Previously dubbed as the Mademoiselle of Miniatures, Princess Vaishnavi Kumari is guided by the vow of keeping Kishangarh within the grid of art and culture. To this end, she has rampantly preserved and promoted the legacy of Kishangarh paintings, recently opening up the Studio Kishangarh that serves to inculcate the traditional appeal of miniature paintings with modern aesthetics, alongside bringing more artisans into the art workforce.
Recently, an exhibition at Bikaner House, Delhi, was put up by the collaborative efforts of Vaishnavi Kumari and Monica Jain, Founder-Director of Art Centrix Space, where she spoke to Outlook Traveller. The exhibition, "Ishq Chaman," or The Garden of Love, pays tribute to the artistic legacy of Kishangarh. The school of art, known for its ethereal Bani Thani portraits, delicate floral motifs, and intricate detailing, was originally popularised under the patronage of Raja Savant Singh and the master artist Nihal Chand. In our conversation, the Princess spoke about her inspirations, her ideas and the roadmap for the time to come, which has been reproduced here.
I have a background in design, and I studied art history as well. When I came back to India, I realised that fortunately, in Kishangarh, where I'm from—my hometown—there were still families of artists existing to this day. Most of those artists have had this vocation in the family for generations. At the time, I felt that there was a need to get them out of their homes, out of the repetitive work they were doing, and give them modern patronage.
I feel the difference between miniatures today and miniatures of medieval times—say, during the Mughal period or the Rajput period—is that, in those days, there was a lot of patronage. It was the influence of the patron and the economic benefits that the artists received that allowed the art to flourish.
That was the main idea behind starting the studio—to take it forward in contemporary times. Because I think we can’t just copy what was there. The antiquities and old miniatures are beautiful; they are museum quality and out of this world. But I feel we need to form our own aesthetic so that, in 100 or 200 years, people can look back at this time period and say that there was an art movement, and [there was] meaningful work happening in this field.
Your atelier, Studio Kishangarh, carries forward the legacy of the Kishangarh school of painting. How does this exhibition reinterpret that artistic heritage for a contemporary audience?
Studio Kishangarh endeavours to not only locate local painters from in and around Kishangarh but also provide them with training, materials, and a sense of direction in the themes and motifs we create.
We aim to make art that is meaningful. We have a range of work—we do a lot of devotional art inspired by Pushtimarg and the bhakti of Krishna, which is deeply embedded in the poetry, music, and history of Kishangarh. But we also have a more contemporary range, which you can see in "Ishq Chaman," where we want to make audiences aware that miniature paintings can be modern, fresh, and interesting for the contemporary spaces we imagine today.
Can you speak about "Ishq Chaman" in terms of the narratives you have chosen to explore in this show—devotion, courtly life, or poetry, which miniatures often entail?
The title itself—"Ishq Chaman," or The Garden of Love—is actually a set, a group of dohas (couplet) written by my ancestor, Raja Sawant Singh. His pen name was Nagridas. He was a very famous bhakti poet and saint. He wrote these rekhta couplets, which talk about devotion—infused with Sufi imagery but also a deep sense of bhakti. They explore the longing for love, the same longing one has for God.
We took this aspect from the poems and explored the imagery of the garden—the bounty of nature and how it sprouts and spreads everywhere. It is that essence that translates into our love for the divine.
What's your take on miniatures in terms of the spatio-temporal spaces they convey? For instance, Mani Kaul speaks about them in terms of events happening simultaneously on the same planes.
This is an interesting question because, in Kishangarh art specifically, what is really unique, I would say, are the landscapes in the paintings.
You still see them today in Kishangarh. There’s a very famous painting called "The Boat of Love," which is actually on view at the National Museum. It is inspired by one of the poems of Nagridas-ji (Raja Sawant Singh). When you observe the imagery, Radha and Krishna are on top of a hill, then they descend to the banks of the Yamuna, and then they ascend into a secluded grove. The visual is just like Phool Mahal, the fortifications, and the landscape you see around the lake.
This three-part narrative is often repeated in the paintings. Kishangarh miniatures have this unique quality where the first view you get of the painting is never the whole story—there are layers within layers. And that’s what makes them special. Every time you view these paintings, it’s like unfurling a new mystery, and your experience of them is always unique.
The recent India Art Fair was a mega event, showcasing new trends in the Indian art landscape. It also drew criticism for being exclusive and class-based. Where do you see Studio Kishangarh within such an ecosystem?
I think art is the right medium to start a conversation. One of the reasons I started the studio was to have this conversation—about how an atelier, a qarkhana, like those in the medieval period, could create a fantastic school of art that permeated every aspect of design we see today.
For instance, when you see someone wearing a beautifully printed kurta with block prints and little Mughal bootis—the Mughal floral motifs—those designs have been interpolated from miniatures of the Jahangir period. Similarly, so many elements of design we use today, consciously or unconsciously, have origins in miniature painting.
I feel we are so used to seeing these things that we don’t stop to consider where they came from. With Studio Kishangarh, we’ve built a platform where we can have this conversation—about supporting artisans, artisanal communities, and bringing new patronage, ideas, and mediums into contemporary art.
And I feel, especially with people like Monica Jain from Art Centrix, we get a platform to talk about how heritage is not just about the past—we are still living this heritage. And we can work together as a community to support its evolution.
What do you hope spectators take away from "Ishq Chaman"?
I would hope that what they take away from the exhibition is that art is not static, and its inspiration is not one-dimensional.
What we wanted to show is that you can be influenced by history, poetry, landscape, a certain thought, a feeling of longing, or by the art of the past. I wanted viewers to come, enjoy, and experience this world of miniature paintings—the divine, aesthetic, and ethereal quality of this art form.
