WEBZINE ACC

There is a famous anecdote associated with Jean Rouch (1917–2004), a groundbreaking figure in ethnographic filmmaking and visual anthropology.¹⁾ Rouch had created a film about hippopotamus-hunting in Western Africa and hosted a screening with the people of the community. The screening was the first instance in which many community members had come across a film, and soon enough, they began to recognize their own likeness in the film. Some of them began to cry as they saw people who had departed the world since the filming. As the film moved onto the hunt scene, one hunter criticized the film. Rouch had, in accordance with modern film production techniques, added sound effects to the hunt scene to make the scene more dramatic. The hunter replied, “Hippopotamus in the water have good hearing, so if they hear music, they will run away,” asking Rouch to take the music out. With this unexpected feedback, Rouch came to the realization that ethnographic filmmaking finds meaning not in the unilateral delivery of information but rather through interaction with the audience, and this realization went on to serve as the foundation of his philosophy regarding films.²⁾

In November 2023, when the fall had yet to leave Nepal, I faced the scenery of Janakpur and the murals drawn on the walls and the houses in anticipation of the festival. It was then that I thought back to Rouch’s experience with an unfamiliar culture and his attempt to understand and respect that.³⁾ Perhaps because I was there to film the area, just as Rouch had done; perhaps it was because I had entered into the sacred space where the ancient epic of Ramayana had unfolded.

For most people, Nepal is associated with the Himalayas, but the place I was in, the lowland region of Terai, is a hot and wet area with a daily high of 30°C and plenty of mosquitoes. The filming crew and I disembarked at Janakpur Airport and headed to the rural village right away, arriving at the village by sundown. The sunset and the billowing smoke created a dreamy landscape, and later on, I learned that the smoke was created by the residents burning straw to repel the mosquitoes. Crimson hues blended in and reflected off the acrid smoke, framing scenes like old men on oxen, a young woman drawing water from a pump, villagers mingling with livestock, children running barefoot, and women with bared waists. It felt as if I was watching a film.

Mithila Paintings and the Documentary “The Grand Heritage: South Asia” ⁴⁾

The goal of this project was to create a documentary that shed light on the intangible cultural heritage of Nepal.⁵⁾ Nepal is a land of festivals across the year, and it is naturally full of vibrant cultural materials. The reason why the “Mithila art” tradition was chosen as the theme of the documentary was because the Asia Culture Museum had some works of Mithila paintings in its collection, and our intent was to connect that with the documentary to create exhibitions and educational programs that can, in turn, promote the value and beauty of this tradition far and wide.⁶⁾

Mithila art is a form of ritual art that has been passed down in the area thought to be of the ancient Mithila kingdom, namely, Janakpur in southeastern Nepal and Madhubani in northeastern India.⁷⁾ Traces of the legendary Mithila kingdom can be found in Janakpur, an area thought to be its capital and is also known as Janakpurdham, a holy site for Hinduism. “Dham” is a suffix used for holy sites, and Janakpur, indeed, is deeply related to Hindu rituals.

Janakpur is also featured in the ancient epic of Ramayana, and it is famous for the Janaki Temple, a holy site of Hinduism. As the birthplace of Sita, the consort of Lord Rama, and the site of the couple’s wedding, it is regarded as an important holy site for Hindu pilgrims even today.

Villages in Janakpur continue the traditions of the ancient kingdom, such as women painting murals on the walls of their houses and villages to celebrate sacred periods like festivals. These paintings act not only as ornaments but also as heartfelt wishes for their family’s health and well-being.

When there is a big festival or a village event, the women of the village draw paintings related to the divine on the walls of their houses and the village. They are ordinary people working in the fields or in their homes, but they are, at the same time, keepers of the art of Mithila paintings. From the grandmother to the mother and the daughter, the women of the village pass down the art of painting lives, nature, and Hindu mythology on their clay walls.

Most adult women in the village can draw some form of mural, and the tradition is kept alive through transmission between women. Today, the tradition is also kept alive on canvas. Themes range from the scenes from Ramayana, the grand epic of Hinduism, to religious festivals and sceneries from pastoral life. The tradition has evolved to include dedicated artists, and Mithila paintings are recognized as examples of art and tourist products that are fit for museums and collections.

Light and Paintings Depicting Victory and Hope

When the dry season comes around after the monsoon, Nepal enters fall, the season of abundance and harvest. The people of Nepal celebrate harvest time with a festival dedicated to thanks and abundance: Tihar, a five-day festival that also sees women of the village decorating their houses and the village with vibrant paintings.

Bikram Sambat, a calendar in use in the region, is quite different from the calendar we are used to. The year 2023, for instance, corresponds to the year 2080, and the New Year begins in our April. Kartik, the seventh month of the year, sees the largest festival of Hinduism, Deepawali.⁸⁾Deepawali is known as Tihar in Nepal, and the downtown area of Janakpur fills with energy and joy during the festival as residents make their way to the city center to purchase flower necklaces with blessings and ornaments for the divine.

