ARTIST FUSES NEON LIGHTS, HINDU DEITIES AND BOLLYWOOD GLAMOUR IN COLOURFUL DISPLAY
by AMIT ROY
THE celebrated British Asian artist, Chila Kumari Singh Burman, has spoken to Eastern Eye about how she has decorated Tate Britain in London for Diwali with a swirl of neon lights, Hindu deities, intrepid royalty from Indian history and Bollywood glamour.
Asked by Tate Britain, one of the country’s most popular museums, whether she would like to undertake the annual “winter commission” starting in mid-November, it was Burman herself who suggested that the timing coincided with the festival of Diwali.
The artist’s idea of turning the “winter commission” into a celebration of Diwali because of the coincidence in the timings was warmly endorsed by the director of Tate Britain, Alex Farquharson, who said: “Although our museums and galleries remain closed, I’m delighted that we are still able to unveil Chila Kumari Singh Burman’s new commission. I hope this spectacular transformation of Tate Britain’s façade can act as a beacon of light and hope during dark lockdown days and bring joy to all those who live or work nearby.”
The installation, which can be seen from across the Thames, will remain on view right through Christmas until at least January 31 next year. It is hoped the colourful display will lift the spirits of patients in St Thomas’ Hospital.
Burman said of her nod to the Hindu pantheon: “I have got Lakshmi, Ganesh, Hanuman and bows and arrows to symbolise the Ramayana.”
She has also gone back into Indian history to the brave queen who was a prominent figure in the rebellion against British rule in 1857 and also made use of popular culture: “I’ve done a whole collage of Jhansi ki Rani on one column that is wrapped in vinyl and Bollywood girls on another.”
As to how she managed to decorate the highest reaches of the building, Burman said: “Cherry pickers were used rather than cranes.”
At the very top is a statue of Britannia with a Union flag, but Burman has superimposed that with a depiction of the Goddess Kali, alongside the words, “I’m a mess.”
Burman joked: “That’s how I and so many other people feel when we get up in the morning, but it’s also a political message to reflect the state of Britain today.”
She has characterised her work as “messy, surreal, abstract, zen, feminist, anarchic, figurative, textured, layered and all blinged-up with a razor-sharp political awareness”.
The artist, who likes to smuggle provocative or political messages into her work, took note of “all this discussion about systemic racism and colonialism”.
She used silicon neon lights which are flexible and could be bent into the shapes she wanted rather than ones made in glass.
The museum also pointed out: “In the centre of the installation is a depiction of the third eye, suggesting the route to higher consciousness.”
Incidentally, the van at the bottom is a tribute to her late father who was an icecream vendor when he arrived from the Punjab in India in the 1950s.
This is the fourth in Tate Britain’s series of outdoor commissions to mark the winter season, following works by Alan Kane in 2017, Monster Chetwynd in 2018 and Anne Hardy in 2019.
Burman’s Remembering a Brave New World has been curated by Clarrie Wallis, senior curator at Tate Britain.
The mayor of London, Sadiq Khan, also paid tribute both to Burman and to Tate Britain: “Even when its doors are closed, Tate Britain is able to make a powerful cultural impact on our capital with this bold new work. Chila’s colourful tribute to her Punjabi and English heritage is a great way to mark Diwali’s celebration of light over darkness and will be a symbol of hope during these difficult times.”
Born in Liverpool, Burman’s practice is often inspired by her childhood, according to the museum, which also said: “In this new commission, Indian myths and customs are combined with memories of family visits to the Blackpool Illuminations and her parents’ ice-cream van.
“The façade is resplendent with neon sculptures, including Hindu deities such as Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and purity, and Ganesh, the god of prosperity. Hanuman, the monkey god, and several illuminated animals, including a life size tiger and a peacock, are juxtaposed with luscious lips eating an ice cream cornet and winter snowflakes.
“The installation also includes the figure of Rani (queen) of Jhansi, a fierce warrior and symbol of Indian resistance after she led a battle against the British in 1857. The figure of Britannia is also fused with the neon image of Kali, the Hindu goddess of liberation and power.
“The opening of the Winter Commission coincides with Diwali, the Festival of Light, celebrating new beginnings and the triumph of good over evil. Remembering a Brave New World draws inspiration from personal, social and mythological histories, while offering a sense of hope for the future.
“The commission references mythology, Bollywood, radical feminism, political activism and family memories, bound up in a celebration of neon light and swirling colour.”
The museum said that “Burman is celebrated for her interdisciplinary practice which spans printmaking, drawing, painting, installation and film. Drawing on feminist perspectives and her Punjabi heritage, Burman’s work explores the heterogeneous nature of South Asian identity within a British context while challenging stereotypical notions of Asian women.”
Chila Kumari Singh Burman’s Remembering a Brave New World is at Tate Britain until January 31, 2021
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A seated Jain enlightened teacherAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Ganesha from JavaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
A Chinese silk painting depicting the BuddhaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
ArdhanarishvaraAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Head of a grimacing yakshaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
NagaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
The Bimaran casketAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Hunia Chawla
A still from rehearsal
Them performing liveNajmuddin Saifuddin Qawwal Group
The cast of Marriage Material in key moments from the play, including Avita Jay, Kiran Landa, Omar Malik, Irfan Shamji and Anoushka Deshmukh
Sathnam Sanghera’s 'Marriage Material' adapted into bold new play on conformity
The play Marriage Material at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre is Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s adaptation of Sathnam Sanghera’s novel of the same name, which first came out in 2013.
She is lucky to have Iqbal Khan direct Marriage Material. The play, a co-production with the Birmingham Rep, is set in the late 1960s. Mr and Mrs Bains (played by Jaz Singh Deol and Avita Jay) run a corner shop in Wolverhampton. Their younger daughter, Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh), is 16, her sister Kamaljit (Kiran Landa) is just a bit older.
