The classification of artists, according to gender, nationality or ethnicity is always a tricky task. When the artist belongs to the so-called diaspora, it becomes even more complicated. Many artists of Indian origin who live abroad are tagged as “ethnic” in their home environments and as “diasporic” in India, which has its own thriving art scene.
Through much of the early stages of their career, the SinghTwins had to face this dilemma. Though they did not exhibit or sell in India, in Britain, where they were born and lived, they were neatly pigeonholed as “Asians”. In their case, their choice of style made them even more of outsiders.
As students in an art college in Liverpool, they were constantly told to take the path of western art and shun everything else. “It annoyed us to no end.” They turned instead to
the most neglected of Indian styles — the miniature.
“We were impressed by Indian miniatures when we came to India on a long tour in 1980, travelling with our father in his caravan,” they say. They went from city to city and saw monuments by the scores; at the National Museum in Delhi, the Moghul miniatures took their breath away, and they resolved to learn the style to perfection.
Today, after their initial struggles in trying to battle the academic world, which did not take easily to their non-conformism, the twins have become hugely popular, with showings in all the prestigious institutions in Britain and with a fanbase of buyers who love their works, with their mix of satire, political comment and a pastiche of styles. They are canny marketers too — they dress alike, handle their own sales and insist on everything being attributed to them as the SinghTwins, though Rabindra does point out she is 10 minutes older than Amrit. They take commissions for paintings, but never sell their originals which they carefully preserve.
In Mumbai, they are showing 22 works based on tarot themes in Sakshi Gallery. The illustrations have been done for a book on tarot by Dr Roopa Patel who commissioned them. The results are fascinating, not the least for the infusion of Indianness into the tarot imagery and the wide referencing of art styles. The Fool, for example, is done in the Moghul style, with a young man wearing a turban. Decorative Art Noveau flourishes abound in most of the works — “we have always loved decorative styles and Art Noveau is a favourite.” Japanese, Greek classical and of course Indian touches abound — in The World, the traditional Bull looks distinctly like any we would see in India.
Many of their earlier works have become known for their sharp observations about politics, world affairs and the culture of celebrity.
In Partners in Crime they showed Bush and Blair standing on the globe, grinning and shaking hands, while in Nineteen Eighty Four, they depicted the storming of the Golden Temple. Many of their works, big and small, are littered with details and vignettes, done with great precision, which gives each work a montage kind of feel.
One of their most famous work was Zero to Hero showing David Beckham and his wife Victoria on a throne, a satirical comment at the commercialisation of sport. The element of kitsch in their work is often ironical, with occasionally even Bollywood getting a look in.
The art establishment in Britain has been slow in recognising them. But honours have come in thick and fast. They were felicitated by the city of Liverpool, and were made artists in residence
for the Manchester Commonwealth Games, and have just been named for an MBE in the Queen’s honours list. It has been a quiet vindication for the two who almost did not get a degree because their work was too non-conformist.