On the Indian subcontinent, sculpture seems to have been the favoured medium of artistic expression. Even architecture and the little painting that has survived from the early periods partake of the nature of sculpture. Particularly is this true of rock-cut architecture, which is often little more than sculpture on a colossal scale. Structural buildings are also profusely adorned with sculpture that is often inseparable from it. The close relationship between architecture and sculpture has to be taken into account when considering individual works that, even if complete in themselves, are also fragments belonging to a larger context. Indian sculpture, particularly from the 10th century onward, thus cannot be studied in isolation but must be considered as part of a larger entity to the total effect of which it contributes and from which it in turn gains meaning.
The subject matter of Indian sculpture is almost invariably religious. This does not mean that it cannot be understood as a work of art apart from its religious significance; but, at the same time, an understanding of its motivation and intent enriches one’s appreciation. Much of what is represented is the recounting of legend and myth, particularly in the two centuries before Christ, when narrative relief was much in vogue. The work at this time, didactic and edificatory in intent, generally expresses itself in forms that are surprisingly earthy and sensuous. The anthropomorphic representation of the Buddha is avoided, and the subsidiary gods and goddesses are very much creatures of this earth. The Buddha image formulated around the 1st century ce is not what one would expect of the meditative, compassionate, Master of the Law; he is presented rather as an energetic, earthy being radiating strength and power.
The foundations of traditional Hindu imagery were also laid about the same time that the Buddha image was first formulated: images with several arms, and sometimes heads, representing the Indian mind’s attempt to define visually the infiniteness of divinity. In subsequent periods the image with many arms became a commonplace in Hindu, Buddhist, and Jaina iconography. Although the various pantheons expanded, they continued to share features of common derivation, expressing the belief that beyond the phenomenal multiplicity of forms lay the unity of the Godhead.
In addition to the major religions, there has always existed in India a substratum of folk beliefs and cults dedicated to the worship of powers that preside over the operation of the life processes of nature. These fertility cults, best expressed in the worship of the male and female divinities yakshas and yakshis, played an important part in the development of Indian art. Among the perennial motifs that spring from the cults, those expressing life and abundance—such as the lotus, the pot overflowing with vegetation, water, or the like, the tree, the amorous couple, and above all the yakshas and yakshis themselves—are most significant. The images of these divinities, in particular, are the source of a great deal of artistic imagery and played a leading part in the development of iconographic types such as the images of the Buddha, the goddess Shri, and other divinities. The maternal as the ideal of female beauty, which is manifested artistically in the emphasis on full breasts and wide hips, can be traced to the same beliefs. The very richness and exuberance of much Indian art is an expression of the view of life that equates beauty with abundance.
It is difficult to generalize about the style of a sculptural tradition that extended over a period of almost 5,000 years, but it is nevertheless clear that the distinguishing quality of Indian sculpture is its emphatic plasticity so obvious in Sanchi I and Mathura sculpture from the 1st–3rd century ce. Forms are seen as swelling from within in response to the power of an inner life, the sculptor’s function being to make these more manifest. At the same time a vision of form that is carved from without rather than modelled from within is also present, as for example at Bharhut. The history of much of Indian sculpture, marked by periods of high achievement bursting with creativity followed by periods in which the potentialities so postulated are gradually worked out, is essentially the interaction of these two dominant tendencies.
Indus valley civilization (c. 2500–1800 bce)
Sculpture found in excavated cities consists of small pieces, generally terra-cotta objects, soapstone, or steatite, seals carved for the most part with animals, and a few statuettes of stone and bronze. The terra-cotta figurines are summarily modelled and provided with elaborate jewelry, which was fashioned separately and applied to the surface of the piece. Most of the work is simple, but a small group of human heads with horns are very sensitively modelled. Animal figures are common, particularly bulls, which are often carved with a sure understanding of their bulky, massive form. This plastic quality is also found in the humped bulls engraved on steatite seals, where the modelling is more refined and sensitive. A humpless beast, generally called a “unicorn,” is another favourite animal, but it is frequently quite stylized. In addition to bisons, elephants, rhinoceroses, and tigers, seals are carved with images of apparent religious significance, often strongly pictographic.
