<p>Photography arrived in India in 1840, just a year after its invention in Europe. The first photographic studios were set up in the Presidencies of Bombay and Calcutta. </p><p>Expensive and cumbersome initially, the demand for sophisticated studios nevertheless grew with the expansion of trade and commerce. Colonel Alexander John Greenlaw (1818-1870), an officer of the British East India Company, was the first to photograph Hampi in 1856 and create a comprehensive photographic record of its ruins. His photographs captured the ancient city, which, since its plunder and destruction by the Deccan Muslim confederacy in 1565, had remained in a raw, overgrown state, frozen in time. </p><p>Following Greenlaw’s death in 1870, his negatives reportedly disappeared. Over a century later, in 1980, a retired British army officer, Eddie Gibbons, acquired around seventy waxed negatives from a descendant of Greenlaw, but was unsure of their subject matter. It was George Michell, a well-known British architect-academic and art historian, who identified the ancient negatives and linked them to the ruins of Hampi.</p>.<p>Michell, who first visited the site in 1973, had discovered that unlike most historical sites of that period, Hampi was not just another set of temples. “It’s a complete city, a royal city. It has things in it that you don’t find anywhere else, like palaces, stables, pleasure pavilions and military architecture.”</p>.<p><strong>Architectural splendour</strong></p>.<p>The Melbourne-born, London-based scholar spearheaded the Vijayanagara Research Project, an international team of researchers dedicated to documenting and interpreting the Vijayanagara ruins. He brought in Australian photographer John Gollings (1944– ) to photograph the Hampi ruins from the same perspectives as Greenlaw’s pictures. In 1983, Gollings meticulously rephotographed numerous sites that Greenlaw had documented. Over the past four decades, Gollings’ camera has captured and immortalised Hampi in thousands of images.</p>.<p>“Hampi is vast, and its monuments are an architectural splendour,” observes Gollings, whose work features in several national and international exhibitions. “Hampi has provided some of my most vivid images and experiences as a photographer and a person … Though I have been visiting Hampi regularly, I come across a new aspect each time. There is no other archaeological site like Hampi.” Declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1986, Hampi is famous as the last capital of the Vijayanagara Empire from the 14th to 16th centuries. Over 1600 surviving remains include forts, riverside features, royal complexes, temples, shrines, pillared halls, Mandapas, gateways, and watchtowers. It continues to draw a relentless stream of archaeologists, scholars, academics, artists, writers and ordinary tourists — not to forget treasure hunters.</p>.<p><strong>Poetry in stillness</strong></p>.<p>A recent addition to this ongoing fascination with the ancient city is Saibal Das’ book, ‘Hampi: The Rituals of Time’ (published by BART, New Delhi). An award-winning photographer and photojournalist, Saibal’s work has appeared in national and international publications, including Time magazine.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Saibal’s tryst with Hampi spans over a period of 10 years. In his decade-long pursuit, he has spent weeks on end in the historic city, capturing images in both favourable and tough conditions. His book on Hampi is a reflection of his long-standing passion and commitment to the project. Far from being a pretentious tourist guide or an extravagant coffee-table book, ‘Hampi: The Rituals of Time’ is Saibal’s expression of love — crafted with sincere commitment, patience, and deep understanding of the place that is both familiar and unfamiliar in diverse ways.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Saibal’s choice of black and white medium is deliberate and compelling. It sets his pictures in a sombre mood, aiming to capture the essence of an intense space. In these images, the imposing presence of ancient rocks is complemented by man-made structures such as watchtowers, stepwells, stone walls and others. Human figures are seldom included; when present, they serve to emphasise the scale of ancient structures or the mighty rocks. In the most striking images, nature plays a significant role, featuring elements like darkened skies, drifting clouds, filtering sunlight, flowing waters, and whispering winds.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The dominant theme of these photographs is one of overwhelming silence and poetic stillness. There is not a hint of celebratory noise or simulated exuberance. One can sense a deep contemplation and even a tinge of melancholy in the images. Ancient monuments are often characterised by a texture that highlights the effects of weathering and erosion. Saibal’s images are filled with such surfaces, abstracted remnants, and historical grazes.</p>.<p class="bodytext">That said, some readers may find the overall collection of photographs in the book to be excessively intense, personal, intimate, and even grim. Others might feel that a respectful but critical distance between the subject and the camera would have probably fostered an even more reflective understanding and viewing experience.</p>
