Isolated Carvings, from Narrative to Icon?
No doubt other early temples had friezes of this subject.[20] Clearly the Ramayana[*] was widely depicted in ancient Orissa, and the narrative was adapted to its particular setting and to the evolving design and concerns of the temple. On the one hand, as we have seen, the nature of the frieze itself changed in a way that altered its suitability for clear storytelling. On the other hand, the imagery of the temple, revolving around a somewhat flexible pantheon, came increasingly to evoke general well-being and often the world of a royal or noble patron, so that activities from everyday life, such as capturing elephants, occupied the friezes that remained. This evolving concern of temple sculpture leads at the great mid-thirteenth-century Sun Temple of Konarak to an allusive scene of a marriage with monkeys below. Other chlorite reliefs in this general position represent the founder of the temple, King Narasimha Deva. Possibly the monkeys signify a comparison between him and Rama, for in fact his wife's name was Sita.[21] ç
Rama continued to be shown as one of the major forms of Visnu[*] . Thus it is no surprise that he should appear in isolation, flanked by his brother, wife, and two monkeys on a porch window of the later thirteenth-century Ananta Vasudeva Temple at Bhubaneswar.[22] This is part of a pan-Indian process in which separate images of the god appear, reflecting the standardization of Visnu's[*] major avatars rather than a cult of Rama himself. Such images are obviously most likely to appear on Vaisnava[*] temples, whereas our earlier examples in Orissa were Saiva or Sakta. The same is true in other regions. The evolution of literary texts would suggest that a Saiva context for the Rama legend is a late development, visible in the Adhyatma Ramayana[*] discussed above, as well as in Tulsi Das's Ramcharitmanas in Hindi. The earlier sculpture would suggest, however, that in fact the Ramayana[*] was not only compatible with the cult of Siva but that there may have been oral versions in which the whole had a Saiva frame.
More remarkable than isolated images of Rama are isolated images of other characters in the story. Hanumana is the most likely candidate for this position, for he comes to represent the epitome of religious devotion, or bhakti. Throughout north India the roadside image of the heroic monkey carrying the entire Mount Gandhamadana in order to bring Laksmana[*] a life-saving herb is a familiar sight. In Orissa large, isolated carvings of this subject go back at least to the tenth century For example, one in the compound of the Gauri Temple in Bhubaneswar, apparently contemporary with that shrine, shows Hanumana striding upon a demon on which a female figure sits, a distinctive local version of the monkey's heroic act (Figure 284).[23] While the accomplished carving of the woman below demonstrates that this carving lies within the classical tradition of Orissan sculpture, the worn surface of the upper part, covered for centuries with red lead, is a reminder of the potency of this image type as an object of popular worship.
Such images may suggest the predominance of the iconic over the narrative, yet this polarity is by no means absolute, an issue to which we shall return. A fine fourteenth-century relief that probably decorated a window in the ruined syncretic Somanatha Temple at Vishnupur (about 2 kilometers from Chaurasi) demonstrates the combination of types (Figure 285). Rama dominates the composition, surrounded by monkeys, almost indistinguishable except for the crowned
Sugriva who kneels at his feet. No wonder this has been generically described as "Rama flanked by monkeys."[24] Yet the panel below suggests a particular sequence in the story There a second archer holds an arrow, a subject later represented in painting (Plate 11) and described in Oriya texts, when Laksmana[*] , angry at Sugriva's drunkenness, straightens his arrows, preparing to assault Kiskindha[*] . Thus the monkeys flanking this figure must be the solicitous monkeys who sought to assuage Laksmana[*] , while the oblivious Sugriva turns away at the far left. It follows that the upper scene represents the awakened, penitent monkey king delivering his followers to Rama, leading ultimately to the return of Sita. Here at last we see a distinctively Oriya version of an incident that occurs pictorially later, a case of local continuity that is to be expected, particularly between late sculpture and subsequent painting. Its very status as an image combines the narrative and object of worship in a form we may for the time being describe as an "iconic tableau,"
Finally, one last example of sculpture is a wooden window screen, similar to the one just described in its physical function and in its focus on a single static moment (Figure 286). This was probably carved where it is now preserved, at Dharakot, one of the small courts in southern Orissa not far from major centers of manuscript and professional painting upon which this book dwells. This undocumented carving may belong to the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century, to judge from its resemblance to the Buguda wall paintings of the 1820s.[25] in the Vishnupur relief, the composition is dominated by a large image of Rama surrounded by worshipers, with a more incidental scene in the panel below. The overall subject is the coronation of Rama, a favorite, as we shall see, in recent periods, when it comes to epitomize the entire epic. Rama is enthroned in Ayodhya, with Sita his queen, surrounded by his brothers and his former allies, including Vibhisana[*] (upper right), Hanumana rubbing his foot, and the bear Jambavan, who plays a prominent role in recent images. The panel below includes musicians and others coming to celebrate the auspicious event.
The Vishnupur and Dharakot carvings are probably but a small sample of many Ramayana[*] images that were executed. in both wood and stone between the fourteenth and the nineteenth centuries.[26] One would expect other iconic tableaux to lie behind the large wall paintings at Buguda. In fact wood carving was and still is frequently executed by the same families that produce paintings. Although the artisans themselves use the terms rupakara and chitrakara to distinguish sculptors and painters, they say that the two can intermarry; these may be descriptive labels rather than immutable castes.
One last reason for including the Dharakot scene is its high aesthetic quality, surely typical of many art objects produced for courts. The upper scene is united by the exuberant yet clear curves of architecture, garlands, umbrella staff, and the stance of figures. The actors below overlap and interact with sophistication. There is freshness and delicacy in the execution of foliage and drapery. In terms of sheer elegance this reminds us that the past two centuries, which will concern us for the rest of this study, are by no means a backwater or period of decline in relation to ancient sculpture.
Looking back over our range of sculptural examples, we may conclude that art does feed on art in many situations. In the apparent copying of the Svarna-[*]
jalesvara death of Valin at Simhanatha, we see not only the continuing popularity of a theme but also some continuity in the way it is rendered (Figures 276, 278). Likewise the survival of the last two compositions in paintings of Laksmana[*] straightening his arrow and of the coronation of Rama is credible. Yet as we move on, it is remarkable how little in recent pictorial traditions can be accounted for by our handful of surviving early carvings.
To dwell upon continuity of imagery or even of local versions of the Ramayana[*] story from the seventh to the nineteenth century would be facile and misleading. Indeed sculpture, recent festivals, and an occasional manuscript all show a general predilection for events involving monkeys. But this simian emphasis is not the rule at any point. Thus I would prefer to admit some regional identity but to stress that it changes with time and remains pluralistic at any moment.