The terra-cotta sculpture and the seals both show two clear and distinct stylistic trends, one plastic and sensuous, the other linear and abstract. These appear during the same period and are also seen in the small group of stone and bronze sculptures that date from this period (National Museum, New Delhi). Of extraordinarily full and refined modelling is a fragmentary torso from Harappa, barely four inches (10 cm) high but of imposing monumentality; the same feeling for massive form is present in a lesser known bronze buffalo. A jaunty bronze dancing girl with head tilted upward (about 4.5 inches [11 cm] high), from Mohenjo-daro, and a headless figure of a male dancer from Harappa, shoulders twisted in a circular movement, clearly demonstrate, in the attenuated and wiry tension of their forms, the second component of Indus valley art. Of great interest is a famous bearded figure from Mohenjo-daro wearing a robe decorated with a pattern composed of trefoil motifs. The tight, compressed shape of the body and the expansive modelling of the head demonstrate that the two aspects of form revealed in Indus valley art were not compartmentalized but interacted with each other. This can also be seen in the interplay of modelled form and textured surface frequently found in works produced by this civilization.
Mauryan period (c. 3rd century bce)
Little is known of Indian art in the period between the Indus valley civilization and the reign of the Mauryan emperor Ashoka. When sculpture again began to be found, it was remarkable for its maturity, seemingly fully formed at birth. The most famous examples are great circular stone pillars, products of Ashoka’s imperial workshop, found over an area stretching from the neighbourhood of Delhi to Bihar. Made of fine-grained sandstone quarried at Chunar near Varanasi (Benares), the monolithic shafts taper gently toward the top. They are without a base and, in the better preserved examples, are capped by campaniform lotus capitals supporting an animal emblem. The entire pillar was carefully burnished to a bright lustre commonly called the “Maurya polish.” The most famous of these monuments is the lion capital at Sarnath, consisting of the front half of four identical animals joined back to back. There is a naturalistic emphasis on build and musculature, and the modelling is hard, vigorous, and energetic, stressing physical strength and power. Very similar, if not at the same level of achievement, is the quadruple lion capital at Sanchi. Single lions are found at Vaishali (Bakhra), Rampurva, and Lauriya Nandangarh. The Vaishali pillar is heavy and squat, and the animal lacks the verve of the other animals—features, according to some, designating it as an early work, executed before the Mauryan style attained its maturity. By contrast, the Rampurva lion, finished with painstaking and concise artistry, represents the style at its best. His smooth, muscled contours, wiry sinews, rippling, flamboyant mane, and alert stance reveal the work of a superior artist. An example at Lauriya Nandangarh is interesting because the pillar and the lion are both complete and in their original place, giving a clear idea of the column as it appeared to its contemporaries.
The lion was the animal most often represented, but figures of elephants and bulls are also known. At Dhauli in Orissa, the fore part of an elephant is carved out of rock on a terrace above a boulder that carries several of Ashoka’s edicts. The modelling here is soft and gentle, and the plump, fleshy qualities of the young animal’s body, seen as emerging from the rock, are suffused with warmth and natural vitality. Since the contrast with the rather formal, heraldic lions could not be more complete, the sculpture clearly testifies to the simultaneous existence of a style different from that of the lion capitals. The style might very well represent the indigenous tradition of plastic form that appears consistently in later art and also in some of the animal capitals made in the imperial atelier, notably the damaged elephant that once crowned the pillar at Sankisa and, above all, the splendid bull from Rampurva. In this great work of art, the two opposing concepts of form merge in a work of harmonious power. The pronounced naturalism comes from the same source as do the lions, but the tense line and hard modelling yield to a form that wells from within and at the same time is given stability and strength by a vision imposed from without.
