Anatomy Of A Rebellion

If you've been attentively following the work of an artist, then you come to associate some definitive forms and stylistic devices with him or her, although these might gradually change through various periods of evolution. Fleshy, female nudes : it's a mnemonic that at once throws to mind the name of Delhi based painter, Vasundhara Tiwari, who for nearly 20 years has been exploring the subject. She's not the only one who has done such work, yet, her intensive exploration of what the female form could mean for her and through her, has continuously reinforced this popular linkage.

"I've never tried to say anything in my paintings, a cereberal view point is never enough," Vasundhara suggests, "but ever since I can remember, I have been doing the figure." A student of literature, Vasundhara's earliest models were her sister, then 20, and her grandmother. Wasn't her sister embarrassed? "I guess there is an element of flattery in posing. Besides, she would fall off to sleep," she shrugs.

 

When her father first saw her paintings, he gently suggested she try her hand at horses and animals. But her paintings originated from a much more intense, dark experience. They could have been nothing else. "Being a woman is quite repressive. You can't do this, you have to be that.. much more than for a boy of the same age. I have never wanted to play a role." Vasundhara recalls. The forbidden female nude was an act of rebellion within a space which was simultaneously all hers (painting) and totally public (when exhibited). "I was very possessive about my painting. No one could ever tell me what to do or not do," she declares. "I wouldn't go and strip on the road, but I could challenge these notions in my work, and lots of women related to my work."

In these earlier works, mostly on paper, the body seemed glowing and suspended. That changed, and her figure slowly began to acquire `volume', a fullness. This conscious transition began with a change to oils, and less realistic bodies _ solid forms, bodies without being bodies themselves. When she returned to paper two years later, the volume was roundly present. "I have never wanted the body to be any body. I want it to say something from me. My aspirations should inform it."

Her shows in the early '80s were widely noticed, yet unconventional. Was it perhaps the self-taught painter rebelling equally against the limits of acceptable art ? Her current paintings, often acrylic sheets and paper overlapping, now contain clothed female figures. "My apprehension is less, I'm less scared of being myself," she says pensively. "I'm just more relaxed about the figure."

Vasundhara's work is about her own fierce sense of independence, in a specific middle class North Indian context in the '70s and '80s. She agrees that in another part of the world, this work could have been misinterpreted. But regardless of cultural specificity, one thing she is sure of : "It is important that women paint women's bodies so you have different bodies to see. You should see it from a woman's point of view, whatever that may be."