Girl with a bouquet of flowers

Girl with a Bouquet of Flowers, c. 1775–1780, attributed to Nikka of Guler (c. 1745–1833), Chamba. This is a single-figure portrait painted in opaque watercolour and gold on burnished wasli paper, he sheet framed by a narrow gold rule and a dense black border sown with a repeating floral sprig, itself set within a wider lilac-pink margin now freckled with age and old water-staining. Such wear speaks of having been handled and preserved through two and a half centuries and of being part of a history. She fills almost the full height of the picture. Seen in profile but leaning slightly towards the viewer, she wears a fulsome green peshwaz richly decorated in gold along the edge which tucks in snugly under the part of her raised arm that pushes the small floral nosegay to her breast. A translucent yellow dupatta streaked with gold falls loosely over her head and down to her shoulder, reflecting light from behind like nowhere else can this type of muslin be illuminated; with nothing so much as the slow careful lay of sheer paint on thin enough to reveal the dark hair underneath and yet not so opaque as to obliterate a hint of shadow. This painting's woman bears an individual identity despite having only three falling chains of pearls to her account as well as, in their place, one behind the ear and earrings, a nose-ring, and bracelets on the wrist; the markers of wealth are so few that they must all stand in for the larger markers of readiness of one inhabiting an arena. One is in a world, at one such arena. We are still, with this image, a two and a half centurial step back, and yet this is the time of the heroine and the heroine, who could even trace her origins to the Natyashastra and later to the Rasikapriya, is always and forever defined by her relationship to lovers when those are not there, by flowers. Like all blossoms in Pahari paintings, the bouquet that she carries to her chest cannot be merely decorative- it is in fact the central motif of her anticipation, a promise, a remembrance, folded tightly into the concept of shringara or love in its widest spectrum, from pang of loneliness to ecstasy of union. If one must stand still then it should be by considering for a moment the context in which Nikka chooses to position this picture of his woman. Instead of the naturalistic, washes of sky that Nainsukh taught his children over years to paint, Nikka gives one nothing but saturated hues of red against an equally flat sky made of an oblong of white punctuated by a ridge of orange against which a thin slice of blue shows along the uppermost edge. Far closer than Guler's spatial suggestion to the flat, gem-like backgrounds of much Basohli work of earlier times, clusters of white flowers are formally set against a bright red backdrop, two rectangular planting beds arranged beneath at either end. A wide space made up of a floral frise of rose-pink flowers on black and an inlaid blind arcading in the walls that hold a white stone terrace to the space on which Nikka fixes his woman as she is held against not a garden but against a garden’s abstracted template, is what makes this picture’s field. It is at this junction between an inheritance from a naturalism, still visible in the modeled face, the uniquely individual profile, the modeling not just of pearls but also of cloth around at elbow-bend, and an almostheraldic flattery of shape and field that Nikka can truly be defined; having trained in his father's workshop at Guler with its rigid rule of observe-before-paint, at the small conservative court of Raja Raj Singh (from 1764 to 1794), given land there in lieu of services; Nikka’s personal taste merged his father's inherited practices into those a Chamba patron preferred, a predilection for the rich, saturated background of the Basohli legacy, that did not preclude Nikka still being aware, indeed mindful, of his father's refined, spatially suggested artistry in painting faces and figuring the bulk of cloth, yet not quite yielding entirely to his family's carefully acquired ability to do justice to that illusion of depth. And so it comes to pass that, held against her chest, this bouquet, so deliberate, is also an element in the patterned redness and the flattened sky around it yet it may truly be the only object, besides flowers on bed or among garden shrub, given real purpose beyond filling space. The woman holds it as if in offer to another, when really the only offering it can present is the glimpse offered of her inner reality within the ostentatious, impersonal splendor of her court and setting.