It is recognized by every historian of Indian art, especially of Indian miniature painting, that Jagdish Mittal was gifted with a unique inner eye, which intuitionally grasped the virtuosity of a work of art, almost at first glance. This sharpness of instinct had come to him not merely through academic exercises, but simply by keeping his percipient eye open to the best of art. This was in the same vein as what the renowned musician, Kumar Gandharva, had once told me -- that to get the inkling of the quality of music is to listen to the best music, and you will know what is ethereal and what is just some ‘charming noise.’ Jagdish ji had seen oceans of art objects that came his way, without any pre-conceived biases in favour of renowned names, reputed collections, museums or market value. Prejudiced conceptions such as ‘later,’ ‘classical,’ ‘folk,’ ‘craft,’ ‘vernacular,’ and ‘mainstream’ meant little to him. For him, a tribal bronze charged with an intuitive expression could be far more important than a mediocre Mughal painting. In other words, he cultivated a most discerning eye, not coloured by the established hierarchy of genres.
Jagdish ji was a practising artist in his early career. This factor played a crucial role in the formation of his intuitive perception of the subjective vision of the artist and the way they create a corresponding visual form. This experience also made him an ‘insider’ in the world of art makers and not merely its chronicler. His varied interests and influences also allowed him to appreciate, at the same time, a great textile, a temple sculpture, a Rajasthani painting, a folk bronze, or even an everyday domestic object, with equal aesthetic appraisal.
Jagdish ji and I shared an almost four-decade-long friendship. More than 40 years ago, I had presented a paper on the theme “The Goddess and the Buffalo in Indian Culture” at a conference, which he also attended. I had piles of material on the subject through my extensive fieldwork in western and central India, documenting rituals, iconographies, legends of the goddess, and the various shades of her relationship with the buffalo demon. Nearly 20 years after the conference, I received from him -- just out of the blue -- a copy of a rare book by Henry Whitehead, titled Village Gods of South India, giving a detailed account of the legends, shrines and rituals of the goddess as prevalent in southern India a century ago. That was an eye-opener for me.
In my long career in the field of Indian art studies, I have known and befriended some of the most renowned historians of Indian art. But I have not come across anyone like Jagdish ji, who retained in his mind my growing research interests, and remembered to send me, long after others may have forgotten about it, a precious book related to the field. This gift lent so much strength to my work on the connubial relationship between the goddess and the buffalo in folk cultures of India. I cherish it greatly, and it still remains on the small shelf over my desk, reminding me almost every day of the brilliance, depth, grace and warmth of Jagdish ji.
Jyotindra Jain is an Indian art and cultural historian and museologist.