Ajanta and the Classical Tradition of Indian Painting

by Benoy K. Behl
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Below is the transcript of an online lecture given at the event 'Ajanta and Modern Asian Art'. It has been lightly edited for readability.

It is a great pleasure to be with all of you to discuss this fascinating and important subject. My sincere thanks to all of you for the effort you have taken to bring this occasion together. I would also like to thank my wife, Sujata Chatterji, whose support makes possible much of the work that I do.

In 1990, the Director General of the Archaeological Survey of India saw a series of photographs I had taken of Indian monuments using a technique that I had developed for photographing in extremely low light—almost in darkness. When he saw these photographs, he spoke to me about the paintings of Ajanta. He pointed out that these paintings are among the most important artistic achievements of India. They are widely recognized as the fountainhead of the classical tradition of painting in Asia and of the Buddhist painting tradition that spread across the continent.

Yet, despite their importance, the paintings had never been clearly seen. The caves are dark, strong artificial lighting is not permitted, and visitors often struggle to appreciate the paintings in detail. The Director General suggested that perhaps my photographic technique could make it possible to capture their beauty and grace in a way that had not previously been achieved.

In 1991, I spent many weeks in the Ajanta caves carefully photographing the murals. The response to the resulting images was extraordinary. Many people remarked that the colours of Ajanta had never before been seen so clearly. Soon afterwards, I was invited to speak about Ajanta and present these photographs at institutions including the British Museum, the Victoria and Albert Museum, the University of London, the Smithsonian Institution, the Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music, and many other major museums and universities around the world.

The response of leading art historians and critics was unanimous. Many felt that the paintings of Ajanta represented some of the finest artistic achievements of humankind. They pointed out that the paintings displayed extraordinary technical sophistication. Qualities that appeared in Western art only centuries later—during the Renaissance and beyond—could already be found in these fifth-century paintings. Some observers noted features comparable to developments associated with Impressionism, Expressionism, and even aspects of modern art. The technical accomplishments alone were remarkable.

Yet what makes these paintings truly important is not merely their technical brilliance. Their enduring significance lies in the vision of life that they embody. The worldview expressed in the paintings sees a fundamental unity in all existence. Human beings, animals, birds, trees, flowers, and every living thing are understood as part of a larger whole. This vision imparts a profound sense of compassion to every line drawn by the painter. Every brushstroke is infused with an understanding of interconnectedness and a deep sympathy for all forms of life. It is this compassionate vision that makes the paintings not only beautiful but also among the most important works in the artistic heritage of the world.

The Continuity of Indian Painting

Towards the end of 1991, I photographed the tenth-century paintings of the Brihadisvara Temple at Thanjavur. The response of scholars was equally significant. Among those who commented on the work was Dr. Milo Beach, one of America's leading scholars of Indian painting, who later wrote the preface to my book on Ajanta. He remarked that he would have to revise his understanding of Indian painting.

When I asked him why, he explained that although Ajanta was well known, scholars had often regarded it as an isolated artistic phenomenon—a brilliant but singular achievement. Paintings preceding Ajanta were not widely known, nor were paintings from many centuries after Ajanta. However, the tenth-century paintings of Thanjavur demonstrated the same artistic sophistication and technical mastery found at Ajanta.

This suggested that Indian painting had not appeared suddenly and then disappeared. Rather, it was part of a continuous and living artistic tradition. In the years that followed, I had the good fortune to photograph paintings from the fifth through the thirteenth centuries. Through this work, it became increasingly clear that India possessed a continuous and highly developed tradition of painting extending from ancient times through the medieval period.

Ajanta and Its Influence Across Asia

The fame of Ajanta was never confined to India. Across Asia, the paintings were admired and revered. Artists from countries such as Japan and Sri Lanka spent considerable time at Ajanta studying the murals and attempting to reproduce them. The British administration also recognized the importance of the paintings. During the nineteenth century, several attempts were made to create painted reproductions of the murals.

