From the media standpoint, Mithila art can be described under three main types: Aripan (floor patterns), painted walls, and painted objects. Aripan is drawn with wet, powdered rice and Sindoor vermillion) on the floor or banana leaves. Mostly monochromatic (with dots of vermillion
Or turmeric), Aripans often serve as a ceremonial ground for events such as vivah (marriage), mundan (ritualistic head-shaving) and bhratri-Dwitiya (brother- sister festival), among others.
Wall paintings are usually multicolored. The third category is characterized by colorful paintings on pottery and clay elephant, among others. Ganga Devi, the acclaimed artist, suggests that Kohbar art was brought from walls to paper in the 1960s, a time characterized by drastically higher use of paper in the Mithila region. Heinz documents that in the early days, paper-based Mithila art was limited to Mahapatra Brahmins – low-ranked Brahmins due to their specialization in funeral – and Kayastha families in their neighborhood.
Kailash Mishra (2003) is of the view that broadly, three types (“schools”) of Mithila art have been identified, which are correlated with caste identities. The “Bharni” style, more popular among Brahmin artists, combines the relatively sparse linework with solid-color fillings. Kayastha artists tend to paint using the “Kachni style”. This style is characterized by rectilinear and curvilinear lines of different widths and colors used to depict gods, rituals, and patterns.
The thematic is similar to the Bharni style. Artists from relatively backward castes (dushadhs, in particular) are known for their peculiar “Godhni” style of Mithila art, which is characterized predominantly by monochromatic skin tattoo patterns. The thematic for the Godhni form also includes ethnic folklore related to caste-based legends. According to Rekha and Devi (2010), the Godhni style – which mostly emerged after the 1970s – did not gain much traction among the scholars, although it is (quoting Mulkraj Anand) “expressionist and passionate.” However, the Mithila Museum in Japan does include several Godhni artworks by Dalit artists: Jamuna Devi, Shanti Devi and Uttam Paswan, among others. The Godhni style does build caste-equity in Mithila art by depicting themes such as the Dusadh (a Dalit caste) king Raja Salhes, which is conspicuously absent in other Mithila art styles.
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Original Mithila paintings were dominated by a depiction of Gods, rituals, metaphoric symbols and mythological legends. Red, a symbol of good omen, dominates the colour scheme, but many paintings include other primary colors: Green, blue, yellow, orange, and – in some cases – black.
According to Heinz (2006): “Ultimately. It is the Gods who are first imagined, then portrayed and finally mirrored, over and over again, in medium after medium, by faithful worshippers…” Mithla art refuses to belong to a particular sect of Hinduism: Vaishnav. Shaiv or Tantric. The depiction of Gods and Goddesses are rather secular within the broad boundaries of Hinduism: Shiva, Durga, Ram, Sita, Krishna, Vishnu and Kali. Goddesses (Durga, Saraswati, Kali and Naina Jogin) are as prevalent as Gods (Ram, Krishna., Vishnu and Shiv. More recent adaptations have included Buddha and Jesus.
In the Maithili community, weddings are not arranged using ‘Kundli-matching (horoscope).
For this reason, the groom first puts vermilion on the ‘Kohbar’, and then on the bride. It is believed that if evil or negative omen exists in the horoscope, they end after touching the drawing.
Shiva and Parvati are believed to be the superpowers of the universe. The sun, the moon and the planets represent the solar system. Trees, flowers, fruits and leaves represent nature. They are considered to be witnesses to the marriage, and it is presumed that the marriage is approved by them.
Professor Carolyn Brown (1996) offers a careful – and rather seminal – account of how Western researchers have provided interpretations for Mithila art. For example, she questions the appropiatenes of a “Freudian” explanation provided by Vequad wherein a vertical element in Kohbar art is interpreted as “phallic.” However, when put in context (i.e., Kohbar art is ritually painted in a private room offered to newly-weds), such an explanation does not seem totally out of place. As such, a “lingam” (male genital) is depicted to be penetrating “yoni” (female genital).
