The Other Fair: Art Mumbai Comes of Age

 Since 2008 Delhi has held the India Art Fair (IAF). Art Mumbai, now in its third edition, arrived much later.

 

Delhi is a dignified (if overcrowded) event, confident in its status as the historic centre of the country. Whereas on the opening night of Art Mumbai there is a fashion parade, after which one of the founders is temporarily a DJ at an enormous warehouse. Delhi’s fair is older, spread over a wider area, full of a more sedate authority. Art Mumbai is jazzier, more compact, full of excitement. 

 

A momentary (and highly biased) digression:

 

As a resident of the latter city for the last two years, the Delhi–Mumbai split feels ever present. The former has always had huge political capital. It has been a place where your neighbour might invade you. The other is younger, more porous, an invitation to trade. Indeed when the Portuguese Princess Catharine of Braganza married Charles II in 1661, Mumbai (Bombay) was part of the dowry. So they are not really comparable places—except Mumbai, in my mind, is far better. 

 

Tribalism aside, I was excited for Art Mumbai. Many artists who I have worked with were being exhibited, and within minutes of arrival the offering felt stronger than last year. 

 

If you have been to an art fair then I apologise for this summary. But there is a sensation that hits you on entering that is entirely global. These places are subject to their own art-world atmospheric conditions. The whirr of insecurity drifts around collectors and gallerists, carried on over-circulated air. Slightly sprung temporary flooring initially seems kind to the feet but it will cripple you. If you like something it will have sold. You see other people taken backstage into clandestine cabins, built for discretion and access you don’t have. Chatter about sales prowls about like the monster of rumour in the Aeneid; many-tongued, many-eyed, and with countless ears. 

 

Here is a smattering of it:

 

 

 

 

 

 
Selecting any set of work is a perilous task. But here are five, chosen for quixotic reasons. 

 

Zaam Arif (b.1999) is an American-Pakistani artist based in Houston. His work has a quiet and assertive realism, often grounded in rusty, sober colours. 

 

Harleen Kaur (b.1994) is a Delhi-based painter whose work explores memory and the process of articulation. 

 

Tyeb Mehta (1925-2009) is one of the greats of Indian Modernism. Conceptual peer of Bacon, and a titan of the modern market. 

 

Howard Hodgkin (1932–2017), included here as an example of a British artist whose relationship with India was formative. 

 

There is much to be excited about in India. I refuse to wheel out the various barometers of the growth of the Indian art world as, to me, they reduce what is visual to what is functional. The bottom line is that the art world in India is still much smaller than it will be. The enthusiasm I feel is not based on auction results, but on some of the work at fairs like this, on biennales, on studio visits, and on the artists I meet who are offering their India. This is a radical act in a country which is deeply set on a very specific course. This is where the growth lies.