Search results for: 'about wash technique in painting in india'

Do we view things differently as we grow older? What are the perspectives that matter most when viewing art? Do we see things differently as men and women? Do we see art differently as men and women? How does one’s gender impact the creation of art? In the months leading up to ‘Ways of Seeing’, these were some of the questions we posed to ourselves, and we wish we could say that we found a generic, universal response, for there are as many standpoints and views as there are viewers and people. Amrita Sher-Gil Anjolie Ela Menon Anupam Sud Arpana Caur B. Prabha Devayani Krishna Elizabeth Brunner Gogi Saroj Pal Jaya Ganguly Kanchan Chander Kavita Nayar Latika Katt Madhvi Parekh Mrinalini Mukherjee Nalini Malani Navjot Nilima Sheikh Rekha Rodwittiya Shobha Broota Sunayani Devi Vasundhara Tewari Broota Zarina Hashmi Akbar Padamsee Avinash Chandra B. C. Sanyal Baburao Painter Bikash Bhattacharjee D. P. Roy Chowdhury Dharamanarayan Dasgupta Dhruva Mistry F. N. Souza G. R. Santosh Ganesh Pyne George Keyt Haren Das Jagadish Dey Jamini Roy Jogen Chowdhury Jyoti Bhatt K. H. Ara K. S. Kulkarni Khagen Roy Krishen Khanna M. F. Husain M. Suriyamoorthy M. V. Dhurandhar Nandalal Bose P. T. Reddy Prokash Karmakar Sakti Burman Satish Sinha Sudhir Khastgir Sunil Das V. Nageshkar

Prabhakar Barwe’s Eighty-Five Safety Pins is a pioneering work that merges technology and traditional art. Created in 1991 using graphic design software on an Apple Macintosh, Barwe explored the concept of pixels, a hallmark of the digital era, while incorporating his signature enamel paint. This innovative approach reflects his curiosity about embracing the unknown future and reinterpreting it artistically. By abstracting the safety pin from its conventional form, Barwe invites viewers to reconsider its essence, offering an open-ended visual experience that challenges preconceived notions and encourages alternative perspectives. Art connoisseur Shireen Gandhy, a friend of the late artist, takes us behind the making of this extraordinary painting.

S. H. Raza had begun to paint using oils, moving away from his impressionistic watercolours, on his way to winning the prestigious critics’ award in 1956. Just a year before, he completed a stunning painting of Parisian rooftops, revealing not a daylight scene but one of the night, only yellow lamplight from the streets dimly silhouetting the chimneys and sloping roofs. This period of Raza’s career is somewhat lesser known than his later, tantra-inspired works, as Ashok Vajpeyi and Aman Nath explain to us.

Alita Chandra, daughter of the artist Avinash Chandra reflects on the transcultural influences on his painting and his preoccupation with female subjects.

What does it take to liberate a woman’s figure from patriarchal gaze? Courage and conviction, perhaps, as artist Vasundhara Tewari Broota shares in this short interview. Speaking from the experience of painting with courage, the artist also provides a peek into her thought process.

The Devi or the female power in Hindu mythology appears in various avatars in our everyday lives—as idols during the puja, on covers of magazines, product labels, calendars and posters. The modern history of visualising the Devi goes back to naturalistic depictions in oil paintings by the Early Bengal artists, which were surpassed in popularity and fame by Raja Ravi Varma and his studio. His representation, however, was regarded as too human-like by artists of the Bengal School in the early twentieth century, who created idealised forms based on a synthesis of classical visual traditions. In the twentieth century, we find artists responding to distinctive traits of the goddess to portray specific aspects of her power, or to convey the artist's own relationship with divinity. Few artists who have turned to Hindu myths have been able to escape the temptation to interpret the female power in their own way, and the diversity in style, medium, and mood is a testament to that.

The advent of abstraction is a defining moment in art history as we devise divisions between representational, figurative, and abstract art, with the need arising from this pivotal formal shift in the modern world. The term ‘figurative’ has come to represent an antithesis of sorts to the term abstract. One is representational of reality, the latter a derived (abstracted) representation or even non-representational (colour-field paintings for example).

G. R. Santosh created a hugely accomplished career without formal training in art. His abstract paintings made in the early 1960s had Kashmir as his muse, and often used encaustic and beeswax—a process he learned from Shanti Dave. Architect and designer Pinakin Patel shares his views about In the Snows of Kashmir, Santosh’s masterful painting with textural relief in a monochrome palette.

Curator Jesal Thacker and art writer Meera Menezes speak about Shanti Dave’s art practice and choice of medium that allowed several elements to come together in his encaustic paintings and layered watercolours.

Drawing from the Greek word skhedios, meaning ‘to extemporize’, the sketch presents an interiorized, psychological landscape against classical painting’s heroic, externalized construction of the painted tableau. For many artists, sketching and drawing suggest initial explorations for capturing moods, relations and subjectivities that can be expanded through later applications of paint and texture.

Ramkinkar Baij is rightfully described as India’s first modernist sculptor for his pathbreaking use of cement and laterite as material, his choice of subjects and scale in public art projects, and his unconventional development of ideas.

The Poet is an abstract portrait of Rabindranath Tagore, imagined through negative spaces, concaves and convexes forming the eyes in a hollowed head, a masterclass in Baij’s cubist vocabulary. The portrait shared almost no physical attributes with the subject, instead focusing on distorting Tagore’s visage to give us insights into the state of his mind.