The sudden appearance of Mauryan art with seemingly no tradition behind it has led to speculation that it was the creation of foreign artists, either Achaemenian or Hellenistic. Persian influence, particularly in the lotus capitals and the figures of lions can hardly be denied, but what is remarkable is the drastic reinterpretation of alien forms by Indian artists. This is a process that is repeatedly seen in the history of Indian art.
Besides the animal sculpture, some human figures, more or less life size, can also be assigned to the Mauryan period, though scholarly opinion is by no means unanimous on the point. Among the most important are three images discovered at Patna (ancient Pataliputra, the Mauryan capital), two of which are representations of yakshas, the popular male divinities associated with cults of fertility, and the third, found at Didarganj (a section of Patna), a representation of a yakshi, or female divinity. Stylistically the images are very similar. The standing yakshas (Indian Museum, Kolkata) are powerful creatures; the ponderous weight of their bodies, together with a certain refined appreciation of the soft flesh, is admirably rendered. The Didarganj yakshi (Patna Museum), a masterpiece, displays the Indian ideal of female beauty, the heavy hips and full breasts strongly emphasizing the maternal aspect. In a nude torso discovered at Lopanipur, the sophisticated and sensitive treatment of the surfaces and the gentle blending planes that avoid all harsh accents produce a work of much refinement.
Small stone discs (also called ring stones because several of them are perforated in the centre), found from Taxila to Patna, are clearly connected with the cult of a nude mother goddess. They represent Mauryan sculpture on a smaller and more intimate scale but characterized by the same refined and exquisite workmanship. They are executed in bas-relief, which became the favourite form of sculpture in the subsequent period.
The terra-cotta art of the Mauryan period is best represented by a substantial group of figurines, modelled for the most part, the clay sculptor performing work in his medium at the same level as the artist working in stone. Patna has yielded a large number of such works, but examples are found throughout the Gangetic Plain. The clothing and jewelry on the figurines are heavy and elaborate, the modelling, particularly of the head, is sensitive, and the expression is often one of great charm and refinement. There are also more archaic examples, distinguished by flat bodies, enormous hips, and modelled heads and breasts.
Indian sculpture in the 2nd and 1st centuries bce
The Mauryan empire collapsed in the early years of the 2nd century bce, and with it passed the art with which it was intimately related. The sculpture that is found throughout India from the middle of the 2nd century bce is startlingly different, but the process by which this change took place in a relatively short period of time is not fully understood. Several schools, sharing common features but nevertheless possessing distinct individual characteristics, are known to have existed. The history of the schools of northern India is somewhat obscure, largely due to the great destruction wrought in the Gangetic heartland; but there appears to have flourished there and in adjacent areas a school of great importance represented by the remains discovered at Bharhut, Sanchi, Mathura, and Buddh Gaya. Western India had its own school, as revealed in the sculptures decorating the cave temples, notably those of Bhaja, Pitalkhora, and Karli. In the southeast, the important school of Andhradesha flourished in the Krishna River valley at Amaravati, Jaggayyapeta, and associated sites; and in eastern India, what is now the modern state of Orissa, made its contribution in the rock-cut sculptures at Udayagiri-Khandagiri. The distinctive schools, though spread over a subcontinent, were not isolated from each other. The contacts fostered by a flourishing trade and by the constant movement of pilgrims were always very close, and it was never long before developments in one part of India were echoed in another.
Judging from extant remains, artists of the earlier period (c. 3rd century bce) preferred figures carved in the round, relief sculpture being quantitatively quite insignificant. By contrast, it was sculpture in low relief that was favoured in the first two centuries before Christ; the earlier tradition was not quite forgotten, but figures carved in the round are relatively few. Although there is no stylistic difference, relief sculpture is here considered first according to the various regional schools, and sculpture in the round is treated separately.