<p>Photography arrived in India in 1840, just a year after its invention in Europe. The first photographic studios were set up in the Presidencies of Bombay and Calcutta. </p><p>Expensive and cumbersome initially, the demand for sophisticated studios nevertheless grew with the expansion of trade and commerce. Colonel Alexander John Greenlaw (1818-1870), an officer of the British East India Company, was the first to photograph Hampi in 1856 and create a comprehensive photographic record of its ruins. His photographs captured the ancient city, which, since its plunder and destruction by the Deccan Muslim confederacy in 1565, had remained in a raw, overgrown state, frozen in time. </p><p>Following Greenlaw’s death in 1870, his negatives reportedly disappeared. Over a century later, in 1980, a retired British army officer, Eddie Gibbons, acquired around seventy waxed negatives from a descendant of Greenlaw, but was unsure of their subject matter. It was George Michell, a well-known British architect-academic and art historian, who identified the ancient negatives and linked them to the ruins of Hampi.</p>.<p>Michell, who first visited the site in 1973, had discovered that unlike most historical sites of that period, Hampi was not just another set of temples. “It’s a complete city, a royal city. It has things in it that you don’t find anywhere else, like palaces, stables, pleasure pavilions and military architecture.”</p>.<p><strong>Architectural splendour</strong></p>.<p>The Melbourne-born, London-based scholar spearheaded the Vijayanagara Research Project, an international team of researchers dedicated to documenting and interpreting the Vijayanagara ruins. He brought in Australian photographer John Gollings (1944– ) to photograph the Hampi ruins from the same perspectives as Greenlaw’s pictures. In 1983, Gollings meticulously rephotographed numerous sites that Greenlaw had documented. Over the past four decades, Gollings’ camera has captured and immortalised Hampi in thousands of images.</p>.<p>“Hampi is vast, and its monuments are an architectural splendour,” observes Gollings, whose work features in several national and international exhibitions. “Hampi has provided some of my most vivid images and experiences as a photographer and a person … Though I have been visiting Hampi regularly, I come across a new aspect each time. There is no other archaeological site like Hampi.” Declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1986, Hampi is famous as the last capital of the Vijayanagara Empire from the 14th to 16th centuries. Over 1600 surviving remains include forts, riverside features, royal complexes, temples, shrines, pillared halls, Mandapas, gateways, and watchtowers. It continues to draw a relentless stream of archaeologists, scholars, academics, artists, writers and ordinary tourists — not to forget treasure hunters.</p>.<p><strong>Poetry in stillness</strong></p>.<p>A recent addition to this ongoing fascination with the ancient city is Saibal Das’ book, ‘Hampi: The Rituals of Time’ (published by BART, New Delhi). An award-winning photographer and photojournalist, Saibal’s work has appeared in national and international publications, including Time magazine.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Saibal’s tryst with Hampi spans over a period of 10 years. In his decade-long pursuit, he has spent weeks on end in the historic city, capturing images in both favourable and tough conditions. His book on Hampi is a reflection of his long-standing passion and commitment to the project. Far from being a pretentious tourist guide or an extravagant coffee-table book, ‘Hampi: The Rituals of Time’ is Saibal’s expression of love — crafted with sincere commitment, patience, and deep understanding of the place that is both familiar and unfamiliar in diverse ways.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Saibal’s choice of black and white medium is deliberate and compelling. It sets his pictures in a sombre mood, aiming to capture the essence of an intense space. In these images, the imposing presence of ancient rocks is complemented by man-made structures such as watchtowers, stepwells, stone walls and others. Human figures are seldom included; when present, they serve to emphasise the scale of ancient structures or the mighty rocks. In the most striking images, nature plays a significant role, featuring elements like darkened skies, drifting clouds, filtering sunlight, flowing waters, and whispering winds.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The dominant theme of these photographs is one of overwhelming silence and poetic stillness. There is not a hint of celebratory noise or simulated exuberance. One can sense a deep contemplation and even a tinge of melancholy in the images. Ancient monuments are often characterised by a texture that highlights the effects of weathering and erosion. Saibal’s images are filled with such surfaces, abstracted remnants, and historical grazes.</p>.<p class="bodytext">That said, some readers may find the overall collection of photographs in the book to be excessively intense, personal, intimate, and even grim. Others might feel that a respectful but critical distance between the subject and the camera would have probably fostered an even more reflective understanding and viewing experience.</p>