The Delhi Art Fair in end January, when the skies outside are grey, welcomes the vivid colours inside the pavilions. With 64 galleries and four major art institutions participating, like the Bhau Daji Lal Museum, the Kiran Nadar Museum and individual art projects, there was excitement. Yet, the footfall was disappointing. Fewer people came as compared to last year, although we were told there was a more ‘discerning’ viewership. This was not surprising as the entrance had risen from Rs100 to Rs500. Was this art fair then designed for the public?
Chaos in the Palace by Waswo x Waswo and Vijay
The large galleries such as the Delhi Art Gallery (DAG) had a pavilion of their own, dividing paintings into mythology, narrative, portraits, initiating walk-rounds to introduce each genre. In their additional booth was hung a superb and unique work, the Pieta by Jamini Roy, as well as his Santhal Woman. Savage strokes in vibrant colors in his early landscapes prove mastery long before he adapted to the patua style. The Kalighat paintings that were his inspiration were hung adjacent, surprisingly fresh and new.
The Bandwallas uniform show Krishen Khanna’s concern for the ordinary man. Raza’s early black Bindu of 1984 is mesmerising, created at a time when he was formulating his new vocabulary; so also his Jala Bindu that had disappeared from the art world for over a decade. From Dhoomimal we pause at the poignant women by Anjoli Ela Menon, her Madonna and Child. All this is commendable, but predictable. Where were the new ventures? Our vision depended on the galleries’ choice.
Art Heritage stood boldly apart from galleries by presenting artists from Kuwait, Iran, Cambodia as well as India, mainly photographs that are raw and radical. The recording by Azadeh Akhlaghi of a murder in Iran 1940, forlorn girls from Cambodia and a shattered Sony TV, (a shattered world) made their impact—when the familiar became unfamiliar. Akar Prakar assembled a strong body of sculptures which include fine works by Nagji Patel, Rajender Tiku and attenuated bronzes of Radhakrishnan’s Musui and Maia, doing cartwheels and whirling into free space. It remains a mystery why he has moved to his new editions of large faceless heads of the Buddha, an antidote to his wonderfully animated figures.
The Bandwallahs by Krishen Khanna
Gallery Espace’s choice of works deserves special mention, each a minute world of wonder hung close with space to breathe between the artists. Chaos in the Palace by Waswo X Waswo—collaborating with miniature painter Vijay who paints 18 small works—pokes fun at followings of Western art, the creation of forgeries (and imitations) of Pollock, Andy Warhol (his Marilyn Monroe) and Magritte’s apple rendered here as a huge juicy mango filling the whole palace courtyard. Zarina Hashmi’s works of gold on black are a superb progression in time—phases of the moon for instance. Tanmoy Samanta renders an original and comic viewpoint of the ordinary, in his Hunter, Portrait of a Girl, etc.
My weakness for miniatures perhaps, but the Company Paintings in a private collection called Swaraj took my breath away, showing perfection of details, painted on paper and even on mica. What was most moving of all was the small booth of works from Nepal, with the first representation here by the Nepal Arts Council. In the aftermath of last year’s earthquake, these works bring our attention to the havoc caused to this country of great architecture. They start with Birendra Prasad’s large drawings of Durbar Square in the city of Patan and conclude with Asha Dangol’s terrifying of a figure hurtling over wrecks of buildings and the title Where is my Village?
Finally, on day 3, I was stunned by a collection of archival photographs collected from India Today’s issues by Rohit Chawla. Each had his/her unmistakable persona which comes through. The accessible Manjit Bawa with his white sufi-like garb is swathed in a shawl. The intellectual arrogance of Akbar Padamsee who looks down at you. And M.F. Husain under a table, is looking up at the spectator! (He does not forget his long brush in hand which appears in all his Self Portraits). A spry Jehangir Sabavala gestures in his dapper black suit, Bhupen Khakhar grins from ear to ear with eyes that miss nothing, Nalini Malani tosses back her hair in defiance, Krishen Khanna with his Bandwallas brought alive in cutouts, and Anjolie Menon poses in the clothes of Freda Kahlo. The most senior of artists Bhabesh Sanyal appears profiled, his shadow on the wall. Having known them all, this was feast for the eyes—a true homage to artists.
