Artistic freedom has limits

When an ailing Michael Angelo was informed that his rival Raphael would continue painting the Sistine Chapel in his absence, he cried out angrily: “On my ceiling?”

The pope reminded him gently: “It is yours only when you are painting on it.”

That was a great lesson in humility that the sculptor learnt — a quality sadly lacking in many artists today.

The recent embarrassment in the National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA), where the well-known film-maker Amol Palekar was invited to speak at an exhibition of the paintings of the late artist Prabhakar Bharve, is a case in point. Instead of staying with the agenda, the guest speaker chose to use the opportunity to vent his anger against the official policies of NGMA.

It was both inappropriate and uncivil to use the occasion to settle personal scores. It was not surprising that the audience, consisting mostly of very senior artists, did not protest when the organisers interrupted his speech with a request not to speak off the mark. The filmmaker not only lost his cool, but expressed his disappointment later that fellow artists did not support him. Needless to say, the episode left a bad taste. It also raises questions as to how far artists can go to assert their freedom.

Amol Palekar is a highly respected actor, director and film-maker. He is an artist of rare talent and excellence. He has won several awards and has a worldwide following of fans. But none of these can make up for uncivil behaviour in a public space. Artistic freedom does not entitle an artist to offend or indulge in unacceptable behaviour.

Artists are known to be temperamental, and their unconventional ways are readily accepted. In fact, they are loved all the more because their oddities make them so special. Musicians, dancers, writers, actors — they all have their quirks which an adoring public readily forgives. It’s the out of the ordinary that makes them what they are. And, as long as it does not dilute the quality of their art, who cares?

If Amol Palekar had succumbed to any of these traits even in public, he would have been forgiven. But, to make a carefully rehearsed speech criticising policy matters of the very organisation that had invited him was unpardonable. It also had no relevance in this forum. The organisers, including the director of NGMA, were compelled to interrupt his speech with a polite request that he stick to the subject of the evening. And rightly so.

Museums and art galleries all over the world have their rules and code of conduct. Many of them have an entry fee as well, with concessions for senior citizens. It is surprising why a similar policy recently adopted by the NGMA should have provoked public resistance. Or, why a code of conduct be labelled as the government’s way of throttling artists?

Art spaces are undoubtedly bastions of free expression. Places where musicians, theatre persons and painters, among others, enjoy complete freedom and space to describe their innermost thoughts and emotions through a song or a play or a picture.

At the same time, a sensitive artist will also be sensitive to the feelings and reactions of the audience. It’s a thin line that divides free artistic expression with the rights of others “not to be exposed to what is unacceptable.” There is a responsibility that goes with artistic freedom. As the dean of a well-known arts college told his students: “Artists with a desire to provoke outrage must remember the rights of others not to be exposed to what they cannot accept.”

For example, mixing politics with art events may not be acceptable to audiences. Although it’s a well-known fact that artists have been muzzled into silence by threats and strong-arm tactics by extremists in this country, an art event where art lovers have been invited is not the right place to discuss these matters.

The public, which spends time and money to watch a dance programme or listen to a music concert or to see an art film should not be made into a captive audience for a political debate.

If an artist makes her audience uncomfortable, she has sadly failed in her mission of conveying beauty through art. When performing in public, she has to be conscious of public sensitivity. In the long run, the audience does matter.

If writers don’t have readers, if actors don’t have spectators, or musicians don’t have listeners — they exist in a vacuum. The iconic Sanjay Subramanian once told this writer in an interview: “The audience is doing me a favour by allowing me to indulge in this art form.”

That statement, which showed respect for his rasikas, is worth remembering.