A Legacy on Canvas - A Painter's Progress

A Legacy on Canvas - A Painter’s Progress By BS M urthy When w e (Bannu, nee, Rohini, and I) became schoolm at es, w e w ere barely t en and now as w e are sevent y plus, he seeks t o record his quest ful journey as a paint er t o which, by and large, I w as privy t o. It seem s as if life, at t he dict at es of dest iny, had shaped his creat ive inst inct s in the m ould of applied art, though without robbing him of t he art istic impulses of his genes. Now , urged by his artist ic impulses t o pass t hrough the pat hless w oods as he set s on a new art ist ic plane, here I seek t o set his biographic course in an auto-biographic mode. “ It w as within the four w alls of our home t hat I had the first brush w it h the anim al w orld; lest it ’s mist aken t hat I grew up in a zookeeper’s house, I hast en to add t hat my fat her w as a doctor in the arm y during t he World War II. While t he percept ible cracks in t he mud w alls of our dw elling w ere t he subject of m y mot her’s nagging, to m y seeking eyes, t hey seem ed t o be line-draw ings on a canvas of lim e. It w as as if t he beast s and birds alike left t he confines of children’s books t o ascend t o t hose w alls t o become ‘free birds’. It becam e m y past im e t o im part ever newer im ageries t o t he very cracks t hat my fat her left t o fend for them selves for t he sust enance of his umpt een offspring, a norm t hen, t ook precedence over t he m aint enance of his ancest ral house. That w as in 1952 at Am alapuram, t he hub of Konaseema, and I w as barely five-year old t hen. No sooner I could lay m y hands on a paper and pencil t han I st art ed dabbling in draw ing but it was only in the early high school days t hat sket ching becam e a compulsive need, so to say, for my very exist ence. As w e had eight not ebooks, one for each subject , w hich, for the best part , those used t o com e in handy for my assort ed drawings. But it was m y drawing of Lord Ganesha t hat caught the eye of one and all, and as most of m y classmat es w ere keen t o have it redrawn by me on t he first page of their not ebooks, I becam e a sort of a junior com missioned art ist . Given m y penchant for draw ing t hat ’s not conducive for clearing examinat ion hurdles, I w as w ont to adapt the ‘import ant quest ions’ t actic to circum vent m y w ay t o the upper echelons of our zilla parishad high school. Save t he t edious exam t ime, m uch of m y schooling w as fun and frolic for I used t o draw caricatures of m y t eachers, of course, behind their backs t hat evo ked glees of m y classmat es, t hough in undert ones. M aybe, it w as all in our genes (as w ould be seen lat er) for my elder brot her Suri was also blessed w ith a good ‘draw ing’ hand but in his inexplicable bid to outshine our father, he chose t o lend it to st et hoscope, which I suppose he did in the lat er years. Having heard about the st ress on ‘free spirit ’ in Gurudev’s Shant iniket an, I urged m y fat her t o let m e have a free rein in it s art s course but having put his eldest boy on the allopat hic path, our fat her w as hell-bent on heralding m e, an younger one, on the ayurvedic course. It w as t hus, in 1963, I found m yself at t he grind of botany and zoology in my pre-universit y course, though given the drawing-leaning syllabi, that w as some consolation for m e. M undane Tw ist In time, I received t he m arching orders from our ‘dict at orial doctor’ t o proceed t o an Ayurvedic M edical College in Warangal. W it h my art s dream having becom e a daydream by t hen, and with no plausible explanation to desist t he draft , I t oed his line, albeit seeing a silver lining in Warangal’s hist orical horizons. The freedom t hat being aw ay from hom e affords one, I reckoned w ould let m e be m y ow n m an, nay boy, and besides, Warangal with it s rich herit age of sculptures, may soot he m y ruffled art ist ic soul as w ell. And I w as proved right on both t he count s, during the course of the very first year t hat is. While t he sense of freedom enabled m e t o shed the overburden of my fat her’s