Subhash awchat biography of barack
An ancient reckoning
By Urmi Chanda-Vaz
’s upcoming exhibition turns the spotlight on the significance of disappearing sacred groves.
The Marathi word ‘devrai’ is a conjunction of two words, dev (meaning god) and rai (meaning forest), which roughly translates to god’s forest. It is a term for a sacred grove — a patch of forest land, which is considered holy by the people who live in and around it.
It is considered home to one or more deities, who reside there either as spirits, embodied in trees and assuming forms of animals such as tigers, as , ie , and bhudevi or the earth goddess. It is taboo to take anything — fruit, twig or even dead wood — from these sacred patches. Exceptions are only under , when villagers gather to cook on fire made from collected twigs and serve it as an offering to the resident deity. The villagers then partake of this communal meal. It is a reciprocal relationship; forest gives to man, man gives to forest.
Many myths, folk tales, festivals, rituals and art forms are woven around sacred groves such as these, and this is true not only of India but many ancient civilisations. Recorded instances and oral legends of such groves can be found in Celtic, Baltic, Germanic, ancient Greek and many other cultures as well. It is rooted in the recognition that man is ultimately dependent on nature for life, and he must, therefore, respect and protect it.
Today, we may scoff at the idea of worshipping trees and animals, but they contain seeds of ancient wisdom. Through reverence and taboo, our ancestors established rules of conservation long before courts and constitutions came into the picture. Declaring certain tracts of land sacred was perhaps the most effective way of protecting key species of plants, birds and animals, perpetuating micro watersheds, conserving natural water bodies, and generally maintaining the delicate balance of the of the area. Today, when faint memories of these ancient practices flash occasionally in our collective (urban) minds in the form of rustic festivals of nature worship, we tend to dismiss them as superstition.
Artist Subhash Awchat has heeded its call. In what may be called a paradigm shift, his favourite saffron palette has given way to verdant shades. His choice of subject has moved from culture to nature, and his mood has changed from the exuberant to that of one seeking solitude.
Awchat is a renowned figure in the literary and artistic circles of Maharashtra, having produced many written and painted works. He is known for his people-centric art. Those familiar with his work might be in for a surprise at , his upcoming solo exhibition, where he presents a unique and extensive oeuvre with a blend of literature and figurative painting — much like the painters of the Renaissance. “I bare myself, releasing a surfeit of emotion and aesthetics,” he says. “Perhaps the sacred forest is in my childhood village of Otur in Maharashtra, which is now unrecognisable and lost to a joyful past. It becomes sacred and sacrosanct in the personal realm.”
His dark palettes, an abstract style, and solitary animal figures all point to the mystique of sacred groves. These groves now exist only on the fringes of our consciousness and at the mercy of environment protection laws. Awchat sums up this change: “Villages such as Otur often suffered from remoteness. Spirituality, the occult and rituals allowed a passage of time, facilitated solidarity and gathering, and gave us a purpose that came with the change of seasons.” According to him, the sacred grove allowed co-habitation with nature, its sacredness offered protection and medicinal herbs during fevers and epidemics. However, all that knowledge is forgotten now. Hopefully, Awchat’s art will help shift some of the amnesia.
The exhibition Sacred Garden will be on view at Jehangir Art Gallery, Kala Ghoda between Dec , 11 am onwards, and at Art & Soul Gallery, Worli from Dec 18 to Jan 7, 10 am onwards. Call: (Jehangir Art Gallery) and (Art & Soul Gallery)
’s upcoming exhibition turns the spotlight on the significance of disappearing sacred groves.
The Marathi word ‘devrai’ is a conjunction of two words, dev (meaning god) and rai (meaning forest), which roughly translates to god’s forest. It is a term for a sacred grove — a patch of forest land, which is considered holy by the people who live in and around it.
It is considered home to one or more deities, who reside there either as spirits, embodied in trees and assuming forms of animals such as tigers, as , ie , and bhudevi or the earth goddess. It is taboo to take anything — fruit, twig or even dead wood — from these sacred patches. Exceptions are only under , when villagers gather to cook on fire made from collected twigs and serve it as an offering to the resident deity. The villagers then partake of this communal meal. It is a reciprocal relationship; forest gives to man, man gives to forest.
Many myths, folk tales, festivals, rituals and art forms are woven around sacred groves such as these, and this is true not only of India but many ancient civilisations. Recorded instances and oral legends of such groves can be found in Celtic, Baltic, Germanic, ancient Greek and many other cultures as well. It is rooted in the recognition that man is ultimately dependent on nature for life, and he must, therefore, respect and protect it.
Today, we may scoff at the idea of worshipping trees and animals, but they contain seeds of ancient wisdom. Through reverence and taboo, our ancestors established rules of conservation long before courts and constitutions came into the picture. Declaring certain tracts of land sacred was perhaps the most effective way of protecting key species of plants, birds and animals, perpetuating micro watersheds, conserving natural water bodies, and generally maintaining the delicate balance of the of the area. Today, when faint memories of these ancient practices flash occasionally in our collective (urban) minds in the form of rustic festivals of nature worship, we tend to dismiss them as superstition.
For this show, Subhash Awchat draws inspiration from a sacred forest in Otur, a village in Maharshtra where he grew up
Artist Subhash Awchat has heeded its call. In what may be called a paradigm shift, his favourite saffron palette has given way to verdant shades. His choice of subject has moved from culture to nature, and his mood has changed from the exuberant to that of one seeking solitude.
Awchat is a renowned figure in the literary and artistic circles of Maharashtra, having produced many written and painted works. He is known for his people-centric art. Those familiar with his work might be in for a surprise at , his upcoming solo exhibition, where he presents a unique and extensive oeuvre with a blend of literature and figurative painting — much like the painters of the Renaissance. “I bare myself, releasing a surfeit of emotion and aesthetics,” he says. “Perhaps the sacred forest is in my childhood village of Otur in Maharashtra, which is now unrecognisable and lost to a joyful past. It becomes sacred and sacrosanct in the personal realm.”
His dark palettes, an abstract style, and solitary animal figures all point to the mystique of sacred groves. These groves now exist only on the fringes of our consciousness and at the mercy of environment protection laws. Awchat sums up this change: “Villages such as Otur often suffered from remoteness. Spirituality, the occult and rituals allowed a passage of time, facilitated solidarity and gathering, and gave us a purpose that came with the change of seasons.” According to him, the sacred grove allowed co-habitation with nature, its sacredness offered protection and medicinal herbs during fevers and epidemics. However, all that knowledge is forgotten now. Hopefully, Awchat’s art will help shift some of the amnesia.
The exhibition Sacred Garden will be on view at Jehangir Art Gallery, Kala Ghoda between Dec , 11 am onwards, and at Art & Soul Gallery, Worli from Dec 18 to Jan 7, 10 am onwards. Call: (Jehangir Art Gallery) and (Art & Soul Gallery)