Brown also takes a conservative stance when reviewing the writings of W.C. Archer. Perhaps, Vequad’s sexuality-related interpretation of Kohbar was influenced by Archer, who, in 1949, interpreted lotus as a symbol of female fertility and bamboo as a penis. Some other researchers such as Madhok & Madhok (2005) offer a more “plain” interpretation: Kohbar is a symbol of female power and good fortune that comes with her. As such, the painting is about Lakshmi, the Goddess of wealth and good fortune, also depicted as Kamal (lotus). The vertical element in the middle is the stem of the lotus spearheaded by a feminine face. Parrots (suga) and peacocks, often shown in pairs, represent the union. Fish, birds and serpents represent the feminine and masculine aspects of the union.
Modern interpretations of Mithila art are more dynamic and diverse. Traditional vocabulary is applied to social themes such as women’s empowerment (e.g., works by Gauri Mishra), election (e.g., works by Shanti Devi) and motorbike (Santosh Kumar Das), among others. Even Ganga Devi, the acclaimed Mithila artist, has been more experimentative with the thematic and brought a great deal of individuality to her paintings. Some experts believe that Mithila art was always dynamic in its themes and reflected contemporary society, beyond the popular topics of Gods and rituals.
Szanton discusses a photograph by Archer (early 20th century) in which a Mithila art depicts a railway station master with a train ticket. Baua Devi, an acclaimed artist, painted the 9/11 World Trade Center attack (Joshi & Tapasvi, 2015), purely from her impressions, as someone described the event to her.
In some 20th century instances, interpretations of the Indian culture adopted either a parochial or a misinformed viewpoint. For example, “Tantra”, a far-fetched Indian version of what some Westerners know as Voodoo, took center stage. The 1984 Hollywood movie, “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom”, was only an exaggerated version of such a shallow interpretation. The “availability bias”, as psychologists would call it, also led several researchers to provide a “Tantric” explanation to Mithila art. Dr. Brown is of the opinion (and cites earlier scholars to argue) that “Tantra” is a relatively newer concept, still struggling for a wider acceptance among more devout Hindus. Her study suggests that the adjective “Tantric” has no translation in Sanskrit. Yet, a large number of Maithil Brahmins claim to practice Tantric rituals. A fascination with rituals can be observed in many Maithil commoners, although less intense than the Western scholars of the 1980s.
Dr. Brown cites how the Tantric interpretation is more dominant among men, whereas women artists are mostly skeptical about the Tantric intent of their artwork. A well known Kayastha artist, quoted in Brown’s work, denies any Tantric connotation hidden in her art. “Mithila art originated as a conversation among women”, but Tantra is male- dominated. As such, the Tantric interpretations of Mithila art stand on thin ground and are, at best, controversial. The Mithila artists, predominantly women, offer more straightforward explanations of the elements:
The zig-zag straight lines depicting “Banswitt” (bamboo grove) represent a multiplying lineage; the lotus – which multiplies in a pond with a single seed – offers a metaphor for procreating children. An overwhelming representation of aquatic life: Fish, animals and the lotus is explained by Maithil women’s affinity to ponds and her respect for fertility.
Thus, even if the carnal interpretations of several elements may hold good, for Maithil artist women such interpretations would echo St. Augustine’s critique that the earlier Biblical interpretation of man-woman relationship was “crude” and that it has a divine purpose of procreation.
Madhok and Madhok (2005) relate Kohbar to “Mandalas”, which in their more geometric forms are more prevalent in Tibetan art and echo the justification of this art to promote the union of a couple for a healthy offspring. As such, the Banswitti, a secondary theme, includes the male component of the wedding union to balance an overwhelming female depiction by the lotus. A version of Mithila art, Banswitti, drawn by artist Smreeti Shree, is shown on the left.
Other studies offer specific “Non-Vedic”, Tantric interpretations. For example, Kailash Mishra (2003) discusses “certain Non-Vedic” rites depicted in wall art, such as “Naina-Jogin” [See left] and “Thakka-Bakka”.
Madhok and Madhok (2005) also support a tantric interpretation of Naina-Jogin (“Eye”, the female sorcerer) to protect the married couple from evil. A Naina Jogin painted by Bharti Lal is presented on the left.
Fanishwar Nath Renu, a famed Hindi writer from the Mithila region wrote a story titled
“Naina Jogin” wherein the central character Ratni, a village woman serves as a metaphor for Naina Jogin. One must respect the powers of the sorceress and stay respectful towards her. The story reflects the folklore depiction of Naina Jogin in the popular culture of the Mithila region.
