Translation of "ne pogadakunte"

Translation of “nE pogaDakunTE “

So what?

What do You lack?

What do You miss?

If I don’t praise (Your glory)

You know my mind (Don’t You?)

Those, who dwell in Your grace

Like

The Suka, Sanaka,

Prahlada, Narada

Rudra (Siva)

And other devotees

(When) They all worship You

So what?

What do You lack?

For

Providing food and sustenance

There, are

My wife, scholars, and community

For helping with (music lessons and) singing hymns

I’ve the

Son of Wind (Hanuman)

Now

Daksha, Indra, and other celestials

Have become very dear relatives

O Lord with lotus eyes

The One extolled by Sri Tyagaraja

Being a boy

If I don’t praise (Your glory)

What do you lack?

You know my mind.

Tyagayya (at times I prefer to call him Tyagayya, cf. Annamayya) profusely acknowledges the debt to elders, teachers, contemporary society, and ancient rishis in a number of songs. In some instances he may have expressed a slight difference of opinion with cohorts (nadupai palikeru comes to mind). But wherever he expressed gratitude, his sentiments were always warm and heartfelt. I sense a feeling of authentic thankful gesture in this song and “danDamu peTTEnuraa kOdanDapaaNi cuuDaraa” (see one of my older posts at Sulekha).

[This is a translation of the Tyagayya kriti, “nE pogaDakunTE niikEmi kodavO?”. I learnt the song from a cassette (rendition) by Dr. Balamurali. I hope younger artists like Dr. Pantula Rama will one day present their own interpretation of such timeless compositions. Certainly there is a vast reservoir of musical talent hidden in today’s youngsters – one fervently hopes budding singers remain optimistic, persevere, and pursue Indian classical music either as a vocation or avocation. Money or no money, awards or no awards. Per se, art has its own rewards.]

I will post the lyrics (and perhaps commentary) in a future write-up.  Copyright © 2013

Framing Krishna

Framing Krishna

From Dharmasala, B brought us a great gift: A Batik of Radha and Krishna, elegantly seated on the bank of Yamuna, in the midst of ponna (punnaga, Indian-Laurel tree) trees, with an on-looking peacock on the side. It is a large multi-colored painting, stretching to 55 “ x 45 “. For more than two years, we just let it hang on the wall, held by thumb tacks on its corners. Though the painting is magnificent, we did it a great disservice by not providing a suitable frame.

But how to frame our loving Krishna? If Yasoda could not tie Him with a rope even after trying many times (the rope was always two inches short!), then how could we frame this large unwieldy painting? In India, of course, I could either visit a framing shop or hire a carpenter – but here in U.S., it is not that easy.  For a mere 27” x 18” painting, one shop has quoted a whopping price of $ 250. To spend hundreds of dollars just on a frame, it is not a Monet, some may say. For us, this Radha Krishna painting is more valuable, much more than a Monet. Sadly, we do not know the painter’s identity! He or she must be one of those great anonymous painters. Like the painters of Ajanta frescos. Not only the painting has multiple colors and hues, it has thin delicate golden lines and dots – decorating the borders of Radha’s dress, bangles, and the mysterious flute.

Finally I determined to do the framing, all by myself. I did not formally learn carpentry, though many years ago, I watched for hours at length, carpenters working on complex projects. They would make their own (bamboo or date palm) dowels, varnish, and hand sand the teak and rosewood surfaces. Also, once I happened to observe a team of metal workers design a large drop ceiling and install it piece by piece at a height of 15-20 feet above ground. Then too, the skilled workers made their own metal rivets, and rigged up a fast assembly process to fabricate a metal grid (skeleton). I was always impressed by their design skills, intuition, and imagination. That they were able to make their own punching tool bit (via hardened steel), punch holes, join frames with rivets – it was a true testimony to their metal shop skills; earlier they had worked on the massive Godavari bridge and other large structures.

During my pre-college days, I was lucky to witness several oil-painting, sculpture, and art exhibitions. I remember vividly a traveling exhibit of Lalita Kala Akademi. It was conducted singlehandedly by a local wife and husband team– a Paris trained artist couple, Mrs. & Mr. B. Karuna Rao. Before the (public) opening, Mr. Rao took me around all the paintings; he was checking to see the lighting, proper height of each painting, and other mechanical effects. Then while leisurely walking around the exhibits, I got to appreciate each painting, learned to decipher what the artist was trying to communicate. There, I was introduced to modern art and a little bit of cubism. Walking around the exhibits, and with the help of an accomplished artist, I learnt about color, medium, style, and content. Much later I got a chance to see the original works of Gauguin, Monet, Ravi Varma, Michelangelo, and others.

