Decolonising Devotion: Why Folk Art Is More Powerful Than Museum Art

Posted on

By Anushka Roy Bardhan

5 min read

  • Folk Art
  • Painting
  • Art
  • Religion

    • Table of Contents

    1. Introduction
      1. The Historical Displacement of Folk Traditions
      2. Folk Art Remains Functional and Sacred
      3. The Unique Power of Folk Art
    2. Conclusion

    Introduction

    Art in museums is designed to be seen, studied, and preserved. Folk art, in contrast, is meant to be used, interacted with, and passed down. While museums focus on the longevity of objects, folk traditions focus on the longevity of meaning. The difference lies in function. Museum art is static. Folk art is dynamic. And this fundamental difference makes folk art more powerful in shaping culture and collective memory.

    Image source: https://in.pinterest.com/search/pins/?q=Indian%20folk%20art%20in%20musuem&rs=typed

    The Historical Displacement of Folk Traditions

    Colonisation played a major role in redefining what counts as “art.” Under the Western academic lens, art that aligned with European aesthetic ideals was institutionalised. Art from indigenous or rural communities was either ignored or reclassified as “craft,” “artifact,” or “tribal.”

    Wistful Panghat scene in Tikuli art by Ashok Kumar

    Museums became tools of cultural authority. They began to shape public perception by deciding which objects were “worthy” of display. As a result, many living traditions were stripped of context, and the communities that created them were left out of the narrative.

    Folk Art Remains Functional and Sacred

    Folk art is embedded in daily life. It appears on floors (like rangoli), on walls (like Warli or Madhubani), and on utilitarian objects (like pots or textiles). These artworks are not created for galleries but for rituals, festivals, marriages, and seasons. Their impermanence is intentional.

    Goddess Lakshmi with owl in Bengal Pattachitra by Manoranjan Chitrakar

    Because they are repeatedly made and remade, folk arts are intergenerational. Women, in particular, play a critical role in preserving these traditions, often passing down skills orally and visually rather than through written records. This continuity sustains not only aesthetic knowledge but also social and spiritual values.

    The Unique Power of Folk Art

    Unlike much of museum art, framed, finished, and fixed in time, folk art is fluid. It breathes through repetition, ritual, and rhythm. It is never static, because it was never meant to be. Temple walls, mud floors or festival clothes, folk art continues to participate in life.

    What makes it so powerful is its deep integration with emotion, memory, and community. It doesn’t sit apart from the world but speaks to it, sings through it, and even prays with it.

    Take Madhubani, for example, an art originated in Mithila. Traditionally done by women on the walls of their homes, it’s not just decorative. Every figure, every symbol, is layered with meaning: fertility motifs, divine protectors. Even today, Madhubani is a ritual offering as its power lies in its function, not just in its form.

    Tree of Life, Madhubani Painting by Vibhuti Nath

    Kalamkari, on the other hand, comes alive through narration. The term literally means "pen work." Artists use natural dyes and bamboo pens to tell epic stories of gods, demons, dharma and doubt straight on cloth. These scrolls were once part of a travelling tradition, where the painting was often accompanied by a bard’s voice. The art wasn’t complete until it was heard.

    Tree of life: Kalamkari Painting by Harinath.N

    Then there’s Pichwai, perhaps one of the most spiritual forms of folk art. Painted behind the idol of Shrinathji in temples of Nathdwara, these works change with the seasons, the festivals, and even the moods of the deity. They are visual offerings, recreated regularly, never meant to be frozen in time. They represent not permanence, but presence.

    Gopala Leela: Shrinathji with Sacred Cows in Pichwai by Naveen Soni

    Pattachitra, from Odisha and West Bengal, is another intricate dance between devotion and brushstroke. Artists begin by praying, grinding natural pigments, and preparing the canvas with care. Every painting, whether of Jagannath, Krishna, or tales from the Ramayana is an act of worship.

    Ramayan Katha Chitra Handpainted in Pattachitra Art by Apindra Swain

    All these forms of art are acts of remembering. They hold ancestral knowledge, spiritual connection, and social belonging. They are created with the body and for the soul, passed down through generations not by textbooks, but by doing.

    Watching. Repeating. Singing. Believing.

    And that’s where folk art draws its unmatched strength, it survives not because it’s preserved, but because it’s practiced. It is at once deeply personal and profoundly collective.

    Power Structures and Cultural Legitimacy

    The distinction between “folk” and “fine” art is not neutral but a product of power dynamics. Historically, institutions have privileged art forms that align with elite tastes and Eurocentric values. This has excluded many grassroots artists from the cultural mainstream. Moreover, when folk art is exhibited in museums, it is often divorced from its original purpose and context. Its devotional and cultural meanings are flattened, and its makers are rarely credited as intellectual contributors. This raises critical questions: Who decides what is valuable? Who controls the narrative of art history? Whose traditions are preserved, and whose are erased?

    Imagery of royal couples sitting on a swing: Phad by Kalyan Joshi

    Conclusion

    If we truly want to decolonise our art spaces, we must begin by recognising folk traditions not as decorative footnotes, but as entire ecosystems of knowledge and meaning. These are not incomplete or primitive but are whole, evolved, and deeply rooted in collective memory. This shift starts with action. It means supporting artisans directly through platforms like MeMeraki, which bring rural art to global audiences without stripping it of its soul. It means rethinking how galleries curate, ensuring traditional art is shown in its full cultural and ritual context and not just as aesthetic pieces, but as embodiments of lived experience. And it means creating space for community-led exhibitions, where the voices of the artists are heard. Folk art is resistance, identity and its pride is passed down in pigment and prayer. And preserving it doesn’t mean locking it behind glass. It means keeping it in the hands of the people who still make it alive.

    Latest Blogs