Sunday, December 30, 2001		Article

THE sudden popularity of bright and cheerful paintings, as opposed to the so-called ‘angst-ridden and tortured art’ of yore, has thrown the community of urban Indian artists in a tizzy. Many are even asking themselves for once, why they are in the profession in the first place.

Is it merely the need to satisfy a creative urge? Or is it also to reach out and communicate with the masses? To what extent must an artist go out of the way to be understood and appreciated? What about style and skills? Or must art, like any commercial activity, be entirely market-driven to be popular?

Basic as these questions might seem, artists are actually complaining against the "tyranny" of art seekers. This breed is described typically as those who bring bits of upholstery to the gallery and match them with the paintings put up. They have the money, but their motivation is anything but aesthetic or appreciative.

But then, there are veterans like Arpana Caur who are rather understanding: "I still have people come up to me and say that they like my works, but wouldn’t buy the paintings because they find them too strong to live with. I appreciate their honesty because it is true they have to live with the painting."

Others like the young and upcoming Srinidhi Seshadri are even practical: "I don’t mind if someone buys my painting since it matches his walls. Of course, that is not how I intended it to be, but there are practical concerns people have. You cannot expect them to buy a painting bigger than their drawing room wall!"

However, it is not the size, but the kind of paintings that are being rejected by galleries these days, which most artists find worrisome. The same artists, who were booked months in advance, often before making the first stroke on canvas, have no takers now. Their signatures have no value today.

In their place, a large number of amateurs have cropped up whose only claim to fame is their ability to produce art on order. More often than not, these paintings are of bright, warm colours with waterfalls, floral landscapes, birds pecking, sailing ships... Such works are supposed to be Vaastu or Feng-Shui compliant.

"There’s no place for owls, crows, snakes, deformed figures and carnivorous animals in a painting," says Atul Marwah, a gallery owner who claims that one out of every ten visitors looks out for Vaastu art. "Five years ago temples of fortresses and ruins were really in. Today, they are considered morbid."

Amit Gupta, another gallery owner corroborates the view: "Recently we had a show of a young graduate from National School of Design, Ahmedabad. One product that sold best was the chime she designed because Feng Shui prescribes it."

Likewise, an upcoming artist, Dinesh Gupta was a rage in Delhi some time back because his abstract paintings fit very well with the Vaastu principles of bright colours. "The most important criterion for people buying art is that it should be happy and cheerful, not depressing," adds Hema Singh, an investor.

So where does this leave the maestros and established veterans?

Significantly, M.F. Husain’s Ashtami Nayak (Ganesha series), Manu Parekh’s Flower Vase series and Manjit Bawa’s Krishna series have acquired a new relevance among the Vaastu art seekers. Even their prints are selling at Rs 12,000 a piece (with the artist’s signature thrown in).

"The value of all others, whether it is Ganesh Pyne or Altaf, Paresh Maity or even Anjolie Ela Menon have crashed by 25 to 40 per cent," informs Bipin Saha, a collector in Ahmedabad. "Today the real evaluators of art are the architects, builders and of course, interior decorators."

He adds that people approach him for paintings of a sailing ship (symbolising wealth) or a pair of fish (sign of conjugal bliss) without even mentioning the name of artist. "It is as if at one stroke, all the master painters India has produced in these years, are of no consequence," he observes.

Shireen Gandhi of Mumbai’s Chemould Art Gallery says that she often tries to explain to her clients the artist’s persuasion and style of expression. "The function of contemporary art is not so much about pleasing people," she reasons. "But then, people are leading highly stressed lives and seek escapist methods. They search for art that is ‘happy’, as opposed to the ‘thought-provoking’."

Artists like Bijoy Chowdhury are content in the belief that this is only a passing phase and will no lasting impact on the art scenario: "There is no sense in resisting this trend as very soon Vaastu and Feng Shui will become passe," he explains. "The test of true art is what survives beyond the everyday whims of people!"

— MF