Virginie Olivier, Charlotte Schmid, Edmond de Taillac
I felt the time had come to collect all such mutilated and neglected pieces of art in stone and bronze and house them in a safe place in a palace at Tanjore [Thanjavur] in order to protect and preserve the remnants of our artistic inheritance from the ravages of time and the hands alike of the irreverent vandal and the unscrupulous pedlar in art-ware
T. K. Palaniappan 1982 (1953)
In 1951, a Chola dynasty museum, the “Thanjavur Art Gallery and Museum,” was born in the heart of the Tamil country, out of a striking statue spotted in a suburb of the city (Fig. 1). The size and refinement of this four-faced, four-armed god statue suggested a glorious past that was romanticized in the story of its discovery. The statue, which stopped being worshipped under unknown circumstances, was rescued from a canal in which the Kaveri river flowed; the valley of the latter defined the territory of the most famous dynasty of the Tamil country, the Cholas, in whose honor the museum was created. This representation of a rather peculiar deity was thus spared exile and became a catalyst for a museum offering neglected or stolen works of art the chance of a new life, as suggested by R. Davis (2018).
When the statue’s rediscovery sparked the interest of the North Indian Calcutta museum, local resistance prompted the then District Collector, T. K. Palaniappan, to propose a Thanjavur museum for housing high-quality, abandoned works of such type. Both the account of the discovery and local advocacy played a key role in instigating the creation of a museum around a statue that remains enigmatic even today and retains its unique aura.
The statue stands today at the centre of the Thanjavur Art Gallery and Museum’s central hall (Fig. 1), and is surrounded by 9th-13th century Chola sculptures. The label of the museum identifies it as “Brahma (the creator with four faces);” its faces turned in the four cardinal directions are actually apt to mark the birth of a place, and to symbolise the splendour of Chola art. However the scattering, since 1926, of pieces with the same iconography and workmanship, all from Thanjavur’s vicinity, have imbued this statue with emblematic significance far beyond its physical attributes (Figs. 2-5). The history of those pieces reveals complex dynamics, which combine colonial and post-colonial ties with the West, regional tensions within the young Indian nation, and the role of a French “comptoir,” namely Pondicherry, in amplifying the statue’s value. The latter clearly derived from the financial and symbolic prestige that translocation, as defined by Bénédicte Savoy (2024, p. 11-12), has conferred on the members of the group to which it belongs, a set of ten statues identified so far.

This group of ten from Thanjavur, carved from the same granite, exhibits a unique 9th-10th century style and iconography (Figs. 1–5). The four-headed, four-armed god sits on a lotus-throne, holding a lotus and rosary, with one hand in a fearlessness gesture and the other resting on his thigh. While the attributes suggest Brahmā, a third eye on the multiple foreheads of the statue is characteristic of Śiva (Fig. 2). Its presence raises identification questions, leading us to refer to these statues as Brahmā-Śiva.

This iconographic ambiguity has captivated Western audiences, reinforcing stereotypes of Eastern mysticism. Today, only five of the original group remain in India. Two are in Thanjavur: one in the Thanjavur Art Gallery and Museum (Fig. 1) and another in front of the District Collector’s colonial building (Fig. 2), originating from nearby Kaṇṭiyūr. A third Brahmā-Śiva is worshipped in Kaṇṭiyūr (Fig. 3), while a fourth stands in Centalai’s temple courtyard, one more settlement close to Thanjavur. The fifth, acquired by the National Museum in New Delhi in 1969, has an unclear provenance, but curator C. Sivaramamurti likely played a role in its transfer, given his earlier attempt to claim a similar statue for Calcutta’s museum.

