Sculptor G Ravinder Reddy's iconic, monumental female heads, characterized by their powerful presence, bold aesthetics, and captivating gaze, serve as more than mere art objects; they assert space and reclaim it in a society with challenging gender metrics.

Sculptor G Ravinder Reddy's iconic, monumental female heads, characterized by their powerful presence, bold aesthetics, and captivating gaze, serve as more than mere art objects; they assert space and reclaim it in a society with challenging gender metrics.

Sculptor G Ravinder Reddy's iconic, monumental female heads, characterized by their powerful presence, bold aesthetics, and captivating gaze, serve as more than mere art objects; they assert space and reclaim it in a society with challenging gender metrics.

In a country like India, with its abysmal gender metrics, the iconic female heads of sculptor G Ravinder Reddy are more than aesthetic objects. Monumental in scale, they occupy space with an authority that seems to reclaim the space women are so often denied otherwise.

They are fuller, wear dark lip shades and kohl, and have their hair tied neatly in a bun adorned with flowers. They look like women we have all seen. Yet their piercing gaze seems to demand attention. Who are these women? 

In a conversation with The WEEK, the Visakhapatnam-based artist answers that question while discussing the elements of his craft, his artistic journey and the making of his iconic female heads.

Edited excerpts:

Q/ Your solo exhibition is opening at Gallery Sumukha in Bengaluru. Which of your artworks will be on display?

A/ I’ll be exhibiting around eight to nine works. Of these, four are new ones. They’ll give an idea of the various mediums and styles I have worked with. One is a full-figure figurative work, another a head and one is an early terracotta work. So it gives a range of my practice. 

Q/ How did you get started as an artist, and how did you arrive at your signature female heads?

A/ I studied at MS University, Baroda and later in London.

During that time, my major education came from visiting museums and travelling across Europe, going to cathedrals and churches. That opened up my vision. 

When I visited museums such as the Berlin Museum, the Louvre and those in London, I came across various cultures. Egyptian art, especially, was captivating. 

There was one particular exhibition of Benin Bronzes. They were essentially heads of people, wearing ornaments. 

At the same time, when I looked back at contemporary art practice in India, I felt that we were quite alienated from our culture. We were imitating European contemporary art. Abstract sculptures, for instance, were placed in front of viewers, but they were not responding to them.

That’s how I started working on subjects based on my surroundings and context. That’s how the heads started emerging. And over time, they took a stronger, firmer form.

Q/ You say you saw a disconnect with culture. India has a rich history of sculpture, from the Indus Valley to the Gandhara and Mathura schools of art. Where do you think that disconnect stems from?

A/ It happened when the Mughals invaded India. They were more into making palaces and beautiful gardens, and less into sculptures as they were not idol worshippers. Of course, they patronised beautiful miniature paintings.

Then the British conquered India, and the same thing happened. That’s how the disconnect happened.

Sculptures, meanwhile, flourished in tribal and folk art in villages. 

Yes, artists like Raja Ravi Varma, with Western influence, developed new practices. But sculptures didn’t catch up in the same way. 

Q/ You have been creating female heads for decades. Why does this subject continue to hold your interest?

A/ The human figure is always fascinating. Naturally, I am also engaged in that. I always find interesting aspects, undiscovered faces and emotions. 

Q/ Different people interpret these women differently. But who are these women?

A/ I never personalise any sculptures. They’re universal.

Then, depending on the demographic, educational and cultural backgrounds, people interpret them.

For example, once when I applied gold leaf on a sculpture, my intention was to make the surface radiate so that the volume could be perceived properly. One gentleman said, “The yellow, the gold, is good. Indians like turmeric. Turmeric has so much importance.” He saw the gold leaf, the yellow colour, as turmeric and interpreted it in a religious context because women apply turmeric to their faces.

Similarly, I made one sculpture in dark blue. I was thinking about Radha and Krishna. But somebody from South India said, “It’s very nice how you have used blue and made a Dravidian sculpture,” because Dravidians are dark-skinned and I used dark blue. 

So the same blue was interpreted by one person in a religious context and by another in a Dravidian context. 

Q/ The colours gold, red, yellow and blue recur in your work, as do jewellery, gajra and kohl. What do these details represent?

A/ I have kept my palette very primary. Within these colours, there is so much energy and so much scope to work. They attract attention, and play brilliantly in sunlight.

And I use jewellery to stimulate the surface. When we are looking at things, there should also be a resting place, a pause, and an opportunity to explore a little beyond. The jewellery, the gajras and all these things make them sensual and attractive, while also breaking the monotony of the form. They also make you go closer to the sculpture. 

Q/ Your female heads are also known for their captivating gaze. How does an artist arrive at creating something like that?

A/ When the sculpture looks at you, if the gaze is penetrating, you will not move away from it. You start engaging with it. 

Q/ You work with fiberglass. Why did you choose this material?

A/ I am a modeller. It means I work in clay, through modelling. Because clay is a fragile material, people do bronze casting, which I could not afford at that time.

That's how I found this material and started working with it. At the time, it had just started being used in India, and even in Europe it was hardly used because it had not yet gotten an art-grade status. Aesthetically, it was not acceptable. 

Gradually, more such artworks started being exhibited and the medium started getting more acceptance.

Another reason why I chose this medium was that people would look at the material and not the artwork itself. I was opposing that. I said this plastic material has no aesthetic quality, so I should create the aesthetics through my sculpture and make people look at it.

Q/ How has the art market shifted over the years? Is it easier for artists now to make a living through their practice?

A/ When I started my career, you could count on fingers the number of artists who were able to survive by selling their work. And in sculpture, you could hardly find anyone. So they would do other jobs, such as teaching or commissioned works, such as portraits of leaders. Under those circumstances, people practised out of determination and love for the medium. 

Things started changing only around 2001-2002, when the market started opening up. Even then, the painters were doing well. Sculptors were still lagging.

But now, there are a lot more people acquiring sculpture, and corporate strategy has also changed. Big complexes are being built and they require a lot of artwork. So now it has become much easier than what it was 30 years ago.

You are turning your studio in Visakhapatnam into a residency. How do you imagine that space to develop?

After I graduated, I had to look for a teaching job to survive and practise. 

When you are doing both things, you are diverting 50 per cent of your energy. So your output is also 50 per cent. Even though you have a lot of things in your mind, you are not able to execute them, and you get frustrated. 

So I thought that now I am in a position where I can provide a residency to young people.

At least they will get a place and accommodation to practise, produce a body of work, explore the market and establish themselves.