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Erika Moser, a German folklorist and Ray Owens, an American Fulbright Scholar, are credited for some of the earliest commercialization endeavors of Mithila art in the 20th century (Heinz, 2006).
Moser bought nearly 80 paintings from various villages around Madhubani (Ranti, Jitwarpur, Rahika and Rashidpur), which were quickly sold in Germany. The profits were used to buy a small house in Jitwarpur, where a center for women artists was set up. With Moser’s help, Sita Devi, an artist, visited seven European countries to present her work. Heinz praises Owens and Moser, both of whom settled in Jitwarpur, adopted the village and worked closely with a Brahmin woman Gaur Mishra who was well versed both in English and Maithili. A result of their efforts was that the prices of paper-based paintings went up from Rs 10-50 to the order of Rs 200-700. The new rates in 2020 equivalent translate roughly between Rs 1,500-Rs 5,000 ($25-$70) per piece.
In recent years, some concerted efforts have been made to generate revenues through Mithila art. However, in its less organized form, the market for Mithila art has created two classes of people: Artists and middlemen. Due to intermediaries, artist remunerations are limited, and as a result, they tend to mass-produce lower-quality artwork (Das, 2013). Although several online outlets list artwork, offering an accessible marketplace for artists and minimizing the role of intermediaries, Kailash Mishra (2003) sounds critical on how Mithila art commercialization has evolved recently.
He suggests that the “market”- oriented trainers “do not know the essence and aesthetic beauty” and train with “utter ignorance”. However, he argues that commercialization has also brought more men to painting Mithila art. The original paintings are clubbed with folklore, narratives, “songs and tunes,” which are absent from commercialized works. Mishra cites Jamuna Devi, an accomplished Mithila painter from Jitwarpur village, who taught Mithila art to girls of all castes. She says: “I do not charge any money from the trainees. If I charge, my art will be polluted.”
Ihitashri Shandilya, the CEO of Mithilasmita (a social business enterprise dealing in Mithila art), posits the contemporary adaptations of Madhubani art – a devotion from traditional themes – as a “distortion.” However, despite the distortion cost, it has been a challenge to ensure the artists’ financial sustenance (Joshi &Tapasvi, 2015).
Anecdotally, there is some evidence of Mithila art transcending beyond the traditional media to textile design. Gupta and Gangwar (2016) call for “product diversification and value addition” of Mithila art and subtly urge Mithila artists not to resist the temptation of adapting their traditional designs to non-traditional outputs, such as textile design. Their experiment suggests an excellent reception by a sample of Mithila art consumers as a centerpiece, or as a border pattern. Sodhi, Arya, and Yadav (2016) conduct a similar experiment using computer-aided design (CAD) tools to replicate Mithila art patterns on a wide range of articles and report an initial success (in consumer response) of such techniques.
The history of Mithila art is lost in opinions and unsubstantiated claims. However, the absence of a definitive timeline of its beginning does lend credibility to a hypothesis that the art form is ancient. While more concerted effort is warranted in drawing historical inferences, it is plausible that the art form has stayed on par with its contemporaries across the world. Its ability to retain originality is remarkable.
Mithila art’s central intent has been utilitarian: To support the rituals during various Hindu religious ceremonies. However, several recent artists have added to the thematic dynamics. As a result, there have been several successful experiments depicting the modern context in Mithila art. Also, the art form has broken free from the confines of rural households and specific castes to a broader set of artists, in terms of gender, caste, ethnicity, and geography. While some scholars seem to have given disproportionate attention to the tantric and sensual undertones, some traditional Mithila artwork may indeed instill these themes, although subtly.
Despite some disconnected efforts in recent years, the Mithila art form remains economically vulnerable. While some selected artists have gained recognition and have been able to generate respectable revenue from their artwork, a vast majority of them remain underpaid. To some extent, the relatively less economic value of such artists is due to their lack of training in producing art that connoisseurs value. However, with increasing awareness and a well-developed strategy for commercialization, Mithila art has the potential to survive and adapt to the new socio-economic realities.
This excerpt has been taken from Adarsh Books publisher’s ‘Mithila Art’, edited by Binita Malik, Dr Minu Agarwal, Dr Laura Zizka. Dr Prashant Das is the managing editor.