The New Delhi Brahmā-Śiva reflects C. Sivaramamurti’s ongoing fascination with these statues, likely stimulated by Western interest. As curator of India’s pioneering museums in Madras and Calcutta, which were opened during the colonial period, and as director of the National Museum in New Delhi established after independence, Sivaramamurti would have known that five similar statues had been acquired by Western museums starting as early as 1926.
That very year, two sculptures were exported from India through a partnership between Gabriel Jouveau-Dubreuil (1885–1945), a French archaeologist living in Pondicherry and relying on a local Indian network based on his former students at the Colonial College in Pondicherry, as recently demonstrated by Edmond de Taillac, and Ching Tsai Loo (1880–1957), a Chinese art dealer based in Paris and New York. They collaborated with Joseph Hackin (1886–1941), a curator at the Musée Guimet, in a venture that blurred the lines between scientific research, colonial plunder, and exotic art trade – ensuing transactions were neither fully licit, nor completely illicit. This trio played a significant role in cultivating Western interest in Indian art, with Jouveau-Dubreuil becoming Loo’s acquisition agent for “des pièces (…) tout à fait exceptionnelles” (absolutely exceptional pieces) in 1924 (Letter from C. T. Loo to G. Jouveau-Dubreuil, dated July 9, 1924).
In the following years, the collaboration between Jouveau-Dubreuil, Hackin, and Loo led to a significant buildup of Indian art collections at the Musée Guimet and in the West, particularly in the United States, where the Chinese dealer operated a branch since 1915. Jouveau-Dubreuil would regularly ship sculptures from India to Paris, where Hackin would select pieces for the Musée Guimet or receive commissions of approximately one-third of revenues. C. T. Loo sold the other pieces to collectors and museums in the West.
In the second half of 1926, a batch including two Brahmā-Śiva reached Paris. “Nous avons eu successivement une épidémie de mères – puis une épidémie de Sivas à 4 têtes,” (we successively got an epidemic of mothers, followed by one of four-headed Sivas) writes G. Jouveau-Dubreuil to J. Hackin and C. T. Loo, on January 4, 1928.
None of the four-headed statues was selected for Guimet; and the pair of Brahmā-Śiva continued their journey to the United States, where the Albright-Knox Art Gallery in Buffalo, New York (Fig. 5), and the Metropolitan Museum of Art acquired them in 1927. The Detroit Institute of Arts bought a third Brahmā-Śiva in 1928. Mrs John D. Rockfeller donated a fourth one to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston in 1942 (Fig. 4) ; the Worcester Art Museum bought a fifth from a New York Asian art dealer in 1964. The Brahmā-Śiva that can be admired today at the Cleveland Museum of Art (Fig. 5) illustrates how these sculptures’ westward journey from the Chola capital had dramatically increased their value—if only in financial terms. This is the statue initially acquired by the Buffalo Museum. It was auctioned in 2007 for $4 million-plus dollars, a price rarely attained by any Indian sculpture.


The Brahmā-Śiva who welcomes the visitor in the Thanjavur Art Gallery showcases the Chola dynasty’s global reach far beyond its native land. In the 1930s, the great historian K. A. Nilakanta Sastri, writing a history of the Cholas, emphasised the colonisation of South-East Asia, which the dynasty claimed to have instigated. Faced with a British colonising power, he highlighted the Indian colonial impact on the area. Thanks to him, but also thanks to the translocation of Chola statues, facilitated by more or less conscious or willing agents like Gabriel Jouveau-Dubreuil, “corsaire archéologique pour la France,” (archaeological raider for France) as the man characterised himself in a letter to Joseph Hackin dated May 28, 1931, and with the help of a well-organised Indian network, the art dealer C. T. Loo, museum curators and private collectors, galleries and auction houses, Chola art’s reputation spread worldwide. The translocation of the Brahmā-Śiva has, in turn, heightened awareness and appreciation of a unique heritage.
Sources
Archives du musée national des arts asiatiques-Guimet:
Gabriel Jouveau-Dubreuil, Correspondance 1926, 1927, 1928, file Gabriel Jouveau-Dubreuil.
Photographic archives, box titled: “Inde du Sud,”” Inde du Centre,” “Sculptures isolées.”
Références
Richard H. Davis, “New lives for Returned Images: The Family of Icons from Sripuranthan,” Marg 69, 2018, no. 3, p. 64–77.
Virginie Olivier, « Les Brahmā-Śiva de la région de Tanjore : un syncrétisme singulier aux origines inexpliquées », Arts Asiatiques 75, 2020, p. 5–26.
T. K. Palaniappan, “A Year of Progress,” in The Divine Bronzes. The Thanjavur Art Gallery Bronze Sculptures, S. Rathnasabapathy (ed.), Thanjavur: Thanjavur Art Gallery Administration, 1982.
Bénédicte Savoy, À qui appartient la beauté, Paris : La Découverte, 2024..




