day less than what we make in half an hour.

And then there are employee benefits, retirement schemes, promotions, and so much scope for betterment still. The other side shows us jobs which are mostly handed out by flimsy contracts under cut throat contractors. These jobs are mind numbingly repetitive. They are bound to it for the rest of their lives until they

1. Are killed by an accident on the job
2. Die/Retire due to some occupational disease
3. Are phased out, fired and forsaken when they can be replaced by machines.

The ideal society is supposed to provide equal opportunity for every individual to pursue his dreams. The staggering contrast between that and reality is depressing.

This is seen first hand in a place where manual labour is found in plenty, like process plants. I used to attend classes for half a day in an A/C environment, the other half with Google Reader and Facebook and managed to make more than a thousand a day. I looked into the slip of a labourer who toils all day under the unforgiving Vizag sun and saw 154Rs/day.

So are we better than them because we are more educated? Or is it because we have the systems and the nonchalance to thoroughly exploit them?

The Eternal Dilemma (Part 1)

While reading Thomas Friedman's The World is Flat, I was struck by this thought.

Everyone knows that globalisation is good for the world and is here to stay. Let me focus on one aspect of globalisation that has contributed to its emergence- sourcing labour/ services from where they are cheapest. This is a continuosly increasing trend and this is what has seen so many Indians land good jobs from across the oceans and at the BPOs.

This will mean that given a wage, somebody who can give you maximum output will be employed. There is a catch here. Has anybody looked into what kind of people that gives rise to?

Enter the concept of "hard working" individuals. On the one hand, we are always told all round development is paramount for a good life and on the other, we are told to slave away till we are bathed in sweat at the lowest wages possible. These two worlds are at a constant conflict. To be successful in this scenario amounts to working like typical Indian or Chinese people- work atleast 10 hours a day, 6 days a week. All your life should revolve around work and the occasional social function. These functions are supposed to be where you "unwind". The idea is to meet as many people as possible who are slaving away at their jobs and discuss which firm is the best to slave for etc. Let me remind you that these people have almost no hobbies, are terrible public speakers and have unidirectional ambitions- to excel at their jobs.

Have you noticed the particular dearth of good public speakers from India? Where is there intelligent humour here? Where are our creative pursuits appreciated? Instead anyone pursuing a career in art or aesthetics is thoroughly snubbed. At the same time, we lack knowledge of the world around because we don't travel all that much. We tend to look at people through judgemental eyes and are percieved as narrow minded and disagreeable. At the same time, our rich cultural heritage is taking a beating. How many people realise the value of our monuments, our history and our festivals?

This kind of orientation is happening as early as possible in an Indian's life what with IIT classes from Std 6 and the like. Is this the essence of life? Slaving away till you retire and spend the rest of your life plagued with senility, eternally devoid of any interesting activity?

Nobody can criticise globalisation and hold it solely responsible for these dreary consequences. However, now that our country has moved on from harbouring an image of the poor country where people starve and cows are well fed, we need to rethink on these lines. India and China, which have a similar orientation towards developing career driven citizens, are the leaders of "development" in today's world. What defines development is highly debatable here.

Damn!

The hit counter starts from zero. Where was it when blogging was a fad?

Peepli Peep

Aamir Khan productions and all, so I went and watched Peepli [live] today.

It was fresh. I've never seen a Hindi movie stick to simplicity as it has. There is only as much sensation for it to just about distinguish itself from what happens in a village everyday. But yes. For the ability to fully appreciate this one, one has to understand the countryside dialect used.

Nevertheless, the essence of the movie is conveyed even to people who know average Hindi.

The movie deals with the struggle that rural India continues to grind through. While trying this edgy theme, the producers have decided to keep the tone light, perhaps to not attract the kind of criticism Adiga's White Tiger or Lapierre's City of Joy have. But that was definitely a compromise. In some places, the humour is a tad misplaced. Where the movie could have scored on emotional points and hit a deep string with the audience, this route was chosen. The background score is sprinkled very appropriately with Indian Ocean tracks.

The ever sensationalising media gets what it deserves: A spanking of a lifetime. The movie also scores from an artistic point of view. It is heartening to see Bollywood finally venturing outside its zone of comfort. Besides, any movie where one hasn't to sit through song and dance sequences is most welcome.

Looking back

As soon as I selected the cloud label view, I realised how many useless labels I had. While cleaning this up, I also noticed how much cleaner my writing has gotten through the years. At the same time, I also realise that this process is more like swimming on an infinite upward helix. We are miles from where we have started and have miles to go from where we stand. The important thing is to keep moving higher.

And yes. I am thankful for people in society who'll make sure blogging never goes out of style.