Old is gold

Amendments to the antiquities Act have been on the cards for a while, and it is hoped the government will ease these sooner rather than later. The opening of a museum within Purana Qila in Delhi augur

The annual art pickings begin to accelerate ahead of the festive season, setting the tone for what is to come, and auctions are a good measure of both sentiment as well as current favourites. Internationally, this includes sales of antiquities; in India, similar attempts have borne little fruit because valuations tend to err too much on the side of caution. Neither sourcing nor selling has been easy. In a country with so much respect for the past, and a great passion for collecting almost anything (look at how we hold on to our prized possessions), this is particularly puzzling. Why do we not estimate our treasures adequately?

But, first: what do I mean by antiquities? In common parlance, and cut to the barebones of bureaucratic-talk, this implies anything over a hundred years old. Even as you read this, there are probably things in your home that are turning into antiques — the prints in the puja room you inherited from your grandparents, old photographs, letters, books, carpets, your great-grandmother’s china, your grandfather’s medals, ancestral collectibles… Some of these might be precious heirlooms but most have no value whatsoever for anyone else.

Ideally, an antiquity should imply something that has collective historic, aesthetic or rare value, and readers of this column have probably grown up with some of these too — miniature paintings, old tangkhas, phads and pichwais, and almost certainly stone statuary from the past that the sahib logs collected on their peregrinations across the country. Most are perhaps not registered with the Archaeological Survey of India, as is required by law, because of our innate suspicion of babudom. And, indeed, the ASI would hardly know how to cope should thousands of good citizens turn up with their treasures of heirloom jewellery, hand-me-down saris, votive objects, family silver, treasured crystalware, hoarded dinner or tea-sets, bronze icons, all the detritus of families that we treasure and keep, but are now finding difficult to maintain, restore or display.

At a professional level, it has always intrigued me why art made today, or, say, 30 or 50 years back should be valued higher than something created two or five or, indeed, ten centuries ago. India has had a genius for some of the finest art and craft, including textiles, and as a people we react instinctively to it — perhaps out of familiarity — but these works of art are rendered almost valueless because of one’s fear of “collecting” anything that is not freely tradeable.

What worries us is the legality. While the state has put in place regulations to prevent the theft of antiquities, in actual terms it has discouraged transparency, resulting in an underground nexus where antiquities are surreptitiously traded or smuggled out of the country — witness the notorious Subhash Kapoor, now lodged in a jail in Chennai — and certainly at values far below anything they would command in a free and open market.

Amendments to the antiquities Act have been on the cards for a while, and it is hoped the government will ease these sooner rather than later. Meanwhile, the opening of a museum within the precincts of Purana Qila in New Delhi augurs well. Consisting of rare works of art returned by governments and museums in the West where these were smuggled or sold, it is a refreshing take on how states and institutions worldwide are turning their backs on dubious acquisitions. While a case can be made about the return of several of India’s treasures housed in museums in the West, we can, at least for now, begin by minding our own house. And set precedents for valuing what is often labelled priceless without resorting to a worthless notional value. 

Kishore Singh is a Delhi-based writer and art critic. These views are personal and do not reflect those of the organisation with which he is associated