They have a neighbour, Patwant Dhanda (Irfan Shamji), who, as we shall soon see, is not a very pleasant man. In fact, he comes across just as racist as Enoch Powell, who represented Wolverhampton South West for the Tories from 1950 to 1974.
It will be recalled this was a time when Sikhs working on the buses were told they couldn’t wear a turban. That was a hard-fought battle that had to be won.
The Bains, meanwhile, simply want to get their girls married off.
Nothing new here, I thought.
What makes the tale different is that the plot twists and turns down the generations. Mr Dhanda, who has the makings of a paedophile, makes a pitch for one of the girls when Mr Bains dies early in the play. “A life with no man in the house is no life,” he informs the newly widowed Mrs Bains.
Mr Dhanda has a wife but she has returned to India so he considers himself to be a free man.
Surinder’s English teacher from school, Miss Flanagan (Celeste Dodwell), who is also head of the fifth form, tells Mrs Bains about her daughter: “I don’t want to embarrass you, but she is bright. Ridiculously bright.”
She adds: “Mrs Bains, I think it would be a pity if Surinder didn’t stay on at school.” The initial response from Mrs Bains is not encouraging: “Too much education makes people’s brains get mixed up, they don’t sleep at night…”
But she is finally persuaded that Surinder should be allowed to stay on for a while longer before being married off.
Mr Bains was very old school. When Surinder confides she would one day like to be “a somebody”, he is amused that “my daughter wants to be a somebody”.
“Like you,” she tells her father.
Mr Bains consoles his daughter: “We will find a somebody for you to marry.”
At the point of a possible marriage, however, Surinder is sweet-talked by chocolate salesman Jim Wilson (Tommy Belshaw) into running away with him. They share a love of literature, and he calls her “Sue Bains”. But the relationship does not end well.
Once she has left, Surinder is written off as “dead” by her family. The story that is circulated is that she was only 16 when she was killed in a car crash. That’s better than to let on that she ran off with a white man.
By the time she is reconciled with her sister towards the end of the play, a great deal has changed. Kamaljit married Tanvir Banga (Omar Malik), a young man who helped out in the Bains’ corner shop. When the two sisters meet again, Tanvir has also died. But he and Kamaljit had a son, Arjan Banga (Jaz Singh Deol doubles up for this role after the death of Mr Bains). He has come home after his father’s death to help his mother who is still running the family corner shop.
Meanwhile, Mr Dhanda’s business has prospered. He now has a son, Ranjit Dhanda (the role is taken by Omar Malik after Tanvir’s death), and he is nearly as unpleasant as his father.
Arjan has an English fiancée, Claire (Celeste Dodwell). In London, Arjan worked as a creative director. But after deciding to stay in Wolverhampton to help his mother, he decides he cannot marry Claire because she is white. In other words, Asians are not free of racism, either. Happily, at the end, the couple are reconciled.
As for Surinder, she parted company with Jim Wilson after realising he was all talk, depended on her for money and had failed to earn a penny from his literary pretensions. She had prospered, though, as a hotel owner and had been transformed in time into a well-groomed businesswoman. After being tracked down by Arjan, she decides to return to her roots in Wolverhampton and help Kamaljit run the family corner shop. Perhaps 50 years had passed during the passage of the play.
Being subjected to racism turned some Asians into racists themselves. The word goreh (white person) is repeatedly spat out with venom. Maybe it is worth remembering the play’s audience isn’t exclusively Asian – white folk are watching as well. And maybe some of the toilet humour ridiculing white people, which always makes me cringe, could be cut out.
In Sanghera’s novel, there is a quote from Enoch Powell’s speech in November 1968: “The West Indian or Asian does not, by being born in England, become an Englishman. In law he becomes a United Kingdom citizen by birth; in fact, he is a west Indian or an Asian still... he will by the very nature of things have lost one country without gaining another, lost one nationality without acquiring a new one. Time is running out against us and them. With the lapse of a generation or so we shall at last have succeeded – to the benefit of nobody – in reproducing ‘in England’s green and pleasant land’ the haunting tragedy of the US.”
In Marriage Material, where the acting is marvellous (apart from Mr Dhanda’s Indian mannerisms and accent being overdone) we do travel across a couple of generations.
There is a scene when Tanvir rejects Mr Dhanda’s vision of creating a little Punjab in Wolverhampton.
Mr Dhanda wants to take over the Bains’ corner shop and is putting pressure on Tanvir to sign the papers. He says: “In this country, money is the path to freedom.”
“Sign, please,” he instructs Tanvir. “We must make sure our children learn to behave nicely, according to our rules.”
He insists: “We maintain our identity so we can be ourselves.”
Tanvir disagrees: “We can be us here. With the goreh.”
Dhanda warns him: “Then we will be inviting chaos.”
Tanvir’s comment is telling: “You sound like Enoch.”
Kamaljit, who is expecting a baby with her husband Tanvir, says: “I would like my child to grow up knowing the history of the Gurus and to read the Granth Sahib. And to love their culture.”
Tanvir tells his wife: “I would like my child to go to the finest schools, to cheer for England in the World Cup and eat Yorkshire pudding on a Sunday.”
Kamaljit sets out a dream that has perhaps come to pass with many third and fourth generation British Asians: “Maybe our child can do both.” Much, much later, in a throwback to the past, we learn of Surinder’s O-level results: “Biology A, Chemistry A, English Language A, English Literature A, French A, History B, Latin A, Mathematics A, Physics A…”
Kamaljit tells her younger sister: “Never mind about the B.”
And that is quintessentially Asian. Their acting is outstanding.
Marriage Material is at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until June 21, and at the Birmingham Rep from June 25-July 5