Colleagues who visited the National Gallery of Modern Art in Bengaluru recently are exulting over the Madras Art Movement exhibition curated by Ashrafi Bhagat. I could not make it, unfortunately, and have had to listen to its high points second-hand, but can only hope it makes it to New Delhi as well, where art-lovers, viewers and writers remain snootily oblivious of the many peculiarities — and particularities — of the movement led by the artist-teacher, KCS Paniker. It is a pity that part of our regional superiority percolates down to the world of art, where one part of the country’s art is dissed by those from other centres.
In principal, art making was initially centred around the two cities of Calcutta (now Kolkata) and Bombay (now Mumbai), the former with its delicate and elegant Bengal School, the latter with the realism of the Bombay Presidency. Both early movements from the early last century were destined to fade out as the Progressive Artists’ Group took root in the mid-century, its Western language and Indian adaptation, the exuberance of a newly independent nation, and the glamorisation of art as a product tying in with its success and longevity.
But it wasn’t the only group, or collective, of significance. Even as Calcutta faded into national insignificance, the Calcutta Painters Group kept its vitality as an art centre going, even though its language turned increasingly maudlin. In Baroda, the establishment of an art school at M S University meant that a large number of potential artists from the region found an opportunity to teach and study here. Among those associated with this collective were N S Bendre, Gulam and Nilima Sheikh, Arpita Singh, as well as artists such as Jyoti Bhatt, Nasreen Mohammedi and others. This would lead, eventually, to the setting up of Group 1890 in Bhavnagar, consisting largely of Baroda artists, though it was based in New Delhi (and boasted of Octavio Paz as a mentor).
A painting by KCS Paniker, the artist-teacher who led the Madras Art Movement. Courtesy: Cholamandal Artists’ Village
The capital also became the centre of an abstract art movement that found its resonance in neo-tantra. The city’s Silpi Chakra and Sarada and Barda Ukil Centres of Art trained artists too, somewhat dogmatically in the Bengal School style, but their heart was in the right place. And in Madras (now Chennai), Paniker set up Cholamandal Artists Village in an attempt to converge art and design. That experiment was doomed not to take off, but the artists’ commune survives to the day where artists continue to live, among them Velu Viswanadhan, who splits his time between Paris and Cholamandal, as well as the maverick and utterly delightful C Douglas.
While Mumbai and New Delhi may be the principal centres of art practice (and consumption) today, it is a pity that artists and their movements outside these regions remain ignored for most part. Even those who lived overseas have remained unacknowledged to an extent — take such artists as Mohan Samant, Natvar Bhavsar, Anil Revri and Rajendra Dhawan, for instance. Aberrations have been F N Souza, S H Raza and Zarina Hashmi, while those such as Ambadas and Eric Bowen have still to find the same level of acceptance.
It is a pity that collecting in India is fraught with a lack of information and knowledge, and a beginning has been made with exhibitions such as the Madras Art Movement and its variety being chronicled by NGMA, Bengaluru. We need many more such interventions to make the task at hand one that is not merely rewarding but which adds to the discourse around so many artists whose work needs to rise above the apathy of neglect and condescension.
Kishore Singh is a Delhi-based writer and art critic. These views are personal and do not reflect those of the organisation with which he is associated