The art world mourns the loss of BN Goswamy, a towering figure in Indian art history who left us last week. Goswamy’s legacy is profound, marked by his unparalleled scholarship and dedication to unravelling the intricacies of India’s artistic heritage, particularly the Pahari school.
I can talk about so many of Goswamy’s books (and there are a number of them), but allow me to stay focused on one for this particular post. It’s called Pahari Masters: Court Painters of Northern India, a journey that feels like a cherished dialogue between the medieval artists and the mystical Dhauladhar mountains that are now my home. As someone intimately connected with this region, these tales of courtly artistry resonate with me on a personal level.
The Pahari Masters: Nainsukh and Manaku
Two names often sprout up in any conversation on pahari paintings: Nainsukh and his brother Manaku, both 18th-century painters from the Kangra school.
Nainsukh is celebrated for his delicate miniatures, capturing courtly life and nature with finesse. Manaku, on the other hand, is known for his vibrant depictions of Hindu mythology, contributing significantly to the Pahari painting tradition. Together, their art reflects a harmonious blend of spirituality and aesthetics as the book tells us.
Now let’s take you on a picturesque journey
In the courts of Northern India, where the Himalayas cast their ancient shadows, artists like Nainsukh brought the canvas to life with strokes that echoed through the valleys. In this particular book, Goswamy’s words become a bridge between the past and present, invoking not just the aesthetics but the very essence of those bygone moments.
Turn the pages, and the celestial drama of Manaku’s “Krishna Lifting Mount Govardhan” unfolds, much like the dramas enacted by the mountains themselves. The play of light on the canvas mirrors the ethereal dance of sunlight on the peaks, and Krishna’s divine act becomes a cosmic ballet that harmonises with the natural wonders surrounding us. It’s not just art; it’s a conversation between the artists and the mountains, a shared language that transcends time.
As we delve into the narratives, Raja Balwant Singh of Jasrota steps forward, a figure whose cultural amalgamation mirrors the diverse influences that echo through the valleys. Goswamy’s storytelling isn’t distant academia; it’s a fireside chat that brings history to life. The portrait becomes a window into a shared heritage, where the Raja’s pride aligns with the deep-rooted sense of belonging one feels while in the mountains.
The book further unveils the intricacies of Pahari artistry, and I can’t help but feel a kinship with the artisans who adorned even elephants with miniature tales.
Imagine wandering through the Dhauladhars with an elephant adorned in painted stories—a metaphor for the rich fabric of life, nature, and artistic expression that surrounds us. Goswamy’s narrative becomes a trail guide through these artistic landscapes, offering glimpses into the vibrant worlds hidden within each brushstroke.
Final words on the book
“Pahari Masters” is a book that kept reminding me with my own connection with the mountains and the artists who once graced these courts. In the shelter of the Dhauladhars, the symphony of art and history orchestrated by BN Goswamy offers you a heartfelt invitation to savour the echoes of a shared past. It’s a contemplative walk where the artists become companions, and their strokes resonate with the melodies of the valleys.
Kalampedia 