overbearing presence, t he ecst asy of draw ing m any an exquisit e sculptures in the Warangal Fort , so t o say, afforded me a sense of fulfillm ent. As if to provide direct ion to my t alent, during that sum mer recess, art t ook m e t o Peri Subba Rao garu , t he drawing t eacher in Am alapuram’s m unicipal school, who readily t ook m e under his wings. He used t o explain about various m edium s, arrange st ill-life subject s t o pract ice besides encouraging m e t o pract ice other subject s like landscape, memory draw ing. By making me privy t o the nuances of drawing and let t ing me pract ice under his guiding eyes, it w as he, w ho had laid t he st epping st ones for my nascent feet t o find their m oorings. Well into t he second year, w hile I was get t ing adept at admixing ayurveda and art for m y life’s recipe, t he lat t er had apparently chosen t o upend t he form er; how else can one explain t hat chance acquaint ance in 1965 with M adhava Rao, one of it s unsung but ardent prot agonist s. He had been a bright st udent of t he School of Art s, Vizianagaram , founded by Paidiraju garu, a legendary art ist of t hat t im e, but as life would have it , inst ead of adorning an easel in his st udio, he came t o dabble at a clerk’s desk in an elect ricit y office at Warangal. When he began int roducing me t o the int ricacies in outdoor sketching, wat er colour painting, folk st yle paint ing et c., it was as if he had opened up t he vist as of art forms for m e t o vent ure into. What ’s m ore, t he possibilit ies in the art schools in the t hen M adras and Bombay that he pict ured m ade our college cam pus seem t o be a cant onment in com parison. As the m ent al churning began, then cam e t he turning point: Aft er t he annual exams in 1966, inst ead of heading hom e, I accom panied M adhava Rao to Ram appa Temple, to be a part of a three–day long art camp t o capt ure it s exquisit e t em ple sculpt ures in sket ches and draw ings, and it w as t hat capt ivat ing experience which cat apult ed m e ont o a new course of life. Artistic Turn On our w ay back t o Warangal, sit ting by t he w indow side in that bus, w it h summ er w ind blowing at m y face, I could perceive t he w int er set t ing in m y life. It became obvious t o m e t hat ayurveda held no form ulation for t he fruition of my passion though I happened to t op t he class; w hat a t ransform at ion from being a backbencher t ill m y pre-universit y course! So, w hen I want ed t o opt out, I encount ered an unexpect ed hurdle in t he form of the principal, w ho w ould not let me go. But yet , I prevailed over him to burn m y bridges t o Warangal, as a fait accom pli, and m ake bold w ith my fat her, t o vent out m y int ent to reset m y life on my predest ined course. Well, he w as as overbearing as ever but as m uch wat er had flow ed under t he bridge of m y self-confidence, I held m y ground regardless. So did he and the st alemat e did continue t hat is in spit e of my m ot her’s best effort s t o break t he ice. And to but t ress m y posit ion, I w as get t ing m y am at eur paint ings and sket ches published in Andhra Prabha, a popular Telugu Weekly of that era, of course for rem unerat ion, though m eager, M aybe, im pressed w it h my art ist ic pot ent ial for m ake a living, or m ore probably owing t o t he innat e parent al m alleabilit y, w hen my fat her event ually relent ed, I ent ered t he port als of the College of Fine Art s, M adras, of course, at M adahva Rao’s behest . M adra s Sojourn I happened t o become chum s with tw o of m y seniors, A. Srinivasulu, whose fat her A.K. Sekhar w as an art direct or in t he film indust ry and Thot a Tarani, the son of Venkat esw ara Rao, also in the sam e calling. Oft en, part aking food in a rest aurant near our cam pus, while t he servers w ere at sat iat ing our palat es, t he duo enabled m e t o clear t he cobw ebs from m y amat eur easel. Till then, I w as w ont to practice by im it ation, of t he renowned Bapu’s illust rat ions, the fallacy of which I could only grasp t hrough t heir counseling, and that helped m e in finding m y ow n moorings