The centerpiece of the Tihar festival is “Laxmi Puja,” a ritual dedicated to welcoming Lakshmi, the goddess of luck and wealth.⁹⁾ When the sun sets and dusk falls, people light handmade oil lamps to usher the goddess into their house. The worship of Lakshmi symbolizes abundance and wealth, and people hope for wealth in their worship. They draw rangoli in front of their house and hang the lamps on banana tree pillars to add to the festive atmosphere. Altogether, these ornaments and lights carry the wishes of blessing and thanks to this festival of light.

Tihar is also known as a festival that celebrates Lord Rama’s triumphant return after vanquishing the great demon-king Ravana. During the festival period, people set off firecrackers and cheer to push back the evil with light and sounds. Just as light repels darkness, forces of good repel evil throughout the night as the festival reaches its zenith.¹⁰⁾

Mithila art serves not only as a guide for the divine to enter the houses of the believers but also as the conduit to the unique tradition of sharing life and blessing with all lives coexisting with humans during the Tahir festival period. As depictions of Hindu mythology and gods, Mithila art becomes a medium that visualizes the festival’s spiritual meaning and shares the time of blessing with others.

Mithila Art as a New Chapter of Women’s Emancipation

What struck me during my interviews with the community was that they wanted to emphasize the contribution of Mithila art to women’s social emancipation more than the history or interpretation of the artwork in itself. In the past, women were rarely allowed to leave the house,¹¹⁾ but by organizing themselves into groups to teach and pass on the art, they paved the way for their economic independence. Mithila art is more than a tradition passed down in a region: it has transformed the lives of countless women by giving them the opportunity to become self-reliant. Mithila art today has now expanded into a form of activism that includes women’s voices and is recognized as art on canvas. Today, Mithila paintings have become a practical symbol of Nepali women transforming their lives and pioneering a new era. In recent years, Mithila paintings have also taken on social messages that emphasize women’s roles, gender equality, anti-violence, and economic independence.

Like anthropologist James Clifford’s concept of “contact zones,” museums must go beyond the role of collecting and preserving to function as sites for redefining the cultural, moral, and political meanings of artifacts.¹²⁾ Clifford argues that museums interact with artifacts in terms of “contact” beyond the dichotomy of domination and subjugation. That is to say, museums must go beyond the practice of collecting, preserving, and exercising authority over art and cultural heritage from the periphery (subjugated) to the center (dominant).

The culture captured within the Mithila art tradition is not a static one. Museum exhibitions sometimes have a tendency to represent culture as fixed and static, but Mithila art is a living phenomenon that encapsulates a fluid process of transformation and interaction with outside elements. That is also the rationale behind the documentary’s focus on the dynamic cultural character of Mithila art.

As curators, these considerations, along with feedback from our encounters with the community, can help us avoid reproducing stereotypical images of other cultures and guide intercultural understanding in the right direction. The message that the Mithila paintings convey, both traditional and contemporary, can be said to open up new possibilities for museums and exhibition planning for us beholders.

The Significance of Collecting Disappearing Art

Mithila paintings are made today with paint, but in the past, they were made with materials from nature, such as red mud and dyes made from ground rice. These pigments, made from natural materials such as rice flour, leaves, roots, flowers, berries, soil, and powdered stone, and the paintings would fade or disappear with rain or wind. This tradition of making new paintings each year accords with the laws of nature, and with the arrival of the New Year, the paintings are ritually reproduced over and over again.

Mithila paintings have been passed down as part of the religious rituals in the Hindu world. During the Tihar festival, the paintings are used as a symbolic act of inviting the divine and praying for the family’s health and well-being. In this context, one can pose a question on the value of collecting Mithila paintings as simple artifacts to be preserved in perpetuity. Unlike museums’ general purpose of collecting and preserving paintings, the community takes for granted the fact that these paintings will disappear naturally over time and that they will be recreated. This is similar to the hippo hunter in Rouch’s anecdote above, who insisted that the background music be removed from the footage. The cyclical nature of disappearance and repetition may in itself be an important attribute of Mithila art.

Mithila paintings were originally painted in the yard or on the walls of houses, and they would naturally fade over time. Each year, they are painted anew, transforming an everyday space into a sacred one once more. Perhaps this continuity is the true value of Mithila art. So, does the contemporary commodification of these paintings as tourist products, painted on canvas or souvenirs, collected and displayed in museums, or documented in photographs and videos, thus preserving them in perpetuity, undermine their intrinsic value?

This question suggests a new approach to “indigenous museology” that goes beyond the limits of the modern model of museums. This approach, through interaction with local communities, expands the roles and responsibilities of museums and opens up possible methods of curating that address sustainable culture on a global scale. Artifacts and exhibits are no longer just objects but entities that have meanings of their own and interact with curators, artists, visitors, and the environment. We see as much as we know and think as much as we listen. May truth triumph over ignorance.

• ☞ Watch the trailer for the EBS documentary “The Grand Heritage, South Asia” Broadcast Dates: Nov. 11 (MON) – 12 (TUE), 2024, at 22:45
• ☞ Read the article: “Conveying the Timeless Value of Intangible Cultural Heritage: The Trilogy Documentary ‘The Grand Heritage: South Asia’” ACC Webzine (Vol. 85, October 2024, Yoo Yeonhui)
• ☞ View the exhibition information for the ACC’s Collection of the Month “Mithila Painting” Period: Nov. 6, 2024 – Mar. 3, 2025