4. Celestial Geometry

—Mirabai, 16th century

facing page Hawa Mahal, Jaipur, 18th century Once established, the formal Mughal jali, like so many other idioms of art and architecture, evolved into a delightful variety of themes and styles over the course of the eighteenth to twentieth centuries. The jali form was expanded and diversified, made of a range of materials and put to many decorative and functional uses. These are most clearly seen in the architecture of Rajasthan and central India, in late Maharaja palaces, and even in early twentieth century Indo-British buildings such as Edwin Lutyen’s design for the Viceroy’s House—now the Rashtrapati Bhavan, in New Delhi.

In the courtly setting, jalis served to screen off the women’s quarter (zenana) from public gaze and were employed in almost all the forts and palaces of princely Rajasthan. While they had the desired effect of segregating the sexes, in the artistic imagination jali screens also sparked a sense of mystery and allure for what lay beyond. Life behind the jali screen became a point of fascination partly because it was the most powerful and inaccessible women who were concealed from gaze. A page from the Mandi Bhagavata reveals the social order of women at court, where those of less exalted status are prominent while the elite are glimpsed through pierced screens (fig. 1).1 Raja Kansa is shown at centre, listening to the prophecy communicated by an old duenna while other women attend on him and provide courtly entertainment.

FIG. 1

Flanking this scene are tall red jalis—possibly indicating pinjra-kari (woodwork) of the Kashmir region—shielding the secluded world of his wives, but offering a glimpse through a little window opening.2 The manner of creating a cut-out window in the middle of a jali screen appears in many architectural compositions, including in a large geometric and floral jali wall at Amber Fort (fig. 2).

Jalis allowed women to be part of wider courtly spectacles and events, particularly as some balcony screens were carved at a downward angle that would provide arena or street views. A painting of c. 1730–40 attributed to the painter Nainsukh depicts the Mughal emperor Muhammad Shah witnessing an elephant fight from a jharokha window (fig. 3). The ladies of the court also view the event, although from behind hatched screens that flank the Emperor.

The literary imagination too was fired by the metaphorical possibilities of the jali. Among them is the conceit of a building dressed as a veiled woman.3 Jalis, with their interlace patterns that resemble woven textiles, can be seen to act as a veil

FIG. 2

for women in the zenana quarters. Behind the jali, women were active writers of Persian masnavis, Urdu ghazals, Braj Bhasha poetry and other forms of literature. For example, at the court of Kishangarh, Bani Thani or Vishnupriya, beloved of the poetprince Savant Singh, was an author in her own right.4 In a Kishangarh painting of the mid-eighteenth century, she appears in shadowy form behind a screen in a pavilion while the prince gazes up at her from a garden terrace below (fig. 4).

The desert forts and palaces of Rajasthan are famed for their jali work, where lengthy facades are covered with intricately carved screens that are integrated alongside dense carving and other forms of ornament. Typical of the Rajput style was the combination of a deeply curving bangla-eave style roof or cusped arches surmounting the jali screen. One of the most recognizable buildings of Rajasthan, the Hawa Mahal (Palace of the Winds) in Jaipur offers a spectacular facade featuring these elements (see p. 208). Shaped like the rising crown (mukut) of Krishna, the pierced facade allowed breezes to flow and offered its occupants views of the Pink City’s street life while integrating coloured glass into the openings.

FIG. 1 Raja Kansa listens to the prophecy of an old duenna, folio from the Mandi Bhagavata Purana Mandi, c. 1635–50 Private collection, Mumbai

FIG. 2 Amer Fort, Rajasthan, late 17th century

The medieval city and fortress of Jaisalmer feature elaborate perforated screens carved in the typical golden stone of the region (fig. 6) which provide relief from the fierce sun of the desert. In a Jaisalmer haveli, pierced sun and moon motifs in the wall of a chamber (fig. 5) also allude to the solar and lunar lineages of the Rajput clans.

