Folio from the HanzanamaThe illustrated Hamzanama (Story of Hamza) made for the Mughal emperor Akbar (r. 1556–1605) has been noted for several remarkable qualities. The original number of painted leaves—1,400, of which about 140 survive—is far greater than for most projects; the size of each folio is almost three times that of any other manuscript of the Mughal period; the illustrations have text on the reverse, stimulating yet-unanswered questions about the manuscript’s practical use; and, finally, the dynamic hybrid painting style indicates the variety and number of talented artists in the royal workshop at this early date.
Although Akbar is believed to have been unable to read, he is known to have enjoyed being read to, and he maintained a library of more than twenty-eight thousand volumes. This folio from the Hamzanama illustrates an episode involving ‘Umar, a spy loyal to the Prophet Muhammad’s uncle Hamza, who learns of a secret tunnel into the castle of Fulad from a foot soldier whom he has knocked down. A caption below the image identifies the subject and the characters depicted. The painting of the figures has been attributed to the artist Keshav Das, while the upper part of the work is thought to have been executed by another artist, Mah Muhammad; such collaborations were typical of the Mughal workshop practice.[1] The fallen soldier’s staring eyes, undone turban, and sprawling body illustrate the expressive energy that characterizes the entire manuscript. In contrast, the spry figure of ‘Umar is more classically restrained, representing another stylistic thread woven through the paintings. As in other folios, nature—denoted here by birds, lush foliage, and a lively flowing stream—is a strong element of the composition. The thickly applied paint has worn off in some places, exposing the woven cotton support below. Recent scholarship on the extensive palette has found that a variety of sources were used to achieve the color gradations, which can be seen here particularly in the many tones of green and the shading of the modeled areas.[2]
The Museum für Angewandte Kunst in Vienna has the greatest concentration of surviving Hamzanama folios, with many others dispersed in major museum collections around the world. The Metropolitan Museum holds five.[3]
Navina Haidar in [Ekhtiar, Soucek, Canby, and Haidar 2011]
Footnotes:
1. Seyller et al. 2002, pp. 171–72, no. 55. (see Bibliograhy)
2. Owen, Antoinette in ibid, p. 284.
3. Acc. nos. 18.44.1, 18.44.2, 23.264.1, 23.264.2, and 24.48.1.
Umar Walks Around the Castle, Meets a Footsoldier and Kicks Him to the GroundNow Umar demonstrates the other skill that his job requires. Sent out on a reconnaissance mission around Fulad Castle, Umar hears a stranger approaching. He hides until the armed footsoldier is before him and then ambushes him, knocking him to the ground with one powerful kick. Umar pounces on him, and sitting on his chest, threatens to kill him. The perturbed footsoldier, an
named Haybat, pleads for mercy.
"'Khwaja Umar, don't kill me, for I will render you good service. i will show you the way into the castle.'
Khwaja Umar rejoiced and took the to the Amir. When the Sahib-Qiran asked him about himself, he said, 'O prince, if you mount I will show you the way.' The Amir Sahib-Qiran mounted with a group of champions with that in front. He led them to the foot of a mountain and showed them a tunnel."
Hamza immediately puts the 's information to good use. He proceeds down the tunnel that the revealed, and pops up in the middle of Fulad Castle, where he touches off a great commotion. The lord of the castle, Fulad Aad, learns from his vizier that the intruder is Hamza, a hero without equal, one for whom no task is too difficult. With this unstoppable figure in their midst and his followers at the gate, the vizier advises Fulad Aad to ababdon the cause of Zumurrud Shah and to convert to Islam. This Fulad Aad does gladly. All the people of his domain convert as well.
The ambush itself, which must be the act described at the very end of the preceding page, is depicted with great flair and narrative economy. Umar, for whom weapons are normally superfluous, holds his battle-axe behind him as the scuttles across the brightest part of the composition in pursuit of his victim, whose escape is cut off by a stream. The unlucky sprawls helplessly before his attacker. He is clearly panic-stricken: his expression is anxious, his turban has come utterly undone, his shoe has fallen off, and his arrows lie beside him like so many porcupine quills shed in vain. In the background is Fulad Castle, where a lone woman watches from a window incongruously in the middle of the walls.
This dramatic scene is the work of Kesava Dasa. Kesava Dasa was particularly enamored of European-style modeling, an effect used selectively here, as it typically is throughout his work, to convey the deep, voluminous folds in Umar's fringed robe and the clinging, body-revealing quality of his running shorts. it is probably no coincidence that Kesava chooses to dress Umar in a deep blue, the color worn by many religious figures in European painting, and one that he employs often in his later work. [1] Both figures also have the long, narrow nose and tight, dark features that Kesava habitually favors in his facial types.
Much of the appeal of his painting stems from the luxuriant landscape, which belies the sinister mood of the episode. Some details, such as richly textured, whitened tree trunks, and the feathery, spiderlike tufts of grass, are familiar from Kesava's previous painting (MAK, Vienna, B.I. 8770/26). Others, such as the dark sward along the stream and the date palm tree, are new to his work. Still others come into view only after sometime. The brace of partridges resting in the very center of the painting, the peacock and peahen roosting discreetly above them—these bits of closely observed nature bring moments of vitality and joy to even the most violent scenes.
The upper part of the painting appears to have been done by another artist. The castle is presented as a conglomeration of boxy forms, a far cry from both the rich naturalism seen below and the spationally complicated cityscapes that Kesava designs in his later works. One notable departure from this formulaic quality is the bulbous base of the turret, rendered as a streaming thin wash quite unlike the even, opaque forms behind it. And when we realize that the patch of paint beside the base describes no form in nature, but only serves to blur the transition between the grove in which Umar fells his counterpart and the achitecture of Fulad Castle, we see how two artists could cobble together their seperate contributions to produce a painting of this size and complexity. The architecture has the same naive quality as Mah Muhammad's other efforts in this vein, and should be attributed to him.
John Seyller in [Seyler et al. 2002]
Footnotes:
1. See, for example, the painting of St. Matthew the Evangelist, signed by Kesava and dated 1588, Bodleian Library, Oxford, MS Douce Or a, 1, f.41b; Topsfield, Andrew, An Introduction to Indian Court Painting. London: Victoria and Albert Museum, 1994, no. 5 (color).
