Is our world turning colourless?
Do you remember the pictures hung on the walls when you visited your grandparents during the summer break?
In my grandparents’ house, a large calendar featuring goddess Lakshmi in a bright magenta sari, originally painted by Raja Ravi Varma, adorned the wall. It stood out, encased in a gold-coloured antique frame, on a wall painted bright green. The room had oriental wooden furniture.
On one of my visits to my ancestral village, during lunch, my cousin pointed to a photograph and said, “Can you recognise your father there?” It was hung amidst a gallery of old black-and-white photographs displayed on a parrot green wall. The wall was hand painted with bright ‘Fuji colour’ — a practice to make up for the lack of colour photography in the ’70s. Today, as I sit in my drawing room with muted wall colours, I am flooded with the hyper psychedelic colours of the past.
Importance of colour
Having studied fine arts, I am familiar with ‘The Theory of Colours’ propounded by renowned German poet and artist Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. He talks about the nature, function and psychology of colours. One of his quotes: “Light and darkness, brightness and obscurity, or if a more general expression is preferred, light and its absence, are necessary to the production of colour… Colour itself is a degree of darkness”.
Artists from the post-Impressionism period (between 1886 and 1905) associated colours with certain attributes. Red and orange symbolised beauty and nobleness; yellow and green symbolised intellectual prowess; green and blue symbolised sensuality; and purple and red symbolised imagination and fantasy.
My exposure to Western art is based completely on Goethe’s theory, using which Pablo Picasso created his famous series ‘The Pink Period’ and ‘The Blue Period’. They mark a psychodrama against Van Gogh’s usage of yellow, green, red and orange, which illustrated intellectuality and positive energy with the use of everyday mundane objects around him.
Colours in India
India is a huge and diverse country, where every few miles, the language and the culture changes. Colours are an integral part of our culture, and various colours can be seen across various aspects of life — from bright orange jalebis to yellow dhoklas, and from the green Kanchipuram silk saris to the bright red Rajasthani pagris.
Our artworks —Pattachitra, Madhubani, miniatures and Pahadi painting — are all based on vibrant primary Indian colours. We see colour as a cultural offshoot and connect it to our heritage. Our palette is widely dominated by earthy colours, mostly based in red, brown, yellow, red and pink.
For us, red symbolises wealth, beauty, power, celebration, and goddess Lakshmi. Indian marriages are dominated by the colour, with women wearing the red sindoor on the forehead as an auspicious mark of marriage. Most bridal wedding trousseau in Indian traditions are red in colour. Many Indian temples have a yellow or red flag, and most holy items offered at the temple, like bangles and kumkum, are red in colour. The festive colours of Holi always stay with us, whether we celebrate it in New York
or Delhi.
Advent of mute
Have you noticed that in old American sitcoms shows, the interiors of the homes had floral design walls and Victorian-style furniture, in contrast to today’s shows with muted minimalistic interior design? In the ’70s, New York City had bright and colourful vehicles on its roads, compared to the black, grey, white and silver cars that we see on Broadway now.
Mumbai’s modern grey steel and glass architecture is a long departure from the colourful architectural heritage of old homes on Marine Drive. When glass facades came to Gurugram, colours went missing.
In the fashion circuit too, trends have changed. A few years ago, wearing a bright outfit was normal, and wouldn’t make heads turn. Now, our wardrobes are based on soft English pastel shades, and a few vibrant ensembles are reserved for festivals or social events. Interior designers now hand out guides to muted colours when you are planning a home makeover. Surprisingly, bright colours are not used even in kids’ rooms!
When Steve Jobs came out with commercials for the iPod, he used a white background with clear black typography. This launched a brave new world where less was more, and the use of colours was minimal.
After years of being conditioned to muted colour tones, my early memories of those green walls make me ask: “Have we become colourless?”
(The author is Chief Design Editor, Deccan Herald)