Indian sculpture in the 2nd and 1st centuries bce: relief sculpture of northern and central India
Among the most important, and perhaps the earliest, remains in northern India are reliefs from the great stupa at Bharhut, dating approximately to the middle of the 2nd century bce. The work, suggesting a style imitating wooden sculpture, is characterized by essentially cubical forms, flat planes that meet at sharp angles, and very elaborate and precisely detailed ornamentation of surfaces. Most of the sculpture was confined to the railing of the stupa. Some of the supporting posts bear large image of yakshas and yakshis of popular religion, now clearly pressed into the service of Buddhism, while most of the others are decorated with medallions in the centre and crescent-shaped motifs, or lunates, at the top and bottom, all filled with lotus motifs. Some medallions contain amorous couples, the overflowing pot, the goddess Shri standing on lotuses while being ceremonially bathed by elephants and other symbols of abundance; still others contain the earliest illustrations of events in the Buddha’s life and of narratives of his former incarnations as related in the Jataka tales (a collection of tales about the Buddha). Although compositions are crowded, great economy of expression is evident because the artist confines himself to the representation of essentials. Figures are often carved in horizontal rows, sometimes asymmetrically, adapting themselves awkwardly to the circular space of the medallion. Continuous narrative, in which events succeeding in time are shown in the same space, is often resorted to—the first occurrence of what was to become a favourite narrative technique. There is no attempt at establishing any interrelationship, psychological or compositional, between the various figures, each of which is strictly confined within its own space. The faces are masklike, without trace of emotion, lending a solemn and hieratic quality to their expression. Trapped between the background and a frontal plane beyond which they are not allowed to project, the figures are in a sense strictly two-dimensional, more so than in any other style of Indian sculpture. Often, however—particularly in the treatment of animals—the artist is more relaxed, giving glimpses of intimate observation and a natural rendering that anticipates the direction of future development. Like the posts, the top part, or coping, of the stone rail is also carved on both faces; on one of them is a continuous creeper bearing lotus flowers, leaves, and buds; on the other, again the winding stem of a creeper, but bearing other good things of life—such as clothes, jewelry, and fruits—and also scenes illustrating Jataka stories.
Bharhut is an extremely important monument inasmuch as it seems to mark a new beginning after the refined and naturalistic art of the Mauryan empire. The sophistication, in spite of the archaic, hieratic manner, would indicate that a considerable body of sculptural tradition, particularly in wood, preceded it; but of this no traces have survived. Be that as it may, Bharhut states for the first time, and at some length, themes and motifs that would henceforth remain a part of Indian sculpture.
Stray finds of sculpture at Mathura and other sites in modern Uttar Pradesh indicate that the Bharhut style was spread over a large part of northern India, particularly the region roughly between that city and Varanasi and Buddh Gaya in the east. A closely related style is also found at Sanchi in eastern Malava, where a representative example is the sculpture of the railing of Stupa II. Although the themes and motifs found at Bharhut occur here, narrative representations are all but absent. The style is almost identical; the stiff and rigid contours are a little softer, but both the scale and richness of Bharhut are missing.
It is the sculpture of the four gateways (toranas) of the Great Stupa (Stupa I) at Sanchi, however, that is the principal glory of that site, carrying the promise of the Bharhut style to its fulfillment. The toranas, four in number, were attached to the plain railing around the middle of the 1st century bce. They consist of square posts with capitals supporting a triple architrave, or molded band, with voluted (turned in the shape of a spiral, scroll-shaped ornament) ends and a top crowned with Buddhist symbols. Bracket figures, in the form of yakshis, serve as additional supports. All parts of these gates, strongly reminiscent of wooden construction, are covered from top to bottom with the most exquisite sculpture. Subjects and motifs found at Bharhut are also found here, the same profusely flowering lotus stem and associated motifs, the same compositions with figures basically arranged in horizontal rows, the same love for clear detail; but to all of these are added a truly voluminous sense of form, a smoother and more energetic movement, and a keen appreciation for the forms of nature, all of which endow the sculpture with a naïve and sensuous beauty unparalleled in Indian art.