FIG. 6

At Deeg in the Bharatpur region, an eighteenth-century waterside pleasure palace is decorated with pierced walls and railings (figs 7, 8). Structures in and around the same site also incorporate earlier Mughal jalis in red sandstone (fig. 9), which stand out against the buff local materials. Later jalis are much less fine but cheerfully present nevertheless in this site (figs 10, 11), which is an odd mix of architectural

facing page Panels in the Jali Pavilion at the Shangri La Museum of Islamic Art, Culture & Design, Honolulu

previous pages Ustad master marble carvers at work, Makrana The twentieth century in India began with an architectural project of imperial scale that heralded a remarkable revival of the millennia-old Indian tradition of working with stone. Emperor George V laid the foundation plaque in 1911 for the construction of the new capital of the British Empire on a small hillock in central Delhi, nestled among the imposing monuments of Sultanate and Mughal India. As the soaring Viceregal Palace, the two imposing Secretariats and the residential and commercial centres began to take form over the next two decades, it became clear that the formidable legacy of design and craftsmanship that could be traced back to the Hindu. Buddhist, Rajput, Sultanate and Mughal architectural traditions weighed heavily on the two chief architects of the project, Edwin Lutyens and Herbert Baker. It was, therefore, essential that New Delhi, the ninth in a series of royal capitals, had to present a symbolic and architectural statement that would stand the test of time.

The legendary quarries of Rajasthan, slumbering for centuries, were remobilized in order to finish the project on schedule and soon tonnes of mottled red sandstone from Tantpura and white marble from Makrana began arriving in Delhi, transported this time not by bullock and elephant, but by train and truck. These were the same quarries from which Emperor Akbar had ordered the sandstone for Fatehpur Sikri and his grandson, Shah Jahan, the marble for the Taj Mahal. Ustads, traditional master stone carvers, in their hundreds, were also recruited to Delhi from the northern Indian states of Uttar Pradesh and Rajasthan to work in situ on the acres of carved relief panels, jali screens, ornamental railings and floor and wall cladding needed to construct the new capital (see pp. 224–225).

The syncretistic style of design and ornament developed by Lutyens and Baker was highly stylized and a little stiff, and it did not do justice to the incredible skill that still resided in the hands of the ustad master carvers. However, the very act of creating a completely new city on such a monumental scale clearly demonstrated that the quarries of the past could be brought back to life and that skilled labour remained abundantly available. It was, however, not until a few decades later that

facing page fig. 2 Wall panels with the flowering plants patterns inlaid with precious stone in the Mughal Suite bathroom, Shangri La

fig. 3 A jali window with an elongated lily plant floating on a geometric lattice, Shangri La

Lattice of Divine Light in Mughal Architecture and Ornament Navina Najat Haidar with contributions by Mitchell Abdul Karim Crites, George Michell and Ebba Koch • Photographs by Abhinav Goswami

A jali is a perforated stone or latticed screen, with ornamental patterns that draw on the compositional rhythms of calligraphy and geometry. In the parts of Asia and the Mediterranean where solar rays are strongest and brightest is where ustads, or master artisans, were able to evolve an aesthetic language of light, giving it form and shape through stone and other materials. Jalis share a common aim to bring filtered light into enclosed spaces, while providing protection and privacy. Additionally, they shape the atmosphere of a sacred space, augment the grandeur of palaces and enhance the charm of domestic interiors.

This book explores the delicate beauty of more than two-hundred jalis across India, from fourteenthcentury examples in Delhi to those designed by global contemporary artists inspired by historical styles. This expansive volume covers the temple designs of the Gujarat sultanates, imperial symbolism and Sufi allusions in Mughal jalis, the innovations and adaptations of jalis across Rajasthan and central India and, further south, calligraphy in stone relief and pierced stone in the Deccan.

With contributions by American art historian Mitchell Abdul Karim Crites and George Michell, an authority on South Asian architecture, this lavishly illustrated publication reveals the poetry etched in these stone screens.

With 220 illustrations.

₹2950 | $65 | £49ISBN 978-93-85360-74-9 www .mapinpub.c om