A Man For All Seasons

Dodiya has been regarded as one of Indias big artists since his first exhibition in 1985 became a sellout success. His genre of painting was called photo-realism. In a world still trying to work out the confusions of contemporary art, this was bound to be popular at least the viewer knew what was on the canvas.

But the artist is not happy with the term. I dislike photo-realism; there are connotations there of fantasy art and Boris Valejo. My work is more akin to naturalism. Colours are changed, objects are removed from the field of vision, tones are altered. Its a style he picked up from David Hockney. My admiration for him is no secret. He does things like paint everything in ultra-realism and suddenly the sky goes flat like a comic book.

 

Today he is making a conscious effort to move away from the Hockney influence. My real worry now is working in a small format. All my paintings are large, spread out. The discipline of the small canvas is something I need as a painter, one cannot begin to limit oneself by saying that space is a constraint.

He is also concerned about his attitude to bright colours. Something like pink leaves me at a loss, and there are very few bright primary colours in my compositions, despite the fact that these colours are all around us. Despite being a painter susceptible to external stimuli, why dont these colours manifest themselves in my work?

Atul enjoys talking about his work and is remarkably open to suggestions for improvement. The neighbours at the chawl where his studio is housed feel free to take a peek at a painting in progress and comment on its quality. Its something Dodiya finds hilariously stimulating. I have only one prejudice, I cant stand people without a sense of humour. I like pulling someones leg. And having mine pulled in turn.

There is ample evidence of this trait. At a recent preview in Mumbai (which will now officially be shown in Calcuttas CIMA gallery from 22 February to 9 March), Atul indulged in some naughty legpulling. Bhupen Khakkar, one of Dodiyas idols, had written some exceedingly frank comments about his work in a letter to a common friend. Dodiya got the original Gujarati letter translated into English, wrote out a response and waited for Khakkars riposte. Then he had the entire correspondence printed in the catalogue for the exhibition! Considering that the senior artist had pulled no punches at all, this was chutzpah of a high order.

In his letter, Khakkar says that Atul runs away from innovations in art, steers clear of depictions of sex, does not play around with colours, has a limited canvas where subjects are concerned... He concludes: Is Atul a weak-kneed painter?

Dodiya carried it in toto, only pausing to mildly observe that lusty couples in the throes of a pulsating embrace belong to a certain monopolized domain. Why eff around with someone elses monopoly? Then he laughs, a titanic, silent convulsion that he seeks to control by wringing his hands.

This mirth attains poignancy when one realizes that the painter lives with the knowledge that his right eye could give out on him any time. Dodiya had worked it into one of his most powerful paintings which shows a blurred-wet Mumbai scene, as he saw it through his myopic eye. He called it No Fresh Lesions. Then his irrepressible sense of fun came to the fore he signed it A.D., painted on in the style of Albrecht Durer.

His paintings are always about the intensely familiar and comfortable aspects of his life. The family, for instance, keeps appearing, whether it is his father who has become an unintended omnipresent leitmotif, or his sister, whose courage in battling cancer he has come to greatly admire. Dodiya says a painting stays with him for about three years before it emerges on the canvas. Its a curious time lag he has accepted as part of his style.

Films are a less known source of inspiration for the artist. Dodiya believes that the visual mastery of the old black and white films is still unparalleled. Satyajit Ray has remained his favourite film maker since he saw Nayak as a young teenager. It was the first time I was moved deeply by a film. I also admire Tarkovsky and Kurosawa. In my phase of early naturalism I would say that Ray and his handling of the human element was to have a great influence on me.

Dodiya is keenly aware of the fact that the visual arts survives on the English language and a vocabulary borrowed from the Western world. What do you make of terms like ativastavvad or amurtabhivaktivaad. They refer to surrealism and abstract expressionism. Its unfortunate that we dont have the French attitude of finding a local equivalent for a term, he rues.

As for me I am a Kathiawadi Gujarati and that is the culture I am most comfortable with. Still, I married a Sindhi so no one can blame me for being parochial, he says.

Dodiya sees a kind of cultural bankruptcy in this penchant for borrowing. If you look at the quality of most of the vernacular media, the language used and themes covered are wanting in many respects. Gujaratis, for instance, would be considered idiots if judged solely on the strength of some of their newspapers.

The otherwise outspoken artist is reluctant to talk about the contemporary art scene. He is only comfortable with some general observations. An artist ought not to allow himself to be labelled. And he should not feel reluctant to talk about his work. He must not feel inhibited to explain, or else the viewer will hasten to find his own story there and impose it upon your work, says Dodiya.

As he points out, in the post modern phase when everything tends to be so miscible, there can be no real rules. There is an information-overload all round. Given this, what is asked of a work of art is not that it conform to anything but that it hold you and make you experience new emotions uninhibited by conditioning.

Somehow a lot of Mahatma Gandhi is beginning to emerge in my work. I am observing it with interest. The autobiographical elements will never desert my paintings; I am not one of those people who want to solve the Big Questions of Life. In the future there will possibly be a series on Swami Vivekananda my family and I are afreen about him.

Afreen is a state of admiring love that cannot be topped. As a description of the way he approaches his themes it isnt far off. Considering that when I was in Paris a few years ago I felt convinced there was nothing left to be done in art, this phase is a surprise. What amazing times we live in, when the heritage of the whole world is part of everybodys consciousness. Its a great time to be an artist, a time when a Mona Lisa or a Picasso are no longer culture specific, says Dodiya.

What about his works? I am functioning at multiple levels in my works now. The viewer sees what is not real, yet it seems to be real. Its great fun. Its not just another job. n

Rohit Pillai in conversation with Atul Dodiya, whose facility with the brush is only matched by his flair for the scalpel.