For art's sake

An exhibition of works by Jehangir Vazifdar reveals why the artist chose to never sell his paintings

It takes an audacious man to offer instructions to the pope. When Jehangir Vazifdar mailed Vatican City a portrait he had painted of Pope Paul VI, the Parsi artist also included in the letter some guidelines on how it is best viewed - without a frame (as it would "spoil the effect of freedom and movement"), and from a recommended distance of 15 to 20 feet.

"He was a rebel when it came to his art," says Phiroze, Vazifdar's son. For instance, while he occasionally parted with paintings as presents, Vazifdar, who died in 2011, chose not to sell any of his works. The JJ School of Architecture alumnus relied on his real estate business for a living and spent nearly half his time on making hundreds of paintings and thousands of sketches.

His works were exhibited time and again, but since they were never marketed, Vazifdar remained relatively unknown, Phiroze observes. Earlier in the month, the junior Vazifdar exhibited the paintings at the newly reopened Taj Art Gallery and released a coffee table book about them. The works are now displayed in his Colaba office, where his father too worked and painted. They can be viewed by appointment.

Most notably, Vazifdar's painting was included in a recent show at New York's Grey Art Gallery, alongside works by F N Souza, M F Husain and Ram Kumar. Collector Abby Grey discovered Vazifdar during her travels to Asia in the 1960s. When she expressed interest in acquiring his work, he paused for a good while before gifting it to her. The painting is among several from Grey's collection that is used for research in schools and museums.

Vazifdar's repertoire ranges from portraits to abstract works and black-and-white sketches. The most striking among these are the portraits done with an inimitable technique he developed after years of experiment. Here, colours are put directly from tubes onto appropriate places on the canvas, before being mixed with vertical and horizontal strokes to form a uniform grey background. Thick strokes are then carved by means of a foot rule until the desired image becomes apparent. Vazifdar did not always let Phiroze inside the room when he was painting, but his granddaughter Michelle was welcome. The rare portrait technique is known only to her and she plans to revive its use, says Phiroze.

More than visual appeal, Vazifdar was interested in assigning meaning to his work. He devised a colour dictionary, associating emotions with each colour - black for peace, white for death and so on. His son says the paintings he made often reflected his mood too. At times, when his housing business struggled, for instance, he took to painting darker, more grotesque forms.

An allergic reaction to oil paints in the 1970s began to worry Vazifdar and he switched to sketching. Their scale was smaller and the artist made tens of sketches each day. The overlay works - done with felt-tip pen on photos and magazine pages - seem like acts of aesthetic vandalism. The influence of Vazifdar's favourite artist, Picasso, is quite visible in these. Phiroze is toying with the idea of making lithographs available.

Vazifdar's architecture was plain, keeping in mind commercial interests, but his art reflected much experimentation. He is said to have once confided in collector Grey: "I'm continuously frustrated in my work. I cannot get building material I want and so on. But in my paintings, I am free."

The exhibition of works by Jehangir Vazifdar will be on display till April 15 at the Jehangir Vazifdar Gallery, Mumbai, by appointment only