from then on. But things weren’t quit e shaping up in the applied art front at the college; while it was my covenant with m y fat her t hat I would earn m y livelihood t hrough applied art , the primacy accorded to painting, even in t he com mercial art classes, unerringly port ended it s unint ended breach. M oreover, t he cultural sm ell in the air and the language slant on the ground m ade m e feel ill at ease in t he ot herw ise marvelous M adras. So, I decided to shift m y ‘art s’ base t o Hyderabad, t he peerless cit y of pearls. Hyderabad Anchorage Having joined t he College of Fine Art s and opting t o be a day scholar, I pursued pakasast ra as w ell w ith pravinaya and that afforded visceral satisfact ion to me and the st ream of classm at es, who used t o grace m y quart ers. Besides being co-ed, our class w as t ruly cosm opolit an; there w ere around tw ent y-five st udent s, nearly half of t hem girls – Anitha Lahiri, a Bengali, Sarojini Abhyankar, a M aharasht rian, Shehnaz Arnii, a Sindhi, Zainab Hussain, Zam Zam Yousuf, Bilquis, Anuradha, all locals. Among boys were Hassan, Shabbir, Behram, M ist ry a Parsi, Devdas, to nam e a few . We had such a facult y, which any fine art s college w ould aspire t o possess. W hile Vidyabhushan, Sayeed Bin M oham med, Vasudev Kapat ral, Kondapalli Seshagiri Rao and Gow rishankar, inimit able t eachers all, excelled in painting subject s, the redoubt able N.P. Vitt al, M adhusudana Rao and Godsey Sir mast ered t he applied (com m ercial) art s. No w onder t hat with such facult y at w ork, our alm a m at er could boast of B. Narsing Rao and Thot a Vaikunt am, who becam e w orld renowned in lat er years. However, w hen I w as in second year, as art w ould have it , as t hough to enable M adhava Rao t o resum e his role as a friend, philosopher and guide, he w as t ransferred t o Hyderabad. Thus, at long last , being at peace wit h m yself, I applied myself t o my t ask, body and soul that enabled m e t o m ake a mark at t he t op of t he class. While going t hrough the t w o year int egrat ed grind of painting, sculpt ure and applied art , yet , as m y passion for paint ing did not yield t he w hole space t o comm ercial art , I cont inued t o flirt with m y love for paint ing, unabashedly t hat w as. But in the t hird year, keeping my w ord given t o m y father, I opt ed for t he fut ure course of the applied art Nevert heless, at M adhava Rao’s behest , during the follow ing sum m er, I at t ended a st udy cam p at Vizianagaram conduct ed by none other t han Paidiraju garu , the guru of gurus. While t he salient feature of his t ut elage w as his love and affect ion for his st udent s, the hallmark of his t eaching w as t o ensure t hat they had t ruly grasped t he im port of what they w ere t aught . What an enriching experience it w as indulging in draw ing and port rait paint ing from life, t he lat t er being a program in it self, what with the underlying int ricacies in mixing of colours (oils), including skin tone. How blessed I w as t o have a guru like Paidiraju garu and that st int with him m ade me realize that self-t aught painting has it s own limit ations. In t he following st udy tour t o Nort h India, the insight s I had gained in the cam p stood m e in good st ead., Even ot herw ise, I have had sket ched in excess of a couple of hundreds t hat is besides a handful of w at er colours, usually landscapes, in the t wo earlier st udy tours. When it came to applied art, guided by N.P. Vitt al – a J.J. Inst itut e alumnus - I complet ed the course w ith flying colours, passing it with dist inct ion. Toil of Art Having w orked in an advert ising agency in Bom bay for a couple of months t o gain experience, in 1975, I had set up the Graphic Design Com plex, m y st udio, in Hyderabad to operat e as a freelancer. And in 1985, t hanks t o t he grow ing goodw ill and an expanding client base, both in t he public and privat e sect or, I m ade bold to incorporat e GDC Creat ive Advert ising Pvt. Lt d., which w as like reaching t he goal I set for myself for m y fat her’s sake. Then in 2008, aft er over t w o