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India Today
4 days ago
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- India Today
Why the Bihar Museum Biennale matters for cultural diplomacy, South-South solidarity
The grand hall of the Bihar Museum in Patna, on a humid August evening, thrummed with an energy that was equal parts ceremony and quiet anticipation. It was here that the third edition of the Bihar Museum Biennale opened its doors to the world—an event whose reach now extends from the Ganga plains to the far edges of the Indian Ocean and chief minister Nitish Kumar, on August 7, unveiled the Biennale's emblem—a stylised Tree of Life—it marked the reawakening of a vibrant Bihar: the ancient capital of wisdom now a powerhouse of culture, reaching out to embrace the global arts community and offering a platform for shared emblem's design fuses the sturdy trunk of the African baobab, the sacred peepal foliage of Asia and the vibrant biodiversity of South America rendered in Otomi and Lliclla textile motifs. More than a mere logo, it is a manifesto of interconnectedness—rooted in the Global South's shared mythologies, belief systems and artistic Bihar Museum itself—and, by extension, the Biennale—was the brainchild of Nitish, part of his broader vision for Bihar's cultural renaissance. From its earliest conception, he imagined not just a repository of artefacts but a living institution, one that would safeguard the state's archaeological treasures while also situating Bihar within a global conversation on heritage and identity. Today, the museum stands as a shining emblem of Bihar's cultural reawakening, a place where the past converses fluently with the present. This edition of the Biennale, titled 'Global South: Sharing Histories', expands its reach beyond India's borders to encompass eight other nations: Sri Lanka, Mexico, Indonesia, Ethiopia, Peru, Argentina, Kazakhstan and Ecuador. It builds upon the legacy of its earlier editions. The inaugural, in 2021, was conducted entirely online due to the Covid pandemic restrictions, with the theme 'Bihar, India and the World: Connecting People, Connecting Cultures In Changing Times'. Even then, it brought together some of India's most respected institutions, from the Assam State Museum to the National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA) in New Delhi. The second edition in 2023 was the first fully on-site Biennale, drawing participants from over 15 countries and incorporating the G20 art exhibition Together We in its third incarnation in 2025, the Biennale deliberately pivots towards the Global South, connecting histories and collections across Africa, South America and Asia. Its curatorial ambition is to trace the networks—maritime, cultural and intellectual—that have historically bound these regions. Through aesthetics, mythologies, indigenous and contemporary art forms, crafts, belief systems and performing arts, the Biennale seeks to weave together narratives that celebrate both shared heritage and rich opening day unfolded as a choreography of formalities and encounters. Nitish, after unveiling the emblem, symbolically cut the ribbon to inaugurate the temporary exhibitions. These ranged across themes as varied as festivals and performances, symbolism and celebration, initiation ceremonies, archaeological excavations, beauty and aesthetics, and wellness from participating countries mingled with curators, visitors and artists, while Bihar Museum director general Anjani Kumar Singh guided dignitaries through the galleries, elaborating on each display's significance and its place within the Biennale's thematic a former IAS officer who has served as Bihar chief secretary in the past, described the Bihar Museum Biennale as a celebration of awakening—a place where cultures meet, converse and recognise one another's splendour. 'It invites the world to step inside and feel the depth, grace and resilience of human creativity. Here, museums are not silent halls but vibrant forums, where curators and thinkers share challenges, trade ideas, and imagine solutions, so that our shared heritage can continue to light the way forward,' said the exhibition spaces, each country's contribution told a distinct story. Sri Lanka's presentation explored the interplay of identity, beauty and struggle through contemporary artworks. Mexico offered a dual perspective—Maya-inspired visual pieces from artist Eva Malhotra and a collection of pre-Hispanic artefacts, textiles and photographs that evoked the country's diverse cultural layers. Indonesia's Bridge of Civilisations celebrated the enduring connections between the archipelago and India, from shared Sanskrit vocabulary to parallel epic traditions. Ethiopia's Mihiretu Wassie constructed hypnotic narratives from buttons and leather, drawing on the textures of traditional premier Indian cultural institutions also anchored the programme. The ICCR's (Indian Council for Cultural Relations) Vishwaroop Ram: The Universal