John Deamond / Sources

The yantra and mandala are both visual representations of the universe, stemming form the belief structure of Tantra. It is a system of infinite fractals, where the entire universe exists in each of its aspects. The philosophy and tangible forms of Tantra are linked so closely as to often become interchangeable. The individual is the primary focus of Tantra, where she can be equated with a miniature universe. When the natural forces are harmonized, the individual becomes a recepticale for extrordinary power (Rao 24). In the words of Meena, “Yantra, tantra, and mandala bind the whole universe, and the person who knows this mechanism becomes a luminous mass of knowledge, a Tatya Gyani” (1).

As far as we know, Tantra rose as a practical discipline sometime around the 6th century CE (Rao 17). Little is actually known about the discipline, as it is traditionally passed on verbally. Any written works on Tantra are supplemental and require the explanation of a master (Rao 23). Tantra was originally a group of cults with loosely similar beliefs, largely based in the lower and criminal classes. This class base led Tantric religious practice to favor goddesses and women, as the Indian lower classes have been matriarchal since pre-Vedic days (McEvilly 91) It was a non-specific practice, traditionally seen as any symbolic wisdom passed directly form a teacher (Rao 23). The word “Tantra” is derived from the word for some sort of agricultural impliment (such as a plough or loom). Taken more broadly, a tantra can be defined as any menchanism, where the human is a replica of the universal tantra (Meena 1). Building from this idea, the yantra is a machine (Wikipedia), equated with the vehicle for carrying the tantra (Meena 1).

There are two mindsets to Tantra: that of Tantrik and that of Tatya Gyani. The power of the occult is used by both, but to different ends. The Tantrik uses this knowledge for material ends, only truly understanding the state of the body tantra (Meena 2). The Tatya Gyani, on the other hand, seeks constant growth and aspires to the universal tantra (Meena 2) through the energy harnessing ritual of Sadhna (Rao 25), which literally means “hard work.” The world today is in a Tantrik mindset, where we gather power with the purpose of using it egoistically (Meena 2). In order to change this mindset, we must be like nature, simultaneously creating and discarding imperfection in search of perfection (Meena 3).

As stated before, the yantra is a machine or tool. It is a way of conceptualizing and contextualizing Tantra, as the complex machine is a way of conceptualizing the theoretical simple machines and putting them to use. Yantra can mean either the total combination of shapes or the individual elements (Maron 2), much as the pulley and crane are both considered applications of the simple machine concept. The yantra is visually an interlocking geometric matrix that is meant to reveal the inner basis of form in the universe (Wikipedia). Practically, it is a simple and linear precursor to the more complex mandala. It is always enclosed in a protective circle or square, which protects the being energy (Rao 47). The yantra often holds Sanskrit syllables, names, and images of the gods. Eight and sixteen petal lotuses, three circles, and a square with four stupas enclose most standard yantras (Maron 2). The most basic shape in the yantra is the triangle, representing the phenomenal drop of self-awareness (bindu), the seed (bija), and the sound absolute that the split of the two creates (nada) (Rao 47-8). This energy is also represented in man as a coiled serpent, an inactive and self-contained being that has an infinite degree of potential energy (Rao 48), which Tantra hopes to harness. There are two approaches to creation of a yantra. The outward, evolutionary approach begins with the contemplation of the bindu and builds outward, while the inward, destructive approach begins with the protective elements and finishes with the bindu (Sriyantra 1).

The mandala is an evolution of the yantra (not to say that it is better, only more complex). It is favored in Lamaseries and temples over the yantra, which is most often used by lay persons. The mandala takes the idea of the yantra a step farther, saying that the bindu, or awareness-drop, is a mandala in itself (Thurman 128). Every being is a mandala, because the existence of an “I” implies that there is some sort of environment in which that “I” exists (Thurman 127). As in yantras, the mandala is not only the fully complete design, but also any circle or environmental surround (Thurman 130). The mandala carries a complex and multi-layered symbology, seeking the intricate detail of an entire universe (Thurman 129). Though it is literally a depiction of the mansion of the gods and goddesses, the mandala is representative of a state of higher being, a way of contemplating the universe as a whole (Rao 29).

The basic concept of tantra and the mandala has seen much use throughout the world. Plotinus’ teachings of neo-Platonism use similar devices for liberating the mind and seeking union between the self and the universe (McEvilly 589-90). Euclidian geometry was based in mandala-like patterns, which led Kepler in the middle ages to arrange the perfect polyhedrons within spheres to create a three dimensional mandala that was supposed to describe the planetary system (Mackay 68-70). These same patterns are seen repeated in Islamic art, Buckminster Fuller’s structures, and Bernal’s virus structure (Mackay 70-71). Probably the most well known and most pertinent contemporary use of the mandala is in Karl Jung’s psychotherapy (Noel 69). He had his patients draw mandalas, which he defined as protective circles that depicted the mental state of their maker, with a balanced mandala as a sign of a healthy psyche. This was a tap into the collective unconscious, in which the archetypes culminated in a radial pattern. The mandala was favored as a tool of analysis as it was seen as a scientific tool (Noel 75-81).

I find myself drawn to these ideas of Tantra both aesthetically and philosophically. The focus on a search for harmony parallels my way of thinking, as does the fractal idea of everything being a mandala making up a larger mandala. The basis of Tantra in physical and verbal teaching, as well as its practical (as opposed to spiritual) nature, lends it to the building of community. It seems that this philosophy would be conducive to change in our current culture, something for which I strive. Tantra’s focus on the individual would allow it to appear not too foreign, but at the same time would build an awareness of the interconnectedness of all things. Not that I am advocating a religious conversion, but an introduction of some new ideas to our way of thinking. Since I am planning on pursuing community art, this sort of ideological shift will help me to form a method of approach when dealing with the community as a whole.

The mandala and yantra designs, when simplified and translated, can be very useful to self expression. If Jung is to be believed on any level, people can readily identify with the mandala and use it as some sort of therapy. Since it is a microcosm of the universe, it can function to discuss the impact of any aspect of the universe by putting that aspect at its center. Creating a new mandala language that could be understood by a western audience would assure that any discussion takes into account universal implications. Physically, they mesh with my tendencies toward overlapping and detail as well as my skill at drafting.

Overall, I see Tantra and its associated art forms as a practical therapy for a culture that is in desperate need of a change. Even if I do not use the physicality of the yantra or mandala directly in my art, Tantric thought will influence the way that I work and live. When one moves into community art, one’s lifestyle becomes a direct part of the artmaking process.