Instead, the musician, writer, sculpture and painter decided to return to his Santiniketan and Kerala roots and paint joyful natural and human beauty. His inspirations included the sensual female figures of the Ajanta murals, the Harappan dancing girl, the 13th century Hoysala sculptures, Kerala murals, the gypsy women of the Goudia Lohar and Bhil tribes, the bright reds, blues and yellows of Rajput miniatures and Japanese art that had influenced the Bengal School artists before him.
Unfortunately for him, “Yayati” was too sensuous, fantastical and colourful for art critics and peers, including the collector, and the huge 12-frame painting was hidden away for 18 years. It was only re-exhibited in 2002. But this time, it was seen as Ramachandran’s seminal work. He started holding a solo or joint exhibition almost every year since then and won the Padma Bhushan in 2005.
“Yayati” is as complex as it is huge. It speaks at multiple layers — myth, narrative (which is different if you start from the last piece and work backwards), the representation of men, women and nature, and even in the way the pieces are placed in the gallery.
The “Yayati” mural is based on the story in the Mahabharat of King Yayati who asked his son, Puru, to lend him his youth. He finally grew tired of unending youth after a thousand years and returned it to Puru. The 12 panels are divided into series of four depicting Ushas, Madhyanya and Sandhya, or the three stages of life. Ramachandran’s uses this myth as a metaphor to show how modern man won’t stop his constant quest for pleasure even if it means ruthlessly destroying nature.
Each series is placed in a separate section of the room so that the story can be read forwards and backwards. The palette used in Ushas is green and red. Madhyanya is done in yellow and red and Sandhya in deeper shades of red. The panels in a series also contrast with other panels (including a panel in Ushas where a mirror shows youth; the same mirror shows a skeleton in a Sandhya panel).
Fantastical landscapes, vegetation and phallic and yonic symbols fill the mural and the trees and half-animals bring to mind the creatures of Rabindranath Tagore’s paintings. Gorgeous women dominate the canvases with sensual, if artificial, poses and stare at the viewer. Men only appear in the last five panels and they look into the past or the future. Even Ramachandran, who appears as a kinnari, looks back as does the old and bent Yayati in the last frame, symbolising that man may perish but nature will persist.
You’ve reached your limit of {{free_limit}} free articles this month.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
Already subscribed? Log in
Subscribe to read the full story →
Smart Quarterly
₹900
3 Months
₹300/Month
Smart Essential
₹2,700
1 Year
₹225/Month
Super Saver
₹3,900
2 Years
₹162/Month
Renews automatically, cancel anytime
Here’s what’s included in our digital subscription plans
Exclusive premium stories online
Over 30 premium stories daily, handpicked by our editors


Complimentary Access to The New York Times
News, Games, Cooking, Audio, Wirecutter & The Athletic
Business Standard Epaper
Digital replica of our daily newspaper — with options to read, save, and share


Curated Newsletters
Insights on markets, finance, politics, tech, and more delivered to your inbox
Market Analysis & Investment Insights
In-depth market analysis & insights with access to The Smart Investor


Archives
Repository of articles and publications dating back to 1997
Ad-free Reading
Uninterrupted reading experience with no advertisements


Seamless Access Across All Devices
Access Business Standard across devices — mobile, tablet, or PC, via web or app
)