These efforts were monumental undertakings requiring years of labour. The reproductions were eventually displayed at the Crystal Palace in Sydenham, England. Tragically, the exhibition was destroyed by fire. I possess a newspaper clipping from 1876 describing how, in 1872, the British government sanctioned an enormous sum of money—equivalent today to many crores of rupees—to produce reproductions of the Ajanta paintings. The copies were completed and displayed at the Crystal Palace, only to be lost when the exhibition caught fire.

When I later lectured in London and presented the Ajanta photographs, a joke circulated among audiences regarding which institution—the British Museum or the Victoria and Albert Museum—might catch fire next. Yet behind the humour lay a serious truth: throughout the world, these paintings have always been regarded as works of extraordinary importance.

Following the destruction of the earlier reproductions, the British government commissioned Lady Christiana Herringham in the early twentieth century to create a new series of copies. She travelled to Ajanta with a group of assistants from Calcutta, among whom were Nandalal Bose and other young artists associated with what would later become the Bengal School.

These students had largely been educated in the British academic style and had often been taught that India possessed no great tradition of painting. Their encounter with Ajanta transformed their understanding. Faced with the splendour of the murals, they realized that India had in fact produced one of the world's great artistic traditions. When they returned to Calcutta, this discovery helped inspire the Bengal School and a broader revival of Indian artistic traditions.

Ajanta's influence extended beyond India as well. Solias Mendis, one of Sri Lanka's great mural painters, studied Ajanta before returning home to create magnificent Buddhist murals. George Keyt, often regarded as Sri Lanka's greatest modern painter, was also deeply influenced by Ajanta as well as by the later manuscript painting traditions of eastern India. Every artist who encountered these paintings was profoundly moved by them. Words often seemed inadequate to describe their qualities.

Indian Philosophy of Aesthetics and the True Colours of Ajanta

To understand the significance of Ajanta, one must also understand the philosophy of aesthetics that developed in India at a very early period. According to this tradition, the experience of beauty—whether encountered in nature through a sunrise or in art through a painting—is closely related to Brahmananda, the ultimate bliss associated with spiritual realization. In moments of profound aesthetic experience, the veils of maya, or illusion, are believed to fall away. One perceives, however briefly, the underlying grace that sustains existence.

This understanding explains the importance accorded to art in Indian civilization. Art was not regarded merely as decoration or entertainment. It was considered a means of approaching deeper truths. The grace that underlies reality is made visible through artistic expression, and nowhere is this more evident than in the paintings of Ajanta.

Before these photographs were taken, the paintings were usually viewed under dim orange lighting. Because only low-voltage illumination could be used within the caves, visitors saw the murals under conditions that distorted their colours. The blues and greens, in particular, were largely lost beneath the orange cast of the available lighting. By photographing under extremely low-light conditions and employing a specialized technique, it became possible to reveal the paintings much closer to their original appearance. For the first time, viewers could appreciate the full richness of the colour palette.

Another challenge was graffiti. By the early twentieth century, many of the paintings had been heavily marked by visitors. Some murals were so covered with graffiti that their original forms were difficult to discern. Approximately twenty years ago, I undertook careful digital restoration of certain images, removing graffiti while altering the original paintings as little as possible. This allowed viewers to see the artworks with much greater clarity.

One striking example comes from Cave 10, where paintings dating to the second century BCE survive. These are among the earliest surviving examples of the classical Indian painting tradition and are therefore of immense importance to world art history. When viewed clearly, these paintings reveal astonishing sophistication. One notices subtle exchanges of glances between figures, remarkable emotional depth, and a dancing girl whose inward-looking expression anticipates one of the defining characteristics of later Indian art.

Already, in this early period, we encounter that contemplative inward gaze that would become a hallmark of the great artistic traditions of India and much of Asia. These paintings represent the beginnings of an idealized artistic vision whose later flowering can be seen at Ajanta.

