Speaking to the artist Amitava (he prefers not to use his surname) a few days ago, I was struck anew by the cerebral rigour that has shaped his practice. Interviewing him for a book some years back, I had discovered his love for philosophy and existentialism on the one hand, and of world cinema on the other. The latter appealed to him for its ability to resonate with audiences around the world, helping him understand that a forced Indianness was not the path he wanted to embrace for the creation of art. This disassociation was as important as understanding politics

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