Potrait of a German refugee who became key to India's artistic awakening

Reema Desai's book shows political cartoonist Rudolf Von Leyden championing the works of Krishnaji Howlaji Ara, M F Husain and others much before they became legendary on the international art circuit

The Catalyst: Rudolf Von Leyden and India’s Artistic Awakening

Author: Reema Desai (née Gehi)

Publisher:   Speaking Tiger

Pages: 216 

Price: Rs 799

“How does a German, part-Jewish man end up in India ahead of the Second World War and become the ‘kingpin’ of an art movement?” asks arts writer and researcher Reema Desai in her introduction to The Catalyst: Rudolf Von Leyden and India’s Artistic Awakening.

The entire book is an answer to this question. It focuses on political cartoonist Rudolf Von Leyden (1908-1983), aka Rudi, and his role as an art critic, championing the work of Krishnaji Howlaji Ara, Maqbool Fida Husain, Sayed Haider Raza and Francis Newton Souza of the Bombay Progressive Artists’ Group formed in 1947 — the year of India’s independence from British rule—much before they became legendary figures on the international art circuit.

Instead of jumping straight into Rudi’s work as an art critic committed to supporting these “audacious pioneers who rebelled against academic styles to forge a bold, new artistic vision for a nation reborn”, the author provides a glimpse of the socio-political context in Germany. She draws from Rudi’s younger brother Wolfgang’s memoir,  Growing Up Under the Weimar Republic, 1918-1933: Reflections on Personal Identity and the Past  (1984). Rudi was a member of the German Communist Party. Wolfgang was once mistaken for Rudi, and a prominent man in the Nazi hierarchy told him, “Plans are being made to shoot you.”

On the advice of older relatives, Rudi left for India in 1933 to save himself from being persecuted by the Gestapo. Apart from the fact that India was considered a safe haven for Jews who were in danger elsewhere, Bombay (now Mumbai) was also a favoured choice because Rudi’s elder brother Albrecht had been living in India since 1927 and working for a Dutch company. Albrecht was well-established, and offered to host Rudi until things got better in Germany. Little did they know that India would soon occupy a special place in Rudi’s heart.

Ms Desai notes, “Rudi lived with Albrecht in a bungalow at 17 Pali Hill, with expansive views of the Arabian sea. Albrecht worked in the bustling Fort district of Bombay and had selected Pali Hill for its cooler climate and tranquillity compared to the city centre.”

Using archival material, especially Rudi’s letters to his mother, the book paints a vivid picture of those early days in India when he went horse-riding, socialising with fellow expatriates, and swimming at Juhu beach, and also soaked in the delights of Kashmir, Delhi and Agra.

Rudi, trained as a geologist, could not find a job in that field either in India or in South Africa where he had applied. Thanks to his artistic skills and his brother’s social circle, Rudi began to find work designing advertisements, posters, invitation cards and menus. Within a year of arriving in Bombay, he set up an advertising studio and later found a job at a reputed newspaper’s layout department for six months because an English employee was on leave.

Ms Desai points out that Albrecht’s high-ranking corporate job gave Rudi access to an affluent group keen on “pushing the aesthetic dialogue in the city forward”. Rudi’s “natural flair for the arts” was encouraged and his opinion “held in high esteem” before his formal career as an art critic began in 1938. This is a telling piece of information because, even today, the hallowed world of art criticism in India remains the domain of the well-heeled.

Artist Krishen Khanna, a close friend of Rudi’s, who has written the foreword to Ms Desai’s book, reveals that Rudi was also criticised by “some who considered that he was violating Indian sensibilities and planting foreign views and aesthetic theories which were inimical to what was considered as specifically Indian”. While Krishen Khanna calls these views “insular”, and believes that they “could not accommodate Rudi’s knowledge of Indian aesthetics”, his decision to mention the critical reception that Rudi received is worthy of appreciation.

Rudi did not merely write about the rising avant-garde artists in India. He was a talent scout and mentor. He also helped some of them with financial resources. Ara was a Dalit artist. He worked as a car cleaner when Rudi first met him. That said, the politics of patronage should not be brushed under the carpet. In a quote that Ms Desai discovered during her research, Rudi confesses, “I liked the country and its people from the word go, but I now realise that my initial attitudes were very ‘sahib’, and that friendships begin when the ‘sahib’ disappears.”

The book ventures into several other aspects of Rudi’s life, including his position as the publicity and marketing director at Voltas for over two decades, his interest in Ganjifa cards, his work with stalwarts like Dr Homi Bhabha and Verghese Kurien, the women he loved, his support for Indian theatre, his fondness for the Jamali-Kamali mosque and tomb in Delhi, and his life in Paris and Vienna after he left India. Ms Desai’s commentary documenting the story of how she put together this book, how serendipity worked its magic and led her to various people and places, show that it takes a village not only to raise a child but also to birth a book.

The reviewer is a journalist, educator, book reviewer and cultural commentator. He is @chintanwriting on Instagram and X