Screenwriter Ruth Jhabvala once wrote that “India often proves too strong for (western) nerves…First stage, tremendous enthusiasm. Everything Indian is marvelous. Second stage, everything Indian is not so marvelous. Third stage, everything Indian… For some people, the cycle renews itself and goes on.”
This quote is how American film director James Ivory would describe his relationship with India. Ivory’s fascination with Indian art first started with miniatures, when he went to a collector and happened to see them out since the person who was there before him wanted to see them. Something clicked; it was “like falling in love,” he later recalled in a short film. That moment shaped a big part of his life, pushing him to explore the world of Indian aesthetics, culture, and eventually, filmmaking in the country.
Ivory’s interest in India wasn’t just purely professional nor academic, but deeply personal. His passion for miniatures started as what he called a collector’s “desire and avarice,” an insatiable longing to possess beautiful things. He saw himself in the American collector, who, unburdened by financial worries, could travel freely and acquire whatever caught his eye. Ivory found himself captivated by the intricate Indian paintings and their ability to capture fleeting moments in great detail.
Indian paintings, he observed, embraced an intersection of traditions. There were grand Mughal portraits, devotional Hindu paintings, and courtly life. All of these were often painted by the same artists regardless of their religious background. Hindu painters worked for Mughal patrons, and Muslim artists created Hindu devotional imagery. Art transcends religious and cultural divisions, making it flourish in an environment where creative expression was most important. This mix of influences fascinated Ivory and reinforced his belief in the power of art in uniting people and cultures.
Up until his first film about Indian miniatures, The Sword and The Flute (1959), his fascination was with the art, rather than with India itself. Ivory’s connection with India began when he was commissioned to create that documentary film about Indian art and culture. His growing interest in India led him to meet Ismail Merchant, an Indian-born film producer. The two formed a professional and personal partnership that would last for decades.
Together, Merchant and Ivory founded Merchant and Ivory Productions in 1961, a company that soon became known for their finely crafted, literary-based films. Their early films, such as The Householder (1963) and Shakespeare Wallah (1965), offered a nuanced portrayal of India, blending together both Western and Indian perspectives. These films also marked the beginning of their collaboration with Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, who would become their primary screenwriter.
As he worked through his films, Ivory found himself moving through the stages of the cycle that Jhabvala once delineated, experiencing India’s marvels, challenges, and complexity. Whether in his documentary portraits or later narrative films set in India, Ivory’s cinematic vision was deeply shaped by the country’s culture and richness. His films, much like the miniatures he admired, sought to capture a world at an “arrested moment,” distilling beauty, history, and human emotion into a single frame.
Ranging from delicate court paintings to realism of 19th-century photography, Ink and Ivory: Indian Drawings and Photographs Selected with James Ivory offers viewers compelling explorations of South Asian art through the eyes of one of cinema’s most celebrated directors. This exhibition, on view at The Metropolitan Museum of Art until May 4th, 2025, features pieces from India and Pakistan, with the inclusion of a few Persian works, each spanning from the 16th century to the 20th.
Curated in collaboration with James Ivory himself, Ink and Ivory proves to be more than an ordinary exhibition. It is kind of like an artistic time machine, revealing the intersection between film, photography, and fine art.
Featuring everything from preparatory sketches to masterfully finished works the show captures the intricacy of royal patronage, architecture, and everyday life. Complemented by An Arrested Moment, a short film directed by Dev Benegal, the exhibition invites visitors to see India’s artistic legacy through the lens of Ivory, who is known for his deeply visual and historical sensibilities.
Stepping into the exhibit, the personalization that I read about before visiting became intensely clear. Tucked away in the South Asia section of The Met, the exhibition occupied a modest room, with an adjoining listening area with seating dedicated to show the short film mentioned earlier.
Having visited many exhibitions at The Met before, I anticipated a large, open space showcasing yet another collection of beautiful paintings. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find something far more intimate and thoughtfully curated. The room was small, but not enough to be cramped. In fact, the size created an immediate sense of closeness, and enhanced the personal nature of this exhibit with its quiet and deliberate atmosphere.
I’d recommend watching the short film first, as it adds depth to the exhibit, making the paintings and pieces even more intimate once you listen about Ivory’s closeness to Indian miniatures and experience with them. After watching the short film, the paintings made me feel like they had more meaning than just what the artists had in mind, including Ivory’s interpretation and appreciation for them. Another thoughtful touch that made the experience even more special was the mini magnifying plastics provided for visitors, allowing for a closer look at the intricate details of the paintings.
I had already seen many of the works showcased in this exhibition, as many of them were previously on display for other exhibitions, but knowing that they were hand-picked by Ivory made them all the more meaningful.
Court paintings in India and Pakistan, which are a big feature in this exhibit, flourished under royal patronage from the Mughal, Rajput, and Deccan courts between the 16th and 19th centuries. These paintings, created with meticulous detail on paper or sometimes ivory, served as visual records of courtly life, capturing grand durbars (royal assemblies), hunting expeditions, intimate palace scenes, and narratives from literature and mythology. Mughal paintings, influenced by Persian and European styles, are known for their naturalism, refined shading, and delicate portraiture, while Rajput and Deccan miniatures emphasize bold colors, stylized forms, and intricate decorative patterns. These works not only reflect the power of the rulers who commissioned them but also serve as a show of the region’s rich artistic heritage, continuing to inspire contemporary artists and collectors today.
Beyond the miniatures, the exhibition also features photographs that are part of Ivory’s personal collection. These images capture an India in transition, a country caught between its traditional past and the rapid modernization brought on by colonial rule. The juxtaposition of photography and miniature painting highlights how artistic representation evolved over time, shifting from hand-painted, highly stylized compositions to the mechanical realism of the camera. Despite their differences, however, both paintings and photographs share the same ability of capturing and preserving fleeting moments, much like Ivory’s films.
This exhibit is much more than an exhibition about Indian art, I learned. It’s an exhibition of seeing and learning through brushstrokes, camera lenses, and, most profoundly, Ivory’s eyes. For me, and undoubtedly everyone else who has witnessed its brilliance, it offers a deeply personal perspective on art, history, and storytelling.
Ink and Ivory is an invitation to step into a world of detail, histories, and timeless storytelling, one that, much like Ivory’s own journey, might just inspire visitors to embark on the cycle of discovery all their own.
Screenwriter Ruth Jhabvala once wrote that “India often proves too strong for (western) nerves…First stage, tremendous enthusiasm. Everything Indian is marvelous. Second stage, everything Indian is not so marvelous. Third stage, everything Indian… For some people, the cycle renews itself and goes on.”