The great Graham Greene was totally wrong about many of his impressionistic prognostications in ‘Goa the Unique’, his ruminative and generally rueful cover story in The Sunday Times after visiting the recently decolonized Estado da India in 1963.
To be sure, Greene was also penetratingly insightful: “outside Goa one is aware all the time of the interminable repetition of the ramshackle, the enormous pressure of poverty, flowing, branching, extending like floodwater. This is not a question of religion.” And he correctly presaged demographic deluge, warning “you cannot hang a skull at the entrance of Goa as you can on a mango tree to avert the envious eye.”
But when he wrote about Old Goa, the otherwise clear-eyed former M16 operative read the situation entirely erroneously, basing his opinion after Christmas Eve, when “a pig running before the footlights seemed at first the only living thing up there beside ourselves. But in the cathedral there was a congregation of perhaps a dozen people sitting in a gloom the candles could not penetrate, while a choir of old canons sang the Mass – elongated, emaciated El Greco figures in dingy scarlet dickies, half starved on thirty rupees a month (a little more than two pounds in our currency), and up near the invisible roof the bats twittered as loudly as their voices.”
This is crucial: “I had the sense that I was attending one of the last ceremonies of Christianity [because] this might well be St. Peter’s 300 years hence if the door on to the world is not kept open.”
Let’s be fair. It’s still difficult to take any sophisticated reading of Goa on a short visit, and it was undoubtedly even harder back then, in the anxious first years after decolonization. More importantly, no one could have anticipated – least of all this barely-reformed colonialist Old Etonian – the concurrent political/social revolutions that have catapulted our state to the top of national rankings, and transformed India into one of the most powerful economies.
Nonetheless, it’s true Greene has been proven wrong on Catholicism in Goa, which might have lost population percentage points, but continues to flourish in both intensity and appeal, and has latterly experienced an incredible cultural efflorescence that strikes me as genuinely miraculous (in that no one could have predicted it). Amongst many highlights along the way, one of the most significant occurred on the Feast of the Annunciation on March 25th at the Museum of Christian Art (MoCA), when an unexpected panoply of riches flowed together to deliver an absolutely sublime immersive experience.
The setting is important: one edge of the gargantuan 16th century Convent of Santa Monica, where you walk through the permanent collection - now displayed even better in an extensive renovation – right into the awe-inspiring Chapel of the Weeping Cross, which has been restored by teams of experts, and is now the pride of our state. Here, one third of the soaring space contains Engraved Treasures Part II, which curator Lina Vincent tells us “continues a meaningful interaction with, and interpretation of, engravings from the 18th C Belgian Bible in the Museum collection.”
There are very good works here, from an impressively inclusive selection of artists, and I especially liked contributions from Sonia Rodrigues Sabharwal (who should now consider doing an illustrated bible), Vijay Bhandare, Clarice Vaz and Sagar Naik Mule. Another wonderful curatorial choice is expanding to performance: poetry by Pragya Bhagat, dance by Impana Kulkarni, and (on 16th April) an acoustic ‘Resurrection Resonance’ by Divesh Gadekar, and Sonia Rodrigues Sabharwal’s puppet show ‘Miracles of Christ.
Last month on the 25th, this deeply evocative environment and atmosphere came alive to full glory when Fr. Romeo Monteiro (he is Chancellor of the Archdiocese, and also Director of the department of western music at Kala Academy, spurred his 70-strong choir and “orchestra of friends” to an utterly spell-binding concert of sacred music that will live long in the memory of everyone lucky enough to be there. Twelve different compositions of the Ave Maria in Sanskrit, Latin, Aramaic, Russian, Greek and Konkani, that were sung with great style and spirit, and – most vital - sincere devotion. It makes a huge difference when the choir actually believes the words, which took this concert to another level altogether.
The historic nature of this moment was aptly summarized by Cardinal Filipe Neri Ferrão, whose distinctive scarlet zucchetto can be seen in this photo. The sixth “Prince of the Church” of Goan origin, he is the very first to represent our ancient archdiocese directly, which made his ascension in Rome last year an occasion for unbridled joy and satisfaction. His Eminence told us at MoCA that “I consider myself very fortunate to be invited, every year, to one or more concerts of sacred music…my predecessors did not have this privilege. Whether it is the Santa Cecilia Choir of the Seminary of Rachol, or the Stuti Choral Ensemble or the Vakhann’nni, a rather younger choir, directed by Fr. Simon D’Cunha, we are all regaled with excellent programmes of Sacred Music, and the housefuls or “churchfuls” that these programmes generate are proof enough that they are thoroughly appreciated.”
Here, then, is the miracle of our times that bears reflection this Paschal Triduum, because whatever Graham Greene saw and felt in 1963 is no longer true, and most of his anxieties about irreconcilability and extinguishment seem quite ridiculous in retrospect. I liked how Lina Vincent summarizes in her wall text: “Politics and conflicts of power are deeply entwined with the discussion of any evolving society. Colonisation is never a comfortable subject and yet time allows for varied cultural remnants to mingle and become richly complex…To add another layer, contemporary art has the ability to squeeze into unknown spaces and occupy grey areas to create newer and more colourful interpretations. In this beautiful mix of forms, techniques and cultural motifs, a meaningful bridge between past and present becomes apparent. And there are lessons to take away – to be human, to have compassion and care, to have hope.”