Latest news with #VisvesvarayaIndustrialandTechnologicalMuseum
Hindustan Times
11 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Hindustan Times
Art and the Man: In memory of K Venkatappa
On Kasturba Road, abutting Cubbon Park, is a set of three adjacent buildings that feature in every 'Things To Do In Bengaluru' list. The first, if you are heading down from Queens Road, is a nondescript rectangular structure, with an actual Marut – the first Indian-developed jet fighter, conceived and manufactured at Hindustan Aeronautics Limited in the 1960s – in its front lawn, which houses the exciting, interactive Visvesvaraya Industrial and Technological Museum (VITM). The second, whose name and purpose elude many Bangaloreans, is the magnificent neoclassical structure designed by Col Richard Sankey in 1877 and painted an eye-catching Pompeiian red (psst, that is the Government Museum, which contains many priceless historical artefacts, and is currently under renovation). The third, a plain modernist building set back from the road and originally designed to stand in the middle of an artificial island, is the Venkatappa Art Gallery (VAG), established in 1975 primarily to house the works of one of the most celebrated artists of the erstwhile Mysore state. Many Bangaloreans believe that the red building is in fact the VAG, but that kind of mix-up is less likely to happen going forward; last week, as part of its golden jubilee celebrations, a swank, state-of-the-art VAG, renovated by the Brigade Foundation, reopened to the public in the same location. His artistic talent – he came from a long lineage of Chitrakaras, court painters patronised by the Mysore kings – was spotted early, by the Maharaja of Mysore, Nalvadi Krishnaraja Wadiyar, who urged the lad to hone his skills at the Government School of Art in Calcutta. Arriving in Calcutta at 23, Venkatappa spent the next seven years studying under Tagore, alongside peers like Nandalal Bose, the pioneer of modern Indian art, and Asit Kumar Haldar, one of the major artists of the Bengal Renaissance. Like other artists of his generation who grew up in the ferment of nationalism, Venkatappa strove to create a new paradigm of art that was resolutely 'Indian'. But his reluctance to align himself with any artistic school, his rejection of important commissions that did not, in his estimation, compensate him adequately, or interfered with his artistic style (he preferred working in watercolours, when oils, inspired by Raja Ravi Varma, were all the rage in Mysore), and his habit of frequently neglecting his art for his music saw him produce far less work than his contemporaries. He may have faded into obscurity were it not for the Irish poet and theosophist James Cousins (famously responsible for nudging Kannada poet laureate Kuvempu into writing in his mother tongue after the latter solicited Cousins' feedback on his collection of poems in English), who, taken by Venkatappa's talent, recommended him to Nalvadi's brother, the Yuvaraja, in 1924. A royal commission followed soon after – a series of bas reliefs for the Mysore Palace, with a studio in the palace thrown in as a bonus. Venkatappa accepted, but he was by then so deep into his 'Ooty watercolours' phase (during which he produced some of his finest work) that delivery of the reliefs was inordinately delayed. With the death of Nalvadi in 1940, Venkatappa lost his most loyal patron. The new king, Jayachamarajendra Wadiyar, summarily dismissed the artist and evicted him from the palace. Furious, Venkatappa sued the Palace, but in vain. He produced no more new work until his death in 1965. That the state government should have, despite everything, set up a gallery for his work 50 years ago, is clearly a testament to K Venkatappa's relevance and impact as an artist. But go visit the VAG, and judge for yourself! (Roopa Pai is a writer who has carried on a longtime love affair with her hometown Bengaluru)
The Hindu
13-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
Exploring Bengaluru's complex relationship with water
We all know that Bengaluru was once known as the city of a thousand lakes, but did you also know that it was also once watered by many rivers? From the Arkavathi, which originates in Nandi hills, to the Vrishabhavathi, which is believed to have been born in this very city and the Dakshina Pinakini traversing through the eastern ends of Bengaluru, including Chikkaballapur, Hoskote, Malur, Kadugodi, and Sarjapura, 'the city once had a network of rivers and natural streams flowing through it,' states a story map at Waterscapes of Bengaluru, a new exhibition jointly developed by the Visvesvaraya Industrial and Technological Museum (VITM) and the Paani Earth Foundation. The exhibition, which is being held at the VITM and will include workshops, expert interactions, and demonstrations, is open till Independence Day. 'As August 15 approaches, through these efforts, we hope the rivers will finally get the attention they deserve, with tangible steps taken to set them free,' says Jyoti Mehra, curator at VITM, which has partnered with numerous city-based organisations, including WELL Labs, Biome Environmental Solutions, MOD Foundation, Mythic Society and Ecosattva for the initiative. Relationship with water Waterscapes of Bengaluru: Flows and Futures of our City's Rivers and Lakes, which takes visitors on a journey through the city's evolving waterscapes, from ancient wisdom to modern-day challenges, explores 'the city's relationship with water, which has always been complex,' she says. Through a series of digital interactives, games, puzzles, and hands-on water-based activities, the organisers hope to provide visitors with an immersive experience to help them learn about the background and threats faced by the city's rivers, once central to the city's ecological balance, but now heavily encroached upon and polluted. They will also get to explore Bengaluru's ingenious network of interconnected lakes, tanks, and open wells that once captured seasonal rain and supported everyday life, but is today largely distorted due to rapid urbanisation, resulting in dependence on large-scale water supply schemes like the Cauvery project, which pumps water over 100 km uphill to reach the city, says Mehra. According to her, the explosive growth of Bengaluru's population from 0.16 million in 1901 to over 14 million today and widespread concretisation has forced the city to draw over 50% of its water from the ground. 