Fractured Geometry: Lasting Legacies of Colonialism through the Displacement of Hindu Temples (Part 1)

• Post Date: 4/7/2025
• Author: Illakkia Ranjani, registration assistant
• Reading Time: 12 minute read

• Exhibits tag
• In-Depth tag

This project highlights the religious symbolism behind Hindu temple architecture, which featured designs resembling fractal geometry centuries before the development of fractal theory. Through a collection of six architectural fragments from Hindu temples and chariots, the fracturing effects of colonialism are explored.

Fractal Geometry

Hindu temples are known for their intricate and repetitive architecture, featuring dynamic carvings of deities and animals in varying sizes. The temples can be compared to three-dimensional fractals: never-ending, complex patterns of a shape in different scales. Fractal-like structures appear in nature as trees, clouds, and snowflakes. Hindu temples have featured designs resembling fractal geometry centuries before the development of fractal theory.

There is a mathematical wonder to this architecture, an awe-inspiring repetitive unity of fractal geometry that beautifully communicates central themes of Hinduism like reincarnation and connection to the universe. As each fractal is repeated, it becomes an iteration of the larger image; just as when a person is born and reborn, they both become and maintain harmony with the Cosmos.

What happens if this harmony is disrupted?

The six carvings in the Fractured Geometry series are no longer in harmony with the Hindu spaces they belong to. Over time, the forces of colonialism removed them from their original contexts—their temples and chariots—eroding their meanings, purposes, and identities. Housed at the Spurlock Museum, these objects no longer embody the sacred unity of fractal geometry and are forced to take on a new identity; one of fractured geometry.

This new identity is a direct result of the physical and interpretational distance between the Spurlock and the original homes of these artifacts. Reduced to fragments, the legacy of colonialism has permanently marked these objects.

Colonial Contortion

The displacement of cultural materials illustrates how colonialism can act as a physical force, but colonialism in and of itself, like a fractal, is multitudinous. For one, the lasting legacies of colonialism can contort history.

The English word “juggernaut,” meaning a merciless and unstoppable force, is both an example and description of colonialism’s role in the displacement of cultural materials. The word is a misinterpretation of the Hindu deity Jagannath, famously worshiped in Puri, India. Each June, Puri, like many cities throughout South and Southeast Asia, celebrates the Ratha Yatra festival, a colorful, melodious extravaganza filled with music, dancing, and performance. Idols of Hindu deities are brought out of their temples and paraded around town in a chariot procession, blessing those unable to visit the temples in person. When English spectators first encountered Puri’s Ratha Yatra in 1806, they saw it as an obscene ritual, dubbing Jagannath as the “High Priest of Infamy,” whose worshippers willingly crushed themselves to death under his chariot. When the true story of Jagannath and his lively festival eventually made its way into the world, it was too late. The twisted meaning associated with the deity, now misspelled “Juggernaut,” had already transformed into the ubiquitous, lowercase colonialist contortion: “juggernaut.”

These colonialist contortions have never fully disappeared, in fact, some exist here at the Spurlock Museum. The wooden drummer and puppeteer carvings in our collection were originally misidentified as “temple dancers,” perhaps because they stand in dynamic poses that suggest movement.

The drummer’s foot position, called sucī, is actually a common feature in South Indian dance, with the right foot resting on the big toe with raised heels while the left foot remains natural.

However, these figures are not dancers, as they are primarily engaged in drumming and puppeteering, not dance. Additionally, these figures are carved from wood. In order to be temple dancers, these carvings must originate from a temple, and temples are made from stone. Through our incorrect identification, we at the Spurlock Museum have inherently twisted the meaning of these carvings, contributing to a colonialist fracture of meaning.

This fracture of meaning is what led to the misidentification of these pieces in the first place. Carvings in both temple and chariot architecture serve symbolic purposes. This symbolism varies throughout South and Southeast Asia, as Hindu stories differ from region to region. In some regions certain Hindu deities are worshipped alongside their animal companions, called vahanas. For example, Madurai—a city in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu—worships the goddess Meenakshi and her parrot vahana. The parrot is associated with another goddess, Kamakshi, worshipped in Kanchipuram, Tamil Nadu. In general, the parrot is also associated with love, storytelling, and teaching. If the parrot appears in Hindu temple architecture, depending on the temple’s specific region, it could represent either of these Tamil Nadu goddesses or one of the broader associations. Thus, the origins of Hindu architecture are crucial to understanding their symbolism. When the six pieces in the Fractured Geometry series were removed from their original contexts and brought here, crucial information on their origins was altered or lost. Due to this fragmented information, we at the Spurlock museum inadvertently create offshoots of several informational fractals, each representing a different interpretation of an artifact.

One possible interpretation of these carvings is that they come from a Ratha Yatra chariot, as music and puppetry are common to the festival. Existing research suggests that these pieces may come from Andhra Pradesh, a state in South India. In this state, puppet theatre, or bommalatam, is an important tradition used to tell famous Hindu stories like the Ramayana and Mahabharata. For a Ratha Yatra festival in Andhra Pradesh, one puppeteer constructed seven-foot tall puppets to communicate these stories to illiterate children.

One of his puppets depicts the deity Garuda who spends eternity fighting snakelike Nagas in some stories and wears the Nagas as jewelry in other stories. Notice that the puppet in the puppeteer carving appears to hold a serpentine figure around their neck–this could be a puppet depicting Garuda and Naga. Garuda and Naga carvings at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and the Cleveland Museum of Art appear in a similar manner.

It is possible that this puppeteer is communicating a story related to these Hindu figures. However, this interpretation is an informational fractal that has the potential to be incorrect. Because we lack crucial information on this artifact’s origins, this informational fractal could be a misinterpretation of the puppeteer’s true symbolism. Colonial fractures of meaning manifest in many different ways, but each manifestation slowly chips away at the rich narratives behind Hindu festivals and customs.