A Continuous Tradition

When one considers Ajanta, Pitalkhora, Bagh, Badami, and the many other sites scattered across the subcontinent, a larger picture begins to emerge. For a long time, scholars often viewed Ajanta as an isolated achievement—a brilliant but singular flowering of artistic genius. Yet the evidence now points in a different direction.

The paintings of India reveal a continuous tradition extending over many centuries. Techniques evolved, styles changed, and religious contexts varied, but certain fundamental qualities remained remarkably consistent. One finds throughout these traditions a concern with inner life rather than external display, a profound sensitivity to emotion, a compassionate vision of existence, and a commitment to portraying the interconnectedness of all living beings.

These qualities are not confined to a single site or a single period. They constitute a shared artistic inheritance. What ultimately distinguishes this tradition is not simply technical skill, impressive though that skill undoubtedly is.

The painters possessed a sophisticated understanding of form, colour, movement, perspective, and emotional expression. Their achievements compare favourably with the finest artistic traditions anywhere in the world. Yet the deeper significance of the paintings lies elsewhere.

Again and again, they direct our attention toward an inner reality. Whether one looks at Padmapani lost in contemplation, Mahajanaka listening humbly to a hermit, Princess Maddi choosing loyalty and sacrifice, or even the patient buffalo of the Mahisha Jataka, one encounters a vision of life grounded in compassion and self-understanding.

The world portrayed in these paintings is not divided sharply between human beings and animals, rulers and subjects, or the powerful and the weak. Instead, all forms of life participate in a shared moral and spiritual universe. This vision profoundly shaped the artistic traditions that spread from India across Asia.

Indian theories of aesthetics regarded art as much more than visual pleasure. The experience of beauty was understood as a glimpse of a deeper reality. In moments of genuine aesthetic experience, one moves beyond the distractions and illusions of ordinary life and encounters something more fundamental.

This is why art occupied such an important place in Indian civilization. A great work of art was not merely an object to be admired. It was an invitation to reflection, contemplation, and self-discovery. The finest paintings of Ajanta continue to perform this function today. More than fifteen hundred years after they were created, they still possess the power to quiet the mind, awaken compassion, and inspire wonder.

Conclusion

The paintings of Ajanta stand among the greatest achievements of world art. Their technical mastery, emotional depth, and spiritual insight have inspired artists, scholars, and viewers across generations and across continents.

Yet they are not isolated masterpieces. They form part of a larger and continuous tradition of Indian painting that stretches across centuries and encompasses sites such as Pitalkhora, Bagh, Badami, and many others. What unites these works is a shared vision—a vision of compassion, harmony, and interconnectedness. It is a vision that sees all beings as part of a larger whole and that invites us to look beyond appearances toward deeper truths.
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Perhaps that is why these paintings continue to speak to us so powerfully today. They remind us not only of the artistic achievements of the past but also of enduring possibilities within human experience itself: humility, understanding, beauty, and compassion. These are the qualities that give Ajanta its lasting significance, and they are the reasons why these paintings remain among humanity's greatest cultural treasures.

Benoy K Behl is a film-maker, art-historian and photographer who is known for his tireless and prolific output of work over the past 49 years. He has taken over 53,000 photographs of Asian monuments and art heritage and made 146 documentaries which are regularly screened at major cultural institutions worldwide. His photographic exhibitions have been warmly received in 74 countries around the world. These have been inaugurated by ministers of the governments of various countries, ambassadors, archbishops, HH the Dalai
Lama and others dignitaries. From 2001 till 2020 (when the last Lima Book of Records was published) he has held the Limca Book Record for being the most travelled photographer and art historian.

His films, including 26 documentaries on ‘The Paintings of India’, 26 documentaries on ‘The Sculpture of India’ and 26 documentaries on ‘Spectacular India’ have been nationally telecast on prime time in India, as well as repeat telecasts. These have also been screened at scores of universities and museums in several countries around the world.​