'The struggle to balance growth with its fragile hydrology is a constant one, which has led to people digging deeper, drawing farther, and reaching wider in search of water,' she says, adding that the warning signs to the health of our water system are obvious: frothing lakes, floods, and failing borewells in the city. While this exhibition is a stark reminder of the acuteness of the crisis, it also celebrates the revival of water wisdom, from the K-100 project to the Million Wells Campaign to lake rejuvenation projects and urban wetland protection. 'These efforts are living blueprints for a future where water is co-owned, co-managed, and co-created by all.' Public sensitivity The exhibition idea emerged rather serendipitously. Mehra was part of a panel discussion at the Energy and Resources Institute (TERI) focusing on sustainability and climate change when she met Madhuri Mandava, the co-founder of the Paani Earth Foundation. That is when she first learnt about the rivers of Bengaluru; till then, the only river she had associated the city with was the Cauvery. 'Once that happened, I realised that would be apt to bring the story of rivers here…present a broader perspective of the whole waterscape of Bengaluru,' she says of the exhibition, which she believes is especially timely given that it is now peak summer, when the city often experiences an acute water shortage. 'The moment monsoons come, people forget. So, it is a very seasonal unrest that happens,' she says. 'We wanted to tap into that and sensitise the public.' In her opinion, having people visit, experience this narrative and participate in various activities could be important in reviving our water bodies and managing water more sustainably. 'Water is not just an environmental issue. It has a scientific basis…emotional and cultural aspect to it,' says Mehra, who believes that using a mixture of artwork, mythologies, histories, maps and graphics to tell the story of water helps draw more people into its conservation. 'Knowledge is spread on many platforms today, but a museum space needs to focus on the engagement aspect,' she believes. 'Education and sensitisation cannot happen without engagement.' Exhibition walkthrough The exhibition uses a first-person narrative technique to tell the stories of the city's rivers. 'You can imagine whatever you want, what she is feeling…something like a living being,' says Mandava, who feels that structuring the narrative this way will help visitors have a personal connection with these water bodies. Another aspect of rivers, in connection to Bengaluru, that is explored is how the Cauvery is often reduced to being a source of tap water for most Bengalureans, rather than a living, breathing entity. According to an exhibit, the Bangalore Water Supply and Sewage Board (BWSSB) spends nearly ₹3 crores daily on electricity for pumping water, making the water from Cauvery one of the most expensive sources in this country. Additionally, 'the moment you have river water coming through a pipe, you don't consider that the lake or tank next door needs to be preserved,' believes Mehra. 'And when you ignore it, it becomes a stagnant water body, losing its vitality and ecological function,' she says, a sentiment reiterated by an exhibit titled Bengaluru's Legacy of Living Lakes. The exhibit, which discusses the cascading, interlinked design of lakes, many of which were developed during the reign of Kempe Gowda in the 16th century, dwells on how the city destroyed its water web and its far-reaching consequences, including frothing, fish kills, flooding and water contamination. 'Many of these lakes have been converted into malls, playgrounds and bus stands, and the catchment points are all gone,' says Mehra, while Mandava adds, 'We have lost the big picture. Everybody looks at a lake as an isolated water body, but one forgets that it eventually flows into the river, coming back as 'food or milk for us,' she reminds us, pointing out that in the Vrishabhavathi basin, for instance, farmers grow cattle fodder and baby corn. 'This comes back to Bengaluru in huge amounts.' Success stories Despite the dire situation, the exhibition offers hope, sharing details of solutions such as rainwater harvesting, recharge wells and citizen-led initiatives for lake rejuvenation. It also highlights some success stories, including the K-100 project, an initiative by the Bruhat Bengaluru Mahanagara Palike (BBMP) in collaboration with architect and urban expert Naresh Narasimhan of Mod Foundation, which transformed a stormwater drain into an attractive and usable public space and the revival of Aurangabad's Kham river. 'It was about bringing together different organisations' work,' says Mandava, who sees the exhibition as a platform to unite all these groups. 'Bengaluru is one of the luckiest cities because of its numerous citizen groups and scientific institutions,' she says. 'We need to figure out how to come together and look for holistic solutions.'
