Celebrating mothers, curating affections in art

Dear all who shared a glimpse of their mothers on Sunday,

Scrolling through an endless gallery of mothers' portraits is deeply moving. Each shared photo is not just a tribute to an individual mother, but a contribution to a wider cultural gallery. These digital feeds are a living museum - a collective exhibition of affection spanning generations and geographies, reflecting how private love intersects with enduring public traditions. These pixels on a screen are no less significant than masterpieces in the Louvre or miniatures in royal archives. They remind us of the universal archetype of motherhood in art as well as in a personal, lived reality.

In popular cultural history, the association of Mother's Day with a portrait began in 1934. The US Post Office issued a stamp of 'Whistler's Mother' for the holiday's 20th anniversary. By adding a vase of carnations, they transformed a specific painting into a universal symbol, initially titled 'Arrangement in Grey and Black No.1'. James Abbott McNeill Whistler never cared for the identity of his sitter. Nor the sentiments. He wanted the audience to focus on the composition and colour. However, the stoic figure resonated as a pillar of strength and resilience, setting the precedent for using high art to sell a feeling.

In art history, the portrait of the mother has always been a site of profound 'productive difficulty'. Albert Durer drew his mother with unflinching honesty. Lucian Freud spent decades capturing the stillness of his mother. Each sought to reconcile the identity of the 'Artist' with that of the 'Child'. In Western art, the 'Mother and Child' is perhaps the most enduring image. From Byzantine icons to Raphael's Madonnas, this motif became visual shorthand for devotion. Even in modern art, this arrangement stayed central. It explores the tension between the individual and the universal. By posting these photos, you join the same ancient lineage. You add your unique reproduction to a visual history that has long tried to capture the maternal bond.

In the Eastern tradition, the maternal portrait has often been an exercise in sacred lineage. In our region, from the delicate Mughal depictions of the 'Empress Mother' to Abanindranath Tagore's 'Bharat Mata', mothers are represented and celebrated as the keepers of both spiritual and national sovereignty. Today, when you posted photos of your mother, I witnessed a similar yet modern 'Darshan or Presence'. These snapshots are digital artworks that honour the 'productive difficulty' of motherhood. They remind us that the mother is the primary architect of our internal landscapes - one who shall be remembered and honoured.

Through these photographs, you are not only continuing a tradition but affirming how the digital age has reshaped what it means to honour mothers - connecting personal affection with a visual history. It also provides a chance to the shy ones, who are not expressive or lack the emotional vocabulary to show affection. It is also a reality that in today's world, algorithms and markets dictate what we see and how we remember. These gestures are virtual, often far from a real embrace and they reflect a reality shaped by commercialisation and algorithmic forces. Sharing a mother's portrait is often reduced to a transaction, stripped of genuine sentiment. The platforms profit from our most intimate displays. Visual literacy as civic power reminds us how even our tributes are filtered, packaged and served by systems indifferent to personal meaning.

But I would say that whether your post was a vintage black-and-white snapshot or a recent candid, you have contributed to a global archive of gratitude. You have shown that, while celebrated in art or on social media, the 'Mother' remains a deeply personal reality. Thank you for filling our screens with such grace.

A brief disclaimer: The writer is not at all against the formal celebration of Mother's Day, since she enjoys receiving flowers, gifts and wishes. However, the true value of the day for her lies in the opportunity to share her parents' wedding portrait, in which her mother stands radiant, wearing a gold tiara. RIP, Ammi. Miss you today and every day.

Yours Bano

May 2026