decades of t axing, yet rewarding, service t o my client ele and t o t he applied art at large, I sold m y st ake in the agency t hat stood m e in good st ead financially and otherw ise even. Rocky Affair Though my art ist ic impulses w ere seeded in the lush green fields of Konaseem a, yet t hey found fruition in the rock format ions of t he Deccan plat eau. Ever since, Hyderabad had becom e my second hom e, I always had an eye on t he int riguing rocks in int ricat e form at ions t hat abound around it s environs. What with the comm ercial art burden off my back, I was im pelled t o st art a rocky affair. So I dust ed the t ext ural wat ercolour t echnique for rock painting that w as lying in my ment al at t ic for long – in 2000, Kondapalli Seshagiri Rao garu , our revered t eacher, who invent ed it had dem onst rat ed t o m e. I am ever t hankful to him for im parting t hat unique t echnique t hat he had been keeping close t o his chest t ill then However, by im provising that technique, I w orked w it h gust o to bring alive som e of t he fascinating rock form at ions, in the form of umpteen draw ings and w at er colours. And the out com e w as “ Rock M agic” , m y first one-m an show of more t han 90 w orks, draw ings and paintings com bined, w hich w as held in Jan 2009 in Hyderabad. While it really rocked, as expect ed, it w as Seshagiri Rao garu ’s effusive praise t hat I had perfect ed his protot ype t hat , so to say, m ade m y life, at least for then. But then, affairs are affairs and one invariably ret urns to his or her spouse, w hich t o me is pure art . First Love What is said about first love - it can neit her be fully rem em bered nor complet ely forgot t en has becom e a t ruism w ith regard t o my love of art – painting. As t he nost algia of my first love began t o overw helm me, I w as seized w ith an irresist ible urge t o pursue her, w here it all began – in Konaseem a. So, I am in Sakurru, court ing m y first love in sankrant i the dw elling I built as a tem ple for it , all the w hile t hinking, like a young lover w ould, about t he w ays and m eans of winning over t he beloved. Hope it ’s in my dest iny t o w oo m y love t o call m y bidding – painting her t o post erit y. Better half and more I ow e t o Bhagyalakshmi, m y bet t er half, for lovingly putt ing up with my applied art indulgences and painting dalliances t hat is besides making m y life fruit ful by giving birth t o our daught er Annapurna, and son Bhim asankaram, whom w e respect ively nam ed aft er m y m other and fat her. Even as m y daught er (Pandu) became Him adeep’s housew ife, and gave birth t o Brihat, Shanti cam e int o m y son’s (Pat el’s) life as w orking w ife. Now , seeing t he t hree-year old Brihat, linking up shapes like I did when I w as five, I am able t o visualize fine art horizons beyond our generations for not only Pandu but also M rudula, m y brot her Suri’s granddaught er, an architect in t he making, seemingly bear t hose art ist ic gen es along w ith m y niece M eena, w hose t hirt een year-old daught er Sravisht a and elevenyear old son Rinesh have been reinforcing those by w inning budding artist s’ aw ards.” Rohini humbly believes t hat he has m iles t o go on t he pat h of painting t o reach t he ‘m ilest one of art ’ and hopes it ’s in his dest iny t o paint his first love – paint ing - t o post erit y. Well, he only know s how long would be his journey t o reach t he ‘art ist ic m ilest one’, but I, for one, believe t hat he has the w herew it hal to m ake it t o the art ist ic post . Going by Leo Tolst oy’s assert ion in ‘What is Art ’ that “ any t rue w ork of art expresses original thought s and feelings” , even Rohini’s applied art, exemplified by lat eral t hinking, as he w ould put it , could be qualified as art . The innum erable ad cam paigns he conceived, t he except ional logos, including t hat of GDC he developed and t he book jacket s he designed for m y books, bear t est imony to the fact that the art istic spark ret ained it s st reak in his applied endevours. I hope, for the sake of art , he w ould reach his goal to paint for posterit y.