      There, in our coastal town, in one of the meetings of the local Women’s Association, Mrs. Karuna Rao made a simple plea: “Please, I have nothing against you framing and decorating your house with lots of (mass produced) posters – of mythological figures, leaders, or movie actors. But, buy at least one or two paintings, sketches, water color paintings, or any art piece made by a local artist. It need not be the most expensive art piece. That’s the only way we can sustain and encourage art in our daily life.” Many years later I came to appreciate what she meant. A piece of art, it doesn’t have to be a million dollar painting, can certainly broaden a person’s horizon; it can truly shatter the burdensome egotism and narcissistic tendencies.

Now, coming to the framing job at hand. I tried all the framing stores around here and browsed some Internet sites too. Yet, nothing satisfied me. The only solution I could think of – is to buy (wooden) molding from the Home Depot and make a custom frame myself. I considered various metal framings too. Metal framing will need welding and elaborate mechanism to attach the fabric to the edges. I selected an L ( cross section) shaped pine moulding (1-1/16” x 11/16”), made rough cuts at the store, and came home with four pieces. Next, I stained all the pieces with Minwax Cherry color (to protect from seasonal fluctuations in temperature and moisture). Ideally, I should have made a detailed drawing of the painting and frame. But I took a chance and plunged into the project just with gut feeling and intuition.

My plan was to use the vertical face for spreading the fabric (it would run parallel to the wall) and fold the borders twice, and hold the entire painting taut with the help of staples or thumb tacks. Multiple measurements are a must (the old adage: Measure twice and cut once) to avoid disasters. If the frame is a bit large, then there may not be enough fabric to secure properly with staples. If the frame is a bit small, then precious painting area may get wrapped up on the side edges or even end up behind the frame. Ideally we would like to use all (or at least most ) of the painting area for exhibiting (viewing). The artist may or may not give us enough room to work with. In extreme cases, we may have to stitch additional cloth on the four edges to give us enough leeway for framing. Luckily I did not get into major hurdles as I worked into the project.

I made 45° angle cuts (total eight cuts) with a miter saw, all by hand. But how to glue them into a perfect rectangle? A local framing shop owner came to my rescue. She had two miter vices for joining the corners at a perfect 90° angle. So, after two days (we left the glued joints for twelve hours for complete curing), a well made rectangular frame (55 “ x 44 “) emerged. The corners were held by four headless nails in addition to wood glue. Still, the frame was a bit shaky and weak. The corners were reinforced with flat L – shaped brass coated brackets. I added two slotted light weight (galvanized) steel vertical bars to the frame. With that the frame became quite rigid and strong. Two small rectangular Styrofoam (left over’s from packing boxes) pieces were attached to the steel bars; these would keep the fabric from falling into a concave shape in the middle.

     Mounting the fabric tightly on to the frame is a delicate task. First, temporary thumb tacks were used to hold the fabric on all four sides. A no. staple gun was used. Though I wanted to use brass (or other non-rusting) staples, I could not find any moderately priced staples in local stores. There are some stainless steel staples, but they are very expensive, and you a need a new staple gun too. At a space of 3-4 inches, the entire fabric was tautly held by staples. Often I had to use a hammer blow to drive down the staple fully into the wooden frame. Due the recoil (I think), the staples stood up a bit (about 1/8 “) after the first strike. I did not use any glue to hold down the fabric edges; with staples, it would be easier to dismantle the painting from the frame for a future repair or upgrade. So, finally the marvelous painting adorned a light weight, sturdy wooden frame. Then, V suggested a brilliant idea: “Why don’t you cover the sides with something, to hide the staples?” A 3M purple color electric tape did the job. It added one more layer of protection – the plastic tape blended well with the border. 

Originally I had planned for a backlight illumination for the painting. That has to wait for another day. I am still searching for a reasonably priced, cool, light weight lamp(s). Maybe, I will install a metal halide discharge miniature lamp, which I discovered in the attic collection. The total cost of framing came to about $ 30. Plus, of course, the labor of love – I enjoyed every minute of it. One can still add an outer perimeter of ornamental wooden framing (Floater Frame). But it will add extra weight, transforming it into a gaudy museum piece.  

Several individuals helped me in this project. I must acknowledge the hand of an invisible force – it guided me gently to successful completion. Copyright © 2013

(Dedicated to all the anonymous artists and sculptors, particularly of Indian subcontinent)