makeover.
 
And yet that's hardly a new proposition, what with Western artists having painted mythological and religious works for decades under British rule.
 
Even the concept of kitschy calendar art that characterises so much of what passes for streetside religious art in India borrows heavily from Western influences, especially since these were first given a leg-up with the Ravi Verma printing press.
 
The Ravi Verma oleographs are now collectibles, but they had gone on to spawn an entire industry of art (in which Mirabai, for instance, bears a striking resemblance to Hema Malini, and Lakshmi to the very filmi Vyjanthimala), most noticeably in the printed works from Sivakasi, Tamil Nadu.
 
But no longer are our gods and cultural icons being designed or painted or patterned in India alone, and some of the world's most expensive brands have moved in to claim their share of Indian memorabilia.
 
The basis for this is two-fold: Indians are as drawn to the cute shepherdesses and cow-girls of living room clutter as the average Jane but balk at paying the kind of prices companies such as Lladro command for them.
 
Therefore, in a move to familiarise the market with its range, as well as win emotional support, the company had begun by offering a porcelain Ganesh that, in the two years since it was launched as a limited edition collectible, has more than quadrupled in value.
 
Lladro, thus, has a winner on its hands. Logically, it has increased its range of Indian figurines to include a Krishna accompanied (but as a separate piece) by a sacred cow on one hand, and a bharatnatyam dancer on the other.
 
The Krishna figurine is delicate and responds to the format that requires subjects to be "feminine" or "elegant" in the Lladro mould, but for all that, one can't help feeling a sense of dejà vu.
 
Is this the equivalent of calendar art all over again? The works aren't akin to the sculptural style of Indian art, and the imposition of Western sensibility seems to invest them with the kitschy effect that has dominated popular religious art for some time now.
 
Part of this may have to do with the subject itself "" religious iconography forces a religiosity on the pieces. The portly Ganesh doesn't look half as lovable in porcelain, though the delicate Krishna is able to pull it off far better.
 
The bharatnatyam dancer looks gauche, but had the company thought of a kathak dancer, they might have been assured of more success.
 
The trouble will lie in identifying where these objects of devotion are to be placed. If, for example, they are to be part of the puja room, then they must adhere to religious symbolism "" which is at odds with the very style of fina china, or even imported marbles (as used in the Romano collection from d'Mart).
 
On the other hand, as collectibles, why not create a totally new genre that is based on legends rather than religion, so that the characters are in consonance with the house style of a company?
 
It's early days yet, but even companies like Swarovski could be figuring out if there are takers for crystal Ganeshs or Rana Pratap's horse.
 
For, as the market grows, there's little doubt it will adopt Indian mythology. Whether it succeeds as classical art or its kitschy streetside genre, collectors "" and time "" will tell.

 
 

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First Published: Mar 19 2005 | 12:00 AM IST

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