Legacy of the Ramayana assembled artefacts, traditions and performances from 20 countries, revealing how the ancient epic travelled across oceans and languages, shaping moral codes, art forms and communal memory from Bali to the Caribbean. The NGMA's Our Worlds and Ourselves explored identity and solidarity across the so-called periphery while the IGNCA's (Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts ) Spiritual Crossing delved into the significance of masks and the symbolic, performative and ritualistic dimensions of this age-old art form.A day before the event unlocked a cultural door, the city itself became part of the Biennale through a heritage walk that stitched together Bihar Museum, Buddha Smriti Park and Patna Museum. This was more than a tour; it was a gentle reminder that cultural heritage is not confined to vitrines but lives in streets, courtyards and shared calendar of exhibitions stretches over the coming months, ensuring that the Biennale is less a passing event than a sustained cultural season. September will bring Argentina's photographic journey through the lens of Pablo Katlirevsky and a retrospective of Patna Kalam painting—one of the earliest art traditions to place everyday life on will see Peru's textiles and pre-Inca ceramics alongside Kazakhstan's deep historical survey of power and nomadic culture. November will open with Home in a Space Left Behind, reflecting on diaspora and memory, and Ecuador's Origin of Cacao, tracing the crop's 5,500-year journey from Amazonian domestication to global commodity. From November 7 to December 31, the Mehrangarh Museum Trust will present Shakti—The Supreme Goddess, a miniature-painting tribute to the Divine Feminine in her many parallel to the exhibitions are the Biennale's discursive and performative programmes. In early August, two days of seminars brought together scholars, artists and curators to discuss subjects as varied as music as a vessel for migration and resistance, the political and sacred dimensions of masks, gender and power in sacred art, and the architectural embodiments of Biennale is not without its symbolism. To convene such an event in Patna—a city that has long wrestled with the weight of its ancient past and the unevenness of its modern growth—is to assert that Bihar's cultural capital is not a relic but a living, dynamic force. The museum, in its architectural grace and curatorial ambition, signals a confidence in the state's ability to host and shape international cultural its inception as Nitish's vision, the Bihar Museum Biennale has grown into a rare platform for cultural diplomacy, interdisciplinary exploration and South-South solidarity. It asks visitors to see beyond political borders, to recognise in a Sri Lankan mask or a Peruvian textile not just an artefact but a thread in a larger weave of human creativity and the exhibitions and conversations unfold over the next five months, the Biennale will continue to draw in artists, scholars, students and the simply curious. Beneath the metaphorical branches of its Tree of Life, it offers a space where narratives of trade, devotion, migration and resistance intertwine—rooted in Bihar's soil, yet reaching out across oceans. In this, the Biennale embodies exactly what its founder imagined: a museum, and a state, not content to merely preserve the past but determined to participate in shaping the cultural conversations of the to India Today Magazine- Ends
Irish Times
28-07-2025
- Irish Times
Ten days in Mexico: ‘Is it dangerous, everyone wants to know'
'Had you come here a few years ago, all of this would have been dirt.' It's a sweltering morning in Mexico and our guide, Manuel, is leading us along a dusty path at the ruins of Teotihuacán, an ancient city 50km northeast of the capital. Already today, we've climbed the hazardous steps of what everyone calls pyramids. (They're not pyramids, Manuel insists, they're geometric shapes, with no point at the top, and were built to replicate the mountains that flank them.) We've learned about human sacrifices, days named after animals, the importance of corn. Now, Manuel is pointing towards a network of low walls, demarking apartments of those who once lived here. No one knows for certain who these people were – they were pre-Aztec, possibly Otomi – but excavations continue to uncover more about their once-powerful civilisation all the time. I point to the other side of the path, where patches of grass, cactus and agave grow from red dirt. 'What about over here?' I ask, jokingly. 'What might be hidden under our feet?' Quite sincerely, without missing a beat, he says 'a whole world'. READ MORE Indeed, there's likely far more to be unearthed beneath the soil at Teotihuacán, if only funding would allow (some estimate that only 3 per cent has been explored so far). But Manuel's projections also seem an apt way to describe Mexico itself; a country you could explore for years and still only scratch the surface. The good news: direct flights will soon operate from Dublin, with a new Aer Lingus route starting January 2026 . The bad news: those flights are to Cancún, the Americanised resort area on the Caribbean coast. Go for the sunsets and the cenotes, but to see the best of Mexico, you need to go further afield. In May of this year, my husband and I spent five days in Mexico City (or CDMX – Ciudad de México), and five days in Oaxaca de Juárez, the capital of the nearby state of Oaxaca. Connecting flights to CDMX from Dublin are available from a range of carriers. We booked with Iberia, and flew via Dallas, spending about 12 hours in the air, across two flights. [ Direct flights to Cancún may say more about the US than Mexico Opens in new window ] Is it dangerous, everyone wants to know upon hearing of our trip, as though we might happen upon a drug cartel at the hotel breakfast. CDMX is the largest city in Latin America. There's severe wealth inequality, and according to statistics, the crime rate is high, with much of it concentrated in the northern and eastern regions. We stay in the upscale area of Roma Norte. With its tree-lined streets, colourful facades and kitsch Marian shrines, questions of safety seem strange and obscure. Only the roaming pickup trucks upon which groups of policemen stand upright, armed with machine guns, give any allusion to a lurking threat. Originally built on a series of islands, CDMX now sits on the drained basin of Lake Texcoco, with centuries of history – from Aztec temples, to colonial cathedrals, to modern skyscrapers – layered on top. The city perches more than 2,000m above sea level – higher than San Moritz, higher than Flagstaff, just shy of the famously elevated distance-runner's haven of Iten, in Kenya. Combine this with a seven-hour time difference, and tiredness is inevitable in the first few days. Ancient Teotihuacán pyramids and ruins in Mexico City. Photograph: Getty Images But with jet lag comes blessings. We rise early and drink coffee in Roma Norte's speciality coffee shops.. We choose the 7am start for a trip to the aforementioned Teotihuacán, beating the crowds and the worst of the day's heat. A variety of tours are available from sites such as , and others. The hot air balloon option is popular among those not terrified of heights, but we choose the half-day tour, for $850 MXN (€39) including shuttle, entrance fee and guided tour, and are not disappointed. Driving out of the city, its scale announces itself. We pass a colonia populare with a population of around half a million. The valley heaves with squat, colourful cubes. Niamh Donnelly and her husband, Gerard Claffey at Xochimilico Later that day, we take an Uber to the main square, Plaza de la Constitución. An enormous Mexican flag – possibly the biggest flag I've ever seen – floats majestically in the thin air. This is the square you see on postcards and in promotional images, home to the national palace and the Mexico City Metropolitan Cathedral. All around, people fly kites. At the flag's base, a man lies sleeping. We walk down a busy street, where shops sell wedding dresses, suits and sunglasses, and street vendors display plastic cups lined with red powdery substance we will later learn is for micheladas , a drink that mixes beer with sweet syrup. In Mexico, if it can be made sweeter, it will. An impromptu mariachi dance party takes place to one side. A motorcycle tears down the road carrying a rottweiler. The Palacio de Bellas Artes, with its iconic yellow-orange dome, stands gallantly on Avenida Juárez. Several Diego Rivera murals are displayed inside, but it being Monday, the place is closed. Across the way, Edificio la Nacional, one of several art deco buildings in the city, looks practically quaint compared to the high rises that proliferate. When it was built in 1932, it was the city's first skyscraper. The Alameda central park and Palacio de Bellas Artes in Mexico City. Photograph: Getty Images Frida Kahlo's bedroom at her home in Mexico City, which is now a museum. Photograph: Shawn Goldberg/SOPA Images/LightRocket via Getty Images Five days, it becomes clear, is not nearly enough to take in this sprawling metropolis. Two things we decide are unmissable: the Frida Kahlo Museum (my choice) and Lucha Libre (my husband's). We manage to fit both into one jam-packed day. The Blue House, or Caza Azul, in which the renowned artist spent most of her life, has been preserved as a museum, integrating some of her best-known artworks. It is situated in the dreamy borough of Coyoacán, not far from the house in which Russian revolutionary, Leon Trotsky, spent three years in political asylum. Both can be visited in the same morning – indeed this is an ideal way to get a picture of the pair's intersecting lives. (Kahlo hosted Trotsky in the Casa Azul when he first fled to Mexico. The pair are said to have had an affair while she was married to Rivera, and he to Natalya Sedova). Entrance to the Trotsky Museum is pay-on-arrival, at $40 MXN (€2), but for the Kahlo Museum, booking in advance is necessary. Tickets cost $320 MXN (€15) via . After a blissful morning entrenched in bohemian Mexico of the 1930s, we grab lunch at a nearby sports bar, then high tail it back to Roma Norte, where our Lucha Libre tour is meeting. For $1,500 (€70), we get tacos at a local taqueria; beer, mezcal, and pulque (a drink made from fermented sap of the maguey, or agave, plant) at a traditional cantina; a potted history of the sport; tickets to the event; and souvenir masks. The famous freestyle-wrestling spectacle is the most-watched sport in the country, after football and boxing. In the iconic Arena Mexico, servers walk around selling hot dogs, popcorn, drinks. Women in short red skirts and cropped white T-shirts dance as the equally objectified and scantily clad luchadors make their entrance. There are impressive acrobatics and outlandish storylines. Between fights, a kiss-cam appears on-screen. Everything is incredibly camp. The referee is a large man who can tumble exceptionally well, but never makes it to three when he counts to signal a pin fall. From the bleachers, we bleat chants and whistles we've been taught by our guide – the more vulgar the better, we've been told, and who are we to disagree. By the fifth day, we haven't seen nearly as much as we would like. In a toss-up between visiting the nearby city of Puebla, and taking a trip on traditional trajinera boats in the Unesco-listed neighbourhood of Xochimilco, the latter wins, ending up being the best activity yet. With a group of fellow tourists (all of which, bizarrely, are either from Ireland or have some connection to it), we float through an ancient Aztec canal system as our guide fills us with ghost stories and beer. We play games of loteria (bingo), make cocktails, sing karaoke. They say you don't drink shots of Mezcal, you kiss them. We kiss so many shots of Mezcal we almost miss our flight the next morning. Oaxacan street art Oaxaca de Juarez, a state capital with a population of around 700,000, turns out to be a completely different world to the one we've just left. For one, much of the city is walkable. And planning laws restrict the height of most buildings to two storeys and the colour palette to two colours, creating a charming, small-town effect. Known as Mexico's food capital, the city wears its culinary badge proudly. For breakfast, our B&B serves up chilaquiles verdes y rojos (tortilla chips softened in salsa), huevos zapotecos (scrambled eggs with cactus, tomato and onion, served with black beans and tortillas), and lots of salty, stringy Oaxacan cheese. On a free walking tour, our guide tells us about the region's 16 indigenous languages, and the various festivals it hosts throughout the year. On the most famous of these, Dia de Las Muertos (the day of the dead), the population swells with visitors as the city comes alive with parades. Activity revolves around the zócalo (main square), home to restaurants, markets, government buildings, shoe shiners. Bunches of balloons and children's toys are for sale on every corner. Day after day, dozens of protesters stand in remonstration over young people who went missing in suspicious circumstances. Demonstration is not unusual in this politically engaged city. Messages in support of Palestine, or against gentrification, are scrawled on walls everywhere. Hawkers tout bracelets with messages including F**k Trump, Dump Trump. On a separate, street-art tour, we learn about the activist messages in some of the murals. Others contain more whimsical, or mystical, meanings. La Catrina – the skeleton woman with the wide-brimmed hat – recurs, a symbol of the Mexican attitude towards death. So too does the xoloitzcuintli , a breed of hairless dog believed to be the guardian of the other world. If the living person has treated animals badly, our guide tells us, their soul will be refused entry to heaven. In the markets, rows of dead chickens hang naked for sale. You can eat a grasshopper, if you dare. The comida corrida (food corridor) at Mercado 20 de Noviembre, is a chance to sample a three-course offering of local cuisine for around $100 MXN (€4.50). The Hierve el Agua mineral pool Once again, we find ourselves with more to see than could ever fit into our itinerary. Hierve el Agua, one of only two petrified waterfalls in the world, seems a standout choice. The bus climbs and climbs, up the Sierra Madre Sur. From the car park, we hike into the valley, where we can touch the smooth travertine rock formation, then back up again, in sweltering 35 degree heat. At the summit, mineral pools sparkle tantalisingly at the edge of a cliff. Other tourists are already bathing, taking Insta-perfect photos. We strip to our swimsuits and lower ourselves in, then wade to the edge. Acres of green trees and fields stretch for miles below. Mountains stand resplendent in the Mexican sky. Birds of prey swirl hypnotically overhead. Our shoulders are burning, but we don't feel it, up here, on top of the world.
