Seeing things from a different perspective at South Kensington

AN EXHIBITION AT LONDON’S Victoria and Albert Museum, which is showing until 5 May 2025, displays works of art created in the Moghul Empire between about 1560 and 1660, a period in which the Emperors Akbar, Jahangir and Shah Jahan reigned. Apart from wonderful jewels, jewellery, jewel-encrusted swords, and various other luxurious items, the exhibition contains a superb array of painted miniatures. Each one of these meticulously painted images is filled with a wealth of detail, and depict people as well as scenes of (often) courtly life.

The miniature paintings differ from those created in Western Europe (notably in Italy, France, Germany, and the Low Countries) during that period in many ways. One of these differences is the portrayal of perspective. To the eyes of people used to looking at Western European paintings of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, the Mughal miniatures seem to lack any obvious portrayal of perspective when compared to what was being painted at the same time in Western Europe.

Many of us living in the twenty-first century are accustomed to seeing perspective portrayed in the way it has been done since the fifteenth century, when it was pioneered by the architect and engineer Filippo Brunelleschi, who rediscovered what the Ancient Greeks and Romans knew already. While I was looking at the Mughal miniatures, I wondered whether people who were living in the Mughal Empire at the time when they were painted saw the images in a different way to us, who are used to having perspective ‘spelled out’ or depicted in the Western European way. Did they look at the paintings and understand the perspective, without it having to be emphasised as it is in European art? Did their experience of life, as it was, allow them to understand the spatial relationships of the subject matter depicted in the paintings, or would it have seemed to lack depth as it does when we look at it today? Or was the subject matter more important to them than how it looked in ‘real life’?

Pavilions next to a lake built by a Mughal emperor

THERE IS A GARDEN by the shore of the Ana Sagar (lake) in Ajmer, Rajasthan. Originally laid out in the early 17th century by the Mughal Emperor Jahangir, it is now a public garden.

A baradari

In 1637, Emperor Shahjahan had five marble pavilions constructed in the gardens next to the lakeshore. Known as ‘baradari’, four of them are still intact. During the British occupation of India, these edifices were used to house the Commissioner of Ajmer and some of his officials. After Independence, the baradari were restored to their original forms after dismantling structures that had been added to convert them to dwellings.

For a modest admission fee, visitors can enter the park and enjoy views of the lake from the lovely baradaris.

An ambassador from England in Ajmer

AFTER MANY FRUSTRATING months of waiting and much travelling to follow him from place to place, the English diplomat Thomas Roe (c 1581 – 1644) finally got an audience with the Mughal Emperor Jahangir. Roe had been sent to India by King James I to establish a formal trading relationship.

Roe meeting Jahangir

 The meeting took place in the Mughal fort in Ajmer in 1618. At first, he had to communicate with the Emperor from outside the fort. Eventually, he was granted an audience with Jahangir within the fort. The meeting took place in the Diwan-i-Khas, the structure within the fort, where audiences were granted to important persons. The result of Roe’s meetings with Jahangir was an agreement that the British East India Company would have exclusive rights to establish factories (trading establishments) in Surat and other places.

 Yesterday (30th November 2024), we visited the Diwan-i-Khas in which Roe had discussions with Jahangir. The fort is well-preserved and now serves as a museum. The rooms in the fort house collections of sculptures, coins  paintings, inscriptions, weapons, and textiles. The museum is simply laid out, and the exhibits are lit well.

It was curiously moving to visit the place in which Roe met Jahangir. I am not sure why we felt that way, but maybe it was because we had previously read about Thomas Roe and his exploits in India.

Tact

nehru

I married in Bangalore in January 1995. A week or so before the marriage, I was introduced to Mr Krishnan, a tailor who worked in his home near to Cunningham Road in the heart of Bangalore. He was an elderly, dignified gentleman, and a good craftsman.

Mr Krishnan made me a suit for the wedding ceremony, a white Nehru suit with a high collar. a bandh gala. This kind of garment pre-dates India’s post-independence leader Jawaharlal Nehru; it derives from the Mughal years. The one that Mr Krishnan made me was precision fitting. I could breath in it, but it would not tolerate even the slightest increase in my girth. The same was true for a western style suit that he made for me at the same time.

A year later, we returned to Bangalore. Happiness in marriage and over-indulgence at meals had resulted in a change in my dimensions, notably an increase in my girth. We returned to Mr Krishnan with the suits he had made, which no longer fitted me. Fortunately, being a skilful tailor, Mr Krishnan had left plenty of material in the seams of the clothes in order to enlarge them.

Mr Krishnan measured me carefully, noting down my dimensions in a large book. When he had finished my wife asked him:

“Out of interest, how much has my husband increased in size?”

Mr Krishnan replied:

“Madam, I can not tell you that because I have lost your husband’s original measurements.”

Not only was Mr Krishnan a great tailor but also, he was a master of tact.