Departures from the Bharhut style are particularly striking in the narrative reliefs. Their greater depth, taken together with their crowded composition, results in the background, visible at Bharhut, being submerged in shadow. The figures, in all their richness and abundance, flow out from the dark ground, secured in place by the frame of the panels. The Bharhut angular silhouette and the rigid, severe outline of the body yields at Sanchi to a gently swelling plasticity, animated by a soft, breathing quality that molds the contours without strain or tension. There is a pronounced concern with the organization of composition, and the narration is often leisurely and discursive; the artist does not just tell the basic story but also lingers over the details, amplifying them to give a vivid picture of everyday life. The emotional monotone of Bharhut survives in some Sanchi sculptures, but in others it is superseded by joyous faces and the emotional impact of vivid gesture and movement. Dejection is written large on the faces of the soldiers of Mara’s army, who had tried to disturb the Buddha’s meditation, as they stagger away from the scene of defeat, and the sensuousness of the amorous scenes is successfully evoked by the tender and intimate gestures of the couples. No longer transfixed in their own space, they turn to look at each other lovingly, responding to each other with a deeply felt understanding.
Long and elaborate bas-reliefs carved on the architraves of the toranas are the summit of the Sanchi sculptor’s art. Among the finest are representations of the wars for the relics, the defeat of Mara, the Vishvantara Jataka, and the Shaddanta Jataka. The compositions are rich and crowded with figures, and are arranged with great skill. Particularly striking is the masterly handling of animals, notably the elephant, whose fleshy body and graceful movement are captured unerringly. Deer, water buffaloes, bulls, monkeys—all of the beasts and birds of the forests—are rendered with a sense of intimacy indicating the artist’s sense of the fellowship of man and animal in the world of nature. The lush Indian landscape is often carved with ornamental trees, waterfalls, pools, mountains, and rivers. The Sanchi sculptor also shows a marked preference for architectural settings, filling his compositions with numerous buildings that often provide the spatial context for the action. Entire cities, with surrounding walls, elaborate gate houses, and palatial mansions, are depicted. Depth is achieved by rendering side views, and multiple perspective continues to be the rule.
The several large images of yakshis serving as brackets supporting the lowermost architraves of the toranas are unique achievements. Like the same goddesses at Bharhut, they are shown in association with a tree to which they cling, but the style is remarkably different. The modelling shows a concern for the charms of the body, stressing the tactile nature of its flesh. The heavy jewelry and clothing that conceal the body are drastically reduced, revealing its nudity. The soft, melting sensuousness of the female form is so greatly emphasized that the belly and the folds of flesh at the waist are almost flabby, redeemed only by the smooth, firm breasts and the tender arms and limbs.
By comparison, reliefs adorning the railing around the Mahabodhi temple at Buddh Gaya (of about the same date or a little earlier) are in a somewhat impoverished idiom, lacking the rich proliferation both of Bharhut and Sanchi. The posts have the usual medallions, lunates filled with lotuses, and reliefs depicting the familiar scenes of Buddhist myth and legend. The artistry of Buddh Gaya, however, is of a lower level of achievement than that at either Bharhut or Sanchi: the relief is deeper than that at Bharhut but shallower than that at the Great Stupa of Sanchi; and crowded compositions are lacking, as are the clear and precise ornament and the rich floral motifs. The Buddh Gaya sculptor, however, though abbreviating even further the iconography of Bharhut, breaks up, as does the Sanchi sculptor, the spatial isolation that so uncompromisingly separated each individual figure at that site.
The great school of Mathura, also, seems to have come into existence about the 2nd century bce, though its period of greatest activity falls in the first two centuries after Christ. The city was repeatedly sacked in the course of the centuries, which may account for the paucity of materials, but enough has been discovered to reveal that the style, in its early stages, was very similar to that of Bharhut, characterized by flat two-dimensional sculpture decorated with abundant and precise ornament. Several fragments discovered at the site show the gradual stages by which this style evolved, leading to the sculpture of the Great Stupa at Sanchi on the one